PLATTE-LAND 018: ANNIVERSARY

Related imageTime had rolled off in such a fast pace. The journalism club members were busy preparing for the maiden anniversary of the school mag since the celebrated launch. Everyone was upbeat and excited by the niche the mag had curved for itself. Blue chip corporate firms were jostling for the elusive space in the premier millennials’ magazine. From the giants in the telecommunication industry to multinational brands; the likes of Safaricom and Samsung, it was bliss and glow to the team behind the mag. Tidy monies were rocking their accounts so consistently stealing an eye from the campus V.C who as a result gladly accepted to honour the invitation of being the Chief Guest during the celebrations earmarked to take place, on the subsequent weekend.

Sly had worked on her presentation the entire week. Being the chair-lady of the Journalism club and the ingenious brains behind the mag, it was only well deserving for her to have a slot to talk about the journey the magazine had covered. She had like 6 drafts with Abigail her co-chair helping in editing her final draft.

The magazine had a special pullout to acknowledge the season it came to birth. A pictorial album was being crafted as well as a detailed editorial script summarizing its maiden year it had been in circulation. Many ads had also been lined up as part of the marketing gimmick to tap the million dollar youthful section of the economy.

***

Ladies and gentlemen, to start with, I wish to extend my gratitude to each and everyone of you present in this room, for resolving to come and witness this momentous day of our institution. As you all know, 12 months ago Must Zone magazine came to the fore. You can all bear me witness, it has been a roller-coaster and marathon race to the journalism club and all the stakeholders for having made my dream come true. The magazine has leapfrogged and gained confidence over time but more importantly won the hearts of legions of comrades.

Comrades yeeeh

Comrades aaaah

We’ve sharpened our skills in producing competitive work and in return attracted many partners who in tandem have moulded long-term partnerships. Well, it started as an idea in my mind and were it not for each one of you who believed in it and the school management who walked the talk of sponsoring it, certainly, we wouldn’t be in this room, today.

Of importance to all of us is to appreciate MUST Zone has become a household name and such a coveted brand besides emerging as a product of benchmarking by other institutions of higher learning in and around East Africa. Mt.Thondio University, Ndunduri University, Gathigiriri Teachers College, Wiitemere School of Applied Sciences, just to name a few have not only shown interest in emulating this noble idea but have manifested high appreciation for the level of investment and the kind branding our school has achieved through MUST Zone.

We have also tapped on the amazing talent our school has got and exposed it to a bigger audience for nurturing. For instance, we have student-writers publishing articles in our columns in a very regular sequence. Dr. Kiogothe to be more specific, has been running a fiction series that I’m told is on the verge of closing in a deal with one of the top daily newspaper – Syokimau Weekend. Isn’t that unprecedented?

Last and not least, I’d like to exude my indebted regards to our Dean of Students Mr. Mwangi for believing in our idea even when it had little to prove. He went ahead to pitch it to the school management who in return dared to give us a chance. On behalf of the journalism club, we can’t thank you enough Mr. Mwangi.

Mr. Mwangi stood up and briefly waved to the crowd, though shyly.

It’s now my humble opportunity to invite our V.C to give his speech.

***

The V.C having been impressed by the noble idea of MUST Zone school magazine made a surprise declaration that all current members of the Journalism Club who were actively involved in publishing the mag would earn a competitive salary starting immediately. But more importantly, he promised to steer a team that would ensure most journalism club members in MUST University got absorbed by the leading media houses the likes of; Syokimau Media Group, Igwa Miti Television Network, Kiawara Broadcasters & Kiandutu TV. He also hailed praise to Sly for landing the post of Syokimau Morning show presenter.

Mr. Mwangi, the dean of students would later have a word with his love-struck student, Sly, at the sidelines of the anniversary itinerary.

“Congratulations, you looked very confident on stage.”

“I owe it to you. You believed in my idea.”

“Just the other day, it’s now a year gone.”

“Sure, will you be joining us for the after-party?”

“You didn’t invite me plus still haven’t received your feedback on our trip to North Coast.”

“Is it payback time Mr. Mwangi?”

“Not really, is only that you misunderstood me during our date.”

“Can I make it clear to you that, that was not a date. At least not with my approval. Secondly, it sits awkwardly with me to have you develop feelings to a student who holds you in high regard.”

” It’s just a casual arrangement. Don’t read too much.”

“I’m disturbed Mwalimu by your pestering. Sorry if I sound offensive.”

