(TheMjangoSeries’ First Anniversary)
I can almost not believe that it’s a new year. I wonder what’s so new about it apart from the fact that this blog is now a year old. A round of applause please. Yea, yea, that way. I must say I have really tried and I am actually proud of myself. Not many are the times we get to give credit to ourselves for things we have done well. However I’d like to share the credit to mjangos who have been loyal readers. This blog is as worthless as the existence of tissue if there were no calls in the human system – if it didn’t have readers and supporters. Some of you have already started claiming and demanding for shares in the blog. It’s a good thing and at the same time it’s a bad thing. I mean what do you want to share now? Anyway…
The greatest motivation I have that propels me to come back here and smear something new on this page is not the number of readers but the kind of people I realise do actually read this blog. Mjangos I can never imagine to either have the time to read the shit I write here or be worthy to read the same.
Someone like my mum. The loyalist of fans. I don’t know whether it’s because she loves reading and she has the English teacher still in her ama. But mama, if you’re reading this, I bet it’s because you love the stories and the gifting of your last born. By the way some of you have never known that I am a last born. You have been seeing me with a father figure; a serious Bond, James Bond kind of a face, a thick bush of beard sticking out my chin like an old he goat I hear Kambas call ‘thenge’ and a height that is almost American. I forgive that chic who told me to stop saying I have an American height because I don’t. She thought telling me, “But it’s close to American,” would make me feel better. So if it’s not American but it’s close to American, what does that make it? Canadian? I forbid her from ever having a crush on me. She killed her own vibe, just like that!
Ah! Whatever. So I was telling you about my mum. See I said earlier that there are mjangos whom I find unworthy to read some stuff. Okay my mum is not one of them. But on some posts, yea she fits in alright. I wouldn’t even behave like I posted something new on such a Monday that I know I have posted a story that is not healthy for my conversations with her. But guess what mjango, I think she finds a way to read them all anyway. There is this Monday I posted one of those blogs that if I could be able to lock her IP address from accessing it, then I would. Funny enough that is the week she would ask me to send her that blog. I don’t know who tipped her off.
“Nimesoma ile story yako ya last week. Ilikuwa poa,” She says while seated legs crossed on the sofa with a pair of glasses, a leso covering her feet and her tablet at hand. And I just love it when she speaks a little sheng. Mum shikilia uzito! (I know you’re slapping your face saying, “Oh Lord!”)
“Oh okay. I am glad.” I say. I feel like I am walking on the clouds for a job well done.
“Na hujanitumia ya hii Monday imepita. Ata ni jana tu.” I fall off the clouds immediately. My eyes turn into blood shot ones out of guilt. In my mind I am like, “Why is she asking about that one now?”
Trying not to look guilty, I ask, ”Ni gani hio?”
She says, “Ile ya Karura,” I don’t know whether she knew what was in it. The first paragraph to begin with contained hell knows what.
“Niliiona tu facebook,” She says and I keep quiet, thinking she will lenga and forget about it.
After some time I hear, “Si unitumie sasa?”
All in all, mum though you don’t drink, pewa kanusu tu, just this once. Nitalipa.
Other unexpected readers are some mjangos who are deeply devoted to the Lord in church. So our tongue speaking brothers and sisters can actually afford readership on The MjangoSeries and love it, without drawing any rebuke? Wow! If only I could say, “Peweni kila mtu mzinga nusu nusu nitalipa,” but too bad, they don’t drink. But the offer still stands. Hehe.
My blog is also read beyond the borders. Someone pat my shoulder. On New Year’s Eve I spent some time with my loyalist from the diaspora, the US. His name is Jona. I asked him whether my blogs get any trouble when crossing the boarder at customs. He laughed and said thankfully without a tweng, “Weh usijali! Zihufika msee.”
“So how do you practice your sheng huko majuu? Who do you converse with in our national language?” I ask.
Jona says after laughing. The guy has a very heavy sense of humour by the way. It’s as heavy as he has become physically after ages of being with our other friends from up there. Akina Kevin Hart, Edi Gathegi, Malia and Sasha Obama, Migos, Cookie ule wa Empire and the rest. “Siwezi sahau sheng. I talk to you guys in Kenya everyday while I am there. Ata blog yako ni kama gazeti ya sheng kwangu.”
“So what’s the funniest thing that has ever happened to you on a plane?” I ask.
“There is a day I ordered for apple juice and the hostess brought wine.”
“Daamn! Tell me you drunk it like you own the plane mjango.”
“Waaapi! While my dad is seated next to me?” We laugh amidst lots of “Aaaki ya naaani!” and “Aaakiyaooo!”
“Kwani alikushow, “Jona unataka kulewa ukiwa hapa kando yangu? Hata hauna haya?” I say in amusement.
He laughs while slapping his thighs, “Ai weh hapana. I tasted it and gave it to my dad asking him whether it was really apple juice. Ata hakuonja. Alinusa tu akasema “No that’s not apple juice.”
Anyway, wajango wa diaspora, pewa kanusu nitalipa.
