Well, yesterday I was going through my blog archives;

Ive only had that blog for like say about friggin 8 years, daaaamn I must have really had alot to write about on a real.

Anyway, I was reading this blog ‘A Day In My Life-City Under The Sun.’ that I had written way back in 2003 and I was just giggling away hysterically. Seriously, I can be so detailed and way too DRAMATIC sometimes… gadamn!!

 I was missing Kenya (Nairobi) a little too much then and so anyway, here is the blog;

I wrote waaaaaay back in 2003…

 A Day In My Life As I remember It In The City Under The Sun. 

 Nairobi city in Kenya in all its glory...some people call it ‘The City Under The Sun.’ others figure its better to call it ‘The Craziest City In The Continent of Africa.’ Whichever way you look at it is an amazing city... its all the hustle and bustle that keeps Nairobi going and going. 

People fighting for Mats, the noise made when everyone is yelling at the top of their lungs, hawkers selling or rather hawking their merchandise, the sun blazing hot right in the middle of the sky.

Most beautiful of all is, the aroma of an assortment of different ethnic dishes wafting up sensually from different kitchens and restaurants aka hotels starting right from the middle of the day to late afternoon. You name it they got it, from French fries (Chipoz) and grilled porno chicken, to ugali, skunje, nyaks, cassava, mahindi choma (mei), mutura – way to many ethnic dishes to count. To others,the  over-priced tourist intended dishy aroma in expensive restaurants escaping through every crevasse of the kitchens and out into the streets. All the beautiful aroma losing a fighting battle with your poor nares and taste buds.

 The funny thing about my gorgeous city is that you can find anything on heaven and earth right there upon the pavements on the almighty streets…whether its clothes, shoes, panyez, nightwear of all kinds (sexy, creepy and “what the hell is that friggin thing type of nightwear”), a million and one snacks of all kinds.

Accessories including earrings, bangles, sunglasses, grills, belly rings make-up, lipbalm, lipstick, fragrance, perfumes, Gucci and Loius Vutton vibetiz.  To car spare parts like brake parts, bumpers, rims ( 22"s etc etc). Hell they even had CD’s, DVD’s and best of all VCD’s of all the latest movies including the ones that were not even officially released in US movie theatres and all.

I swear I remember watching Charlie’s Angels (2000) way before anyone else talked about it on the universe! Whuuuuuuaaaat?

 Gosh the list is endless from what’s what, whatnots to knick nacks and paddy wacks, you can have it right from the streets.

Oh My God!!! Then I love the way Nairobi is such a freakin small world that you just know everyone even when you do not wanna know them.Youre walking around minding your own business and then someone taps you on the shoulder so violently that you are so ready to unleash one of those Chinese/karate chops, taekwondo and whatever swiping the air with your arms and legs- then guess what?

Its your friend from the Esto or school, salon, market,Alliance Française de Nairobi, gikomba whatever giving you an ear to eargrin... asking for 25Kshs to go and buy fries at Kenchic either that or they will smartly lure you into going to Kenchic as they tell you storoz and before you know it youve bought everyone those fries you eat upon the newspapers and a full Kuku Porno and the bill is all on you... you best believe it!!! Yeah!! Nairobi life that is what its all about. 

 Then the pickpockets all over the place no matter where you are at, you have to walk around tao throwing furtive glances behind you and clutching onto your possesions like youre suffering from obsessive compulsive disorder.

Kwanza them boys fuating you with bagfuls of fecal goodness,threatening to turn you into a “Weapon of Mass Destruction”, unless ofcourse you oblige and give them your bus fare. That’s when you get all business-like and negotiate with the boys telling that you only have 40 bob so you'll give then 20 bob so you can have the other 20 bob for matatu fare, leave alone the fact that the entire 40 bob is your hard earnedcash... Tsk!! Tsk!!

Then finally when you fika the mats going to your hood, everybody is scrambling for the mats like its the bread of life and then some...survival for the fittest, only the once who have had a chance to play rugby or football have a chanceof survival, so if your physique is super puny then youre at the risk of becoming a bagful of broken bones.

 When you finally make it into the mat... then youre not even sure where your body parts are resting at... actually you are quite aware you have your body parts its just that youre sitting on one end and your limbs are sitted on another end.

People have their butts on your face so your nose is turned the other way since you are at risk of a serious case of asphyxiation. Luckily enough for you a makanga has conviniently put on a lacy flamboyant vest (luminous yellow with streaks of orange by the way) and his armpit has not seen a droplet of water since the turn of the millennium and happily shoves the unshaved, unwashed armpit all up in your face ecstatically yelling out "mbao siste!!"

 So like the contortionist you are, you reach for your purse which by the way someone had happily slit the base off the kibeti earlier in tao using a magical super sharp bic razor blade grabbing the ka last tampon you had in there for emergency leaks and all (Ummm... yeah thats right, I said it- meza wembe!!!).

Lakini lucky for you and your intelligent self, the 20bob (left over from the earlier negotiation with the street boys) was safely hidden in your hard under wired brassiere.

 The music blasting away like there is no tomorrow... once in a while you feel a paw grab your booblet with so much eagerness and glee it hardly feels like it was accidental. So, while youre still pondering who the perv could be upto, your ‘STOP!!!’ flashes right past you at lightening speed. So you get into a loud yelling match with the kondi and by the time mat stops for you to alight (with all your limbs intact ofcourse) youre so glad you got off the gadamn mat that walking back the 5 Km the distance they pitishad you is nothing to worry about at this point and its almost heavenly.

Youre just glad you did not pass out or get a heart attack or something equally serious until the following morning when you have to go back to Tao using the same means.

Oh!!! (Sighing Deeply) How I miss the loving Nairobi and the people in it, Id pay anyone to give me a chance to be squashed in the mats, minus the paws on mychest and sweaty sour armpits ofcourse.

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Well atleast thats what I remember happening way back in Nairobi when I was there...I am so sure it has changed a whole lot (way too much I cant even identify with what most people tell me about the same place I was describing up there and that was just in 2003 when I was missing home. Atleast that is what most people tell me when I call back home. I am too heart broken that I cant get into my loud mats no more… why oh why!! Oh well, that’s just an abbreviated description of what I remember as A Day In My Life As I Remember It  In The City Under The Sun. I wouldnt even know how to describe Nairobi today now in 2008 into 2009.

  By Lo Nyambok (Enigmaress)