“Anyway, let’s meet at the After Party.”

“Fine, if you say so.”

“By the way, you’re doing an incredible work at Syokimau Fm.”

Sly’s face melted from a frown to an easy face.

“So, you listen to my show? How do I sound on radio?”

“A voice that one would wish to listen on and on. You were made for the radio!”

“You can say that again.”

“See you later.”

Photo credit: Ted Talks

Previously on Platte-land series Internship

Platte-land continues next Monday…

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PLATTE-LAND 017: INTERNSHIP

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3…2…1 mic on, go…on air! Ladies and gentlemen, this is your main girl Sly Wangari and you’re tuned in to the dopest of contemporary radio stations – Syokimau FM where breathtaking music plays round the clock. I will be your host for a couple of months for the Morning Drive show, ensuring I keep you in tabs with the traffic flow and making your experience of reporting to work, worthwhile.

DJ Fresh Boy how’re you doing this morning?

Can’t complain, looking very lovely yourself.

Oooooh, thank you. You’re also dressed like you are heading somewhere fancy after this show?

Not really. Just representing the streets. You know how we do it!

Great, so what’s on your playlist today?

Some great vibes coming up shortly. Kendrick Lemar, Drake, Dj Khalid, and a bunch of East Africa club bangers and all your favourite urban music. We have some new tracks too. I hear you’ve lined up a heated conversation? Trying to stifle a grin.

For sure, don’t you touch that dial. Speaking of heated conversations, dear listeners we wanna hear from you, what’s your take regarding bisexual people? Would you date them? Are you one of them? Is there a big deal to it? Talk to us. By now you know the digits to call us from!….Dj Fresh Boy give us some music.

Just a quick one Sly

Yes, Fresh Boy

Who are bisexuals?

Ooh, sorry. A simple definition of bisexuals are people sexually attracted to both men and women.

Now you know. Great music plays from the background.

*

Caller1: Hello

Sly: Syokimau FM, good morning! Who is on the line?

Caller1: My name is Benjamin calling from Nairobi.

Sly: Yes Benjamin, what’s your take on bisexuals?

Caller1: I would never date a bisexual. It’s ungodly and unAfrican to start with. How’d the relationship work if my woman is charmed by women the same way a man is aroused?

Sly: So your take is a no! no!

Caller 1: Bisexuals have no place in our society. It’s evil.

Caller 2: Good morning I’m loving your show.

Sly: Thank you so much, what’s your name and where are you calling from?

Caller 2: My name is Sheila from Matiba University.

Sly: Shout out to MUST! What’s your take dear, on our topic of discussion.

Caller 2: I was recruited to be a bisexual in high school. Lesbianism was very rampant in our school and since it was a girls’ boarding school, many students naturally got attracted to each other. It was no big deal spotting two girls sharing a bed. Of course, it was such a gross misconduct when one got nabbed, but it still happened. It’s a culture we found in the school and was entrenched in us right from Form 1.

Sly: Sighs! So, Sheila, you saying even after completing your studies you were unable to grow over the habit? And secondly, does your family or close friends know about this?

Caller 2: I was barely 14 and naive. I got so hooked to it until the habit made peace with my life. In fact, sleeping with another lady is so casual to me. Many of my high school friends still do it to date. It starts with kissing then the rest is history. None of my family members are aware of it, neither does my boyfriend. He works in a distant town which makes it easier for me to bring my girlfriends to the house without him smelling trouble.

Sly: Would you wish to go back to your other life?

Caller 2: Of course I wish I’d unlearn this vice but I don’t know how to. My body is so weak for such a brave decision.

Sly: Don’t you think probably when you get married it will just be a matter of time before your hubby suspects you or finds you pants down?

Caller 2: There is that risk, but what to do? I live a day at a time.

*

Summing up on this topic, Fresh Boy let’s hear your opinion.

Sly, where do I begin? Reading comments on our social media pages and listening to many young callers, paint a worrying trend. You realize our generation is headed to the dogs. Bisexual has been made to sound cool and acceptable. Look at what is happening in clubs and house parties nowadays. I hear we have exclusive gay and lesbian clubs. We’ve casualized everything.

Sly…

I hear you, sounding very deep today hahaha! My view would be simple. School authorities should be hands-on in ensuring detrimental habits aren’t encouraged. Take for a case of Sheila who called in alluding she was recruited while in Form 1. Parents too should do more in getting closer to their adolescence kids and befriending them. It’s only through this that some of these habits can be neutralized. To the adults; nothing can’t be unlearned with resolve and support from family and friends.