The next item on my list is my Madame. Okay not that I am calling her an item. She is priceless know? Tons and tons of support came from her. Aside from being a loyal reader, she has been a loyal character in many of my posts. I write about her behind her back whenever I find it irresistible to do so. But a time came when she asked or rather demanded for a time out in my stories. She said she had a right to reserve her privacy whenever necessary. Sometimes I get into hot soup when I write something from our private conversations. Talk of kukaliwa na mwanamke. Whenever she gets hard on me, I remind her that I am part of the current most endangered species in the world and that is the boy child. So akinimurder, she gets no other mjango like me. Or my dear will you get another one like me? Just tell me while my audience is listening then they will be the ones who will write the next blog after nimejitia kitanzi. Hehe. Dear boy child, don’t lie to yourself that threatening to take your own life away will make her stay and love you. Hawa watu hawa wamekuwa watu tricky sana. They are blessed with a natural gift called replacement abilities. Kuwa mjanja. I know I am in trouble for saying that. MAWE come and help me now. MAWE is Maendeleo ya Wanaume you dork! I actually didn’t know a chama like that exists until last week. How timely is the Lord in His doings? My Gaad!
So my Madame has also been the biggest of my critics. She would comment on some of my blog posts and I would feel like shutting it all down immediately. With her presence on my readership list, it is tricky to write about other female mjangos. Like when I once wrote about my ex. Niliitwa nihudhurie mkutano wa dharura na kujibu mashtaka. But one of my new year’s resolution is: I shall not be afraid anymore to write about other ladies who make my days feel like Uuh Yea! Yea baby! Don’t stop! Say my name baby!… And the likes. As long I’ve got MAWE aye!
Speaking of New Year’s resolutions. One of my resolutions is to increase the blog’s readership. To see to it that the urban young and young at heart mjangos recognize TheMjangoSeries. I constantly tell people who ask about readership that the number of readers per blog doesn’t matter. I don’t look at that. What matters is the trust and connection the blog builds with people until they become loyal readers who don’t need a notification email or whatsapp link to remind them that Monday is here and TheMjangoSeries should be having a new post anytime now. It is all about gathering loyal readers. Today in the first anniversary, I regard everyone who is a loyal reader. I know most of you. It is my desire that the circle will grow too big to know them all. It surely will mjango.
So to all my loyal readers, peweni kanusu pia nitalipa.
“Eti you have New Year’s resolutions too?” I ask my Madame after I had told her my resolutions.
“Yea, kwani I am not supposed to have?” She says.
“I didn’t say that. Si I have told you mine, now tell me yours. I bet yours are better than mine.”
“What makes you think so?”
“Don’t tell me one of them is losing weight.” I said while laughing. That is a common resolution with wanawake wetu na hata wale sio wetu. Little did I know that it would turn into a case that is not settled up to now. Just so you know, she is physically fit in case you want to start throwing stones. I still wonder why she still wants to lose weight. Ama it’s a girl’s thing? Ah anyway. Madame wa mine, ata wewe pewa kanusu. Ama yako ni special. Pewa tu mzima. Si nitalipa? Kwani?
Hehe, that is all to say ahsanteni sana wajango. Now here goes another year. The Lord has been faithful too. If it had not been for Him, I don’t know. If only I could offer Him a kanusu too. That day He only knows about that He has set for me to depart from the face of the earth, of which I hope is not any time soon, may I be buried with a bottle of kanusu. Hopefully I will make it to heaven when the tarumbeta sounds. Not even hopefully. There is a delivery I need to make when I get there. The problem is I don’t know what brand of Kanusu He would love. Konyagi? KC? Pilsner? White Cap? Or Divai? Of course I don’t expect Him to do brands like these generation of shisha does. The likes of Vodka and Smirnoff. Kwanza let me pause and laugh at those mourning about the shisha ban.
Ah! Who am I kidding? We will do Fanta Passion with Him. Something we both can take.
There is one more kanusu I need to give out. There is a kid who not long ago made a bad joke on my Madame while I was seated with the latter somewhere. Maybe a five or six year old. Though the little mjango is lucky I started loving kids and relating with them well not long ago. Call it practicing to be a dad in many and not so many years to come.
I said, “Ntamwambia kile umesema kumhusu.”
“Woiyee usimwambie.” Mjango she really begged.
I felt pity, “Sawa sitamwambia.”
The kid said, “Ntakusema kwa mama yako ukona girlfriend!” In my mind I was like who tha **** does this kid think I am? A kid like her ama? Hii akili yangu aki! Shindwe!
I laughed, “Hata hujui mama yangu.”
She went silent for a while. “Nitamtafuta tu na nimwambie.”
My mistake came here, “Nani alikuambia ata ni girlfriend yangu?” I denied my very own to a kid.
Silent again, “Basi nani ni girlfriend yako?”
Who teaches kids these things by the way? See the effects of allowing kids to watch soap operas? Parents do you see?
She starts pointing at several potentials she suspected should be my girlfriend. She lands on a light skinned chic and I say, “Eeh! Ndo huyo sasa.”
I know trouble awaits me now on a serious note.
Thinking she was not going to do anything, she says while matching, “Naenda kumwambia umesema unampenda na unampenda na unataka kumkiss.”
Damn! That kid is nasty. I had to beg her in the same way she begged me not to tell on her. Talk of a man who fears for his reputation. The kupenda part is fine. Everyone loves everyone these days. But the kissing part? Who wants to be called a perv? Hey! Spare me kiddo! Hehe.
That kid wherever she is akifika miaka eighteen apewe yake kanusu. Ata ninaenda kulipa sahi. Ata fifteen akitaka!
Anyway she calls me Mjango. That is why she deserves a kanusu too…
(TheMjangoSeries’ First Anniversary)