SCANDALOUS SPONSORS

See life is funny, but sometimes it gets too funny until it ends up serious. Not a joke anymore. A friend of mine crush landed on my whatsapp with a photo of a newspaper column. It must have been the Crazy Monday magazine. The column read that in a particular university, a third year female student found herself in the broth of her own hot soup when five of her sponsors showed up at her house at the same time. You see that is funny. In fact I can give you all an opportunity to predict what happened next. But here is where it gets serious. You’d expect these men to have fought themselves to death over her. You know, “Huyu manzi ni wangu!” Then follows an upper cut blow on one.
“Wako tangu lini!” Repays with a K.O.
Another one comes with a flying kick, “Nyinyi hamjui mimi ni nani!”
No mjango. That didn’t happen. These men knew what they were doing with that girl, definitely on separate occasions – is not worth killing for because there are no strings attached whatsoever. There is no love there. They only make love and the girl makes money. Simple. See? There are no strings there. Though personally I have to offer a toast to that young lady wherever she is rotting in poverty from. She surely did prove to mjangos like us who found it hard to believe that women can actually multitask. Oh! I just said rotting in poverty yeah. I meant it. These five men having discovered that they were playing the same role in the girl’s life decided to call for a brief meeting first. Kuelewana kama wanaume bila beef – a virtue that many times our female counterparts lack. No offence. So perhaps this is how the small baraza went,
Mjango 1: (Sounds like someone who has always wanted to be an MP in his hometown, maybe.) Yes wanaume wenzangu. Hakuna haja tukosane hapa kwa sababu ya msichana wa shule hapa. Hio ni aibu kwa wanaume wazima kama sisi.
Mjango 