***

Sly had earned herself a spot at arguably one of the most sort after radio stations by the millennials, Syokimau FM. She took up the challenge to try her luck for the internship position and a month after, her co-host got pouched by a rival media house. Her new bosses well impressed by her radio vocals put her on the hot seat for a couple of days on an acting capacity which ostensibly ran to some weeks before her position got confirmed.

The experience was overwhelming. Who’d have thought that she’d fill the shoes of such a competitive radio show – The Morning Drive. She was now waking up at 4 am to get to the office by 5 am, research on the topic of discussion, meet with her seniors which included the Program Director, Producer, and the Production set. She’d also peruse the papers in search of the trending news relevant to the youths, as well as learning the ropes of working under pressure in such a dynamic industry.

Her show aired for 4 hours every weekday, thereafter, she’d take a 2-hour break before switching roles at midday to fill in the role of an Assistant Sports Editor. In the afternoon, she’d work for two more hours researching on the next day’s morning show. It was such a tight schedule which came with tremendous experience and a handsome pay. She had discontinued her day tutorials and would attend her classes in the evening.

Image credit: durban.getitonline.co.za

Previously on Platte-land series: Tryst

Platte-land continues next Monday…

PLATTE-LAND 016: TRYST

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They had numerously stumbled on each other, with the Dean of Students always imploring on her of their date especially after the incredible idea of the school mag. Speaking of which, the mag had become so popular that the Vice Chancellor of Matiba University requested for an audience with the brains behind it. Sly was taken by surprise besides being overwhelmed by the level of support her idea had gathered. The journalism club had been a buzz of activities ever since the launch, with many products finding their way in to the mag. The uptake had been indeed, fulfilling. The margins had also been growing steadily leaving the future with no choice but to be kinder.

Sly was meeting Mr.Mwangi at the backdrop of a painful break up with her ex – Chris, after she got wind of him cheating on her. It was heartbreaking and unbelievable. She chose to follow the high and unpopular route of not forgiving him and denying him any second chance to redeem himself. She rather chose to forge on, in the uncharted waters of single hood as life unfolded. It could be a blessing in disguise for her to repair the broken pieces in her life.

Mr. Mwangi would pick her at Adams Arcade and they’d settle on a getaway off Ngong road.

It was in one of those scenic hideouts with a flower-littered road tucked in between a forest that also domesticated legions of playful monkeys and chirping birds. Sly had never been to such a private engagement with any of her lecturer(s) before. But unlike her, many campus ladies had found themselves toying with the idea of befriending and firing up affairs with their lecturers all for good grades and enviable lifestyles. Scores of ladies found themselves wadding in love-flings hatched from infamous locations such as this.

So, why would Sly give Mr. Mwangi that kind of privilege to buy her lunch in a getaway frequented by people in three-piece love affairs? Of people shy of basking at the scrutiny of the public eye? Was she naive not even to inform her folks or Njagi that she was off to a lunch date, just in case? You know sh** happens! Had Mr. Mwangi been all innocent or had he mastered the tricks to woe Sly?

***

“Have you been here before?”

“Ooh no. Looks vintage like!”

“Yea, with a heritage to uphold.”

“Seems like it. It’s peaceful and equally captivating.”

“You didn’t seem to be very keen on the date though.”

“Date!!!”

“Yea our lunch date.”

Sly faked a choke from the garlic and lemon fish curry they were having.

“By the way, the meal is too awesome. I’m impressed by how they’ve garnished the coriander leaves.” Dodging his question.

“My pleasure.”

“So, Mwalimu, what was the essence of the so called date?”

“Aah, could you refer me as just Mwangi.”

“That will definitely sound awkward.” Making a sarcastic laugh.

“Why?”

“I can’t see myself referring you as Mwangi!”

“Well you just did.” He giggled turning away from Sly’s impressive gaze.

“Why would you encourage me to do so. You’re still my lecturer. And a senior one for crying out loud.”

“I’m not denying that. But this is a different arrangement altogether. I have a life out there, you know.”

Sly nodded as she awaited more from Mr. Mwangi’s bubble.

“Who doesn’t like having a good time with friends?” Making a more pronounced smile that warranted Sly to notice a gap that once housed one of his molar teeth.

“So, where is this headed Mwangi? Gosh, sorry. Mr. Mwangi.”

