First of all, I am not a male basher. So before y’all get you knickers in a bunch…CHILL! These are my observations on my fellow Kenyans.
So here’s my grievances with some of y’all.
Anyone who has been in this country longer than 24 hours should already know that taking regular showers, using underarm deodorant, brushing teeth is a way of life.
So tell me why I was at a bbq over the weekend and people who came to this country even before the underground railroad was not yet completed still do not have the science of hygiene down pat.
Why is it that the rancid dude is the one hovering around like a moth to a flame, leaning in to talk this close II to your face?… ugh! The hugs are the worst, especially when the dude smells of such heavy sweat, (you know how it gets hell hot during the summer people) the one you can tell that drinking water is not part of his daily repertoire since your eyes are burning from catching a whiff of his “eau de natural” cologne. The hugs are always extra long and tight. Then his scent rubs off on your clothes… so now you and smelly over there share a bond that only detergent can break.
I will never forget last summer, my friend dragged me out to a Kenyan party. It had a been a hot, humid day. Clearly everyone got the memo to go home and shower before coming out at night except this one dude. He was smelling of day old sweat, bbq smoke, fatigue & desperation… and to top it off…he was fat!! Talk about a quadruple threat! Dude was stanking up the area so bad and he had that “I don’t give a fugg” look about it. My friend and I just shook our heads and moved over to the other side, far away. Y’all know how parties get mad hot before closing time, so you know by the time the night was a wrap, dude was ripe!! and if he got a scallywag for the night… God bless the girl who had to gag on all that.
Okay another thing I can’t stand is the guessing game. Don’t roll up on me asking me to guess who you are. I’m sitting at the bench (same bbq) chatting with my friend and her cute baby when this guy comes up and the conversation goes like this:
Dude: hi (mentions my name)
Me: *thinking to self, da hell is you?* Hi
Dude: so do you know me?
Me: nope *shakes head*
Dude: you don’t know me? I wrote you on face book a while back…
Me: nope *meanwhile my friend had turned the other way cause she can’t believe this bullshit talk dude is giving me is alive and well in 2011*
Me: so who are you?
Dude: don’t worry you’ll soon find out. *walks away*
Okay seriously y’all, what nonsense is that… ill soon find out who is because he is next in line to be president, the pope, god…. WHO?!!
The same goes for text messaging. Don’t text me and ask me to guess who you are… why don’t people have phone etiquette? I have had several of those and let’s just say, after asking back to back “who is this?” and not getting a proper response, I went off on them. Needless to say it’s been a while since they have called or texted. Last time I ran to two of them, they told me “aki you are a mkali.” No I’m not. If you have my phone number, use it don’t abuse it!
Another major gripe is attitude…
Dude who are you PMSing for? Why are you all pissy at me like I owe you dick?
There are some men I’d rather not even have a conversation with (be it phone or even online) because it always ends up going off-track. So I stick to the ones who get my dry jokes and don’t take everything so damn seriously.
I love to laugh… a lot. But when I get some faux-bougie vibe from someone male/female where you are trying to come off like you are better than me or it’s a burden to talk with me… BYE! I quickly put you on the back burner. Imma need some of y’all to kindly dislodge the broom stick shoved way up y’alls behinds.
The other lot, is the bitch ass negroes… and I know plenty of them!! Men (Kenyans) who will not even come up and say hi because they “feel” there are in a different league either because they date white/other ( these guys will talk smack about Kenyan chics while praising whoever they are dating… ) umm yeah self-hate is a disease! Sadly, some of them I see some on my twitter timeline and just shake my head. There’s this one guy who I met a few months ago, we were in the process of being friends but his cocky attitude was just turning me off big time…. That should be a blog entry in itself. So anyway back to the story. One day out of the blue, he hits me a “hey red bone!” text. I was like da hell is this nigglet trying? Dude you’re trying to red bone/yellow bone me as if that wins you extra brownie points? FOH!! Go use that messed up analogy on hoodrats.
Or worse… work some corporate job. Omg! Let me pause here and say… this is the worst lot I have ever met. You’d think the fortune 500 company they work for is located between their ass cheeks. These are the people whose accent, has an accent. Like really… now you going to talk to me in your corporate tweng just because we both happen to be hanging out in some upscale restaurant? Most of the time, those are the ones working lower level positions in the company but booooyyyyyy, lemme tell you when you ask where he works, he can’t even finish putting the ‘tan’ in Manhattan . He rolls it out in such a way that leaves you scratching your head all ‘huh?’ like.
Sometimes I want to tell them, “Well, fuck you and that pseudo-high horse you stay riding…”
Alas, my chariot awaits.
Kelitu 