“Very good.” He ordered for some white wine.

Amid the laughters and long talks, Sly opened up to Mr. Mwangi about her bruising break up. She was surprised by how attentive he portrayed himself to be. He was such an incredible listener. He never interjected, nor blinked through the story. He nodded when called upon to, made faces when expected, while his eye contact remain drawn to her. That surprised Sly and in essence drew some positive attributes about him.

He sympathized with her story.

“Was he the first boyfriend you ever hand?”

“Mmmmh….you could say so.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

She crossed one leg to the other, took a deep breathe and adjusted her watch. “Okay, let me put it differently – it was the first serious relationship I have had so far.”

“The rest were?”

“The usual flings that die before they start.”

“Hahahaha. Is the guy who accompanied you to my office the one who hurt your heart?”

“Oh my goodness.” She walked to the ladies laughing loudly.

5 minutes later…

She found him on phone speaking to a female voice whom Sly deciphered, was his wife demanding to know where he was. She spoke with utter disgust and venom.

“That’s my nagging wife.”

“Nagging.”

“She is always venting and complaining of something.”

Sly sighed off. “You should make time for her. Perhaps she thinks you’re denying her attention.”

“But I’m always busy. I have no time to stay indoors and supply attention.”

“You see, that’s where you men go wrong. In the beginning you’re always very romantic and available, wait until the dust settles.”

Mr. Mwangi responded to an itch on his ever bushy beards. “I’ve got to provide for them. I can’t just stay there pampering her. How will I create wealth if I don’t whip my a** and get connected to the right people in this town?”

“But you called me for a date at the expense of your family!”

“I felt obliged to appreciate your brilliance.”

“Are you sure there was nothing more?”

“I have always been carried away by your charm right from the day you joined our institution. I wish we became more closer, perhaps even flying to the coast for a weekend, you know! Is that much to ask from such a dazzling woman like you?”

“But I’m your student and you are very much married. In fact, your wife deserves that trip more than I will ever do.” Sly was beginning to feel offended and intruded.

“Just a weekend.”

“No no no Mwalimu.”

“You could think about it, no pressure.”

“That’s not right. Are we done here, I see mum calling.”

Sly got to the car as Mr. Mwangi took his time clearing the bill and watching the smoke waft in the air from his smoldering cigarette-stick at one end of the parking bay, seemingly angered by his backfired moves.

They drove off with no much talk in the car apart from Sly engulfed in retrospection, with Mr. Mwangi trying to do some damage control to his proposal that didn’t go down well with her.

Did he jump the gun?

Photo credit: ebony.com

Platte-land series continues next Monday…

Previously on Platte-land series: Cupid

PLATTE-LAND 015: CUPID

Image result for Mpho khati curvy bodyHe was the Finance Manager of a top horticultural farm in Naivasha. A medium height kind of man, fairly young until you met his landmark pot belly that seemed to aggravate his age. He described himself as a family man. He was a dad to three kids; 2 sons and one daughter. He had been married for eight years now. You could say he was a social drinker, mostly going out on weekends with his childhood friends and business associates.

He met Shiku on one of those nights. She was with her girls, all being her classmates, from a road trip when they made a sojourn at a popular reveling joint in Naivasha. Two hours down the line, a female waiter brought a magnanimous order to their table. A dozen bottles of Heineken, Smirnoff vodka and the Jameson whiskey stared at them, eagerly waiting for the girls’ acceptance speech. There was no way these city slayers would resist such a generous reward, at least not with this economy. Mr. F.M as Shiku fondly referred him had eyed her from the moment they walked in. He had been mesmerized by her seductive body. She is such an angelic lass, c’mon go and get her number. If she denies you, you’ll at least console yourself by having tried your luck – His mind would tease him.

She seemed to have a commanding personality. Her smile was coherent in the same way it was contagious. Her eyes struck the deepest end of his soul. Her dreadlocks exposed her wild spirits depicting her rebellious nature of not conforming to the norm. She appeared to be an intelligent woman. F.M endeared female intellectualism and women who seemed to be eager-beavers. There is a way female intellectualism smells; like the titillating smell of dust when it rains. He had such a humongous soft spot for lasses with mass and substance too. Shiku packaged herself as one.

Speaking of which, F.M had a wife all men pray to marry. She had brains, followed by beauty. She had a profundity of emotional intelligence and quite an aggressive woman. She quit her job to support his dream of being a business mogul. She detested easy money and comfort zone. She also shun the lazy ideology some ladies hold of being mere gate-keepers of their husbands’ wealth. In sharp contrast, she was an abrasive go-getter. She’d travel the high road of nurturing ideas, fueling them to credible business plans, packaging them until they hatched to promising enterprises and consequently conveying the returns to Mr. F.M.

She was that loyal and hands on. Money didn’t tempt her nor inflict a bruise on their marital union. She’d engage him on where to invest the returns. They were great friends and would keep on forgetting they were marriage partners. Her hands had a thing for nurturing and creating products that didn’t exist. She had a creative mind and a subtle personality at hand, to balance life torrents. Unlike many women who are always after salivating their spouses’ wealth, resulting to hiring hit men to eliminate them for easy wins, she religiously believed in the idea of fostering and making marriage last its full longevity.

He had married his chimera woman. His best friend. His favorite illusion of a superwoman. She was a wife who’d speak of tomorrow’s plans dressed in a loose nightwear while lying in bed lulling the slumber mode and F.M would just nod his balding head in agreement. She’d talk about this deal and that order and of deliveries and collecting cheques where. At times she’d be like; Baba Cleophas, you need to look for that mhindi friend of yours  – Mr. Patel. I’m sure he’d be interested in the supply of Mahogany trees we traced near Uganda – Congo border, now that the ban in Kenya doesn’t seem to be lifted anytime soon. And did you ask Kang’ethe if his restaurant exalted the poultry order we made last month?

But beneath that, was a woman who understood F.M’s intrigues and sophistication depth. She knew when he lied and would smell when he warmed up to sultry women. She’d easily decipher when he played mind games with her, besides peeling off all the layers of deceit being schemed in his testosterone glands. She was a woman, F.M couldn’t underestimate.

However, after a close shave encounter with the sensuous Shiku, temptations were bound and rife. His boys cheered him on and so did his alcohol drink. She seemed to be the cheerleader of her squad and that cajoled him more. He was attracted to women who called the shots. And so, after his order was gladly accepted by these campus ladies, protocol would follow next. He’d walk over, pull a sit uninvited, and introduce himself all out of the blues. Interestingly, they blend easily. Their hearts’ lewd desires flooded their eyes, and so they’d occasionally feel the magnetic-pull, whip up their newly nurtured chemistry. By the end of it all, he was struggling in the deep waters of full-blown manias of lust and infatuation, thanks to Shiku.

He talked about his day job and his passion for his family. The more he shared bits and pieces of how fond he was to his kids and wife, the more attractive Shiku found him to be. He’d throw terminologies and adjectives regarding his job description, and how he flies in and out of the country for business-related workshops and trainings. She would marvel at his flawless grammar and wit. Of course, as it happens, his stupor state plus the excitement of conversing with a fine chiq like Shiku did wonders in motivating his commanding English fluency. His cologne was also unrivaled at such unholy hour – she found that weird.  He’d spew chewed information of; Net margins, Forecasts, Cash-flows, Deferred Tax, Equities, Transfer pricing….. and it would sound Greek to her.

You see, Shiku and Maths units don’t cross paths quite often and were akin to that annoying neighbor who plays loud music you have to contend with until fate coughs otherwise. She abhorred Maths in high school after the subject teacher depicted open bias to weaker students in that unit. Mr. Muriuki otherwise nicknamed as Calculus who also poised as the school’s pastor, blatantly humiliated and overlooked anyone who scored less than 45% in his subject. He took it as a personal affront. As it would turn out, Shiku didn’t do well in that unit but still made it to campus thanks to her passion for Art subjects which led her in enrolling for (B.A) Literature at Mt. Thondio University.

Time was lapsing to drive back to Nairobi at least before the morning rise came out calling. The girls were exhausted for driving a whopping 350km in a day and hiking the Menengai Crater. Shiku dragged F.M off the club to the parking bay. They barged into his car and adjusted their seats. He asked for her number.

The next thing he recalled when he rose from his hangover slumber, the morning after; the day had grown legs but the infatuation to Shiku was still blurring his mind. He smiled when he recalled Shiku planting a kiss on his lips and him cuddling her erotic body. He replayed that yesternight memory script like a million times, smiling to himself as guilt peeped whenever he made those blank stares to the ceiling board.

In no time the doorbell rung, beckoning the arrival of his family from church.

Photo Credit: http://www.afrikglamourmagazine.com

Previously on Platte-Land: Break Up

Read Next: Tryst

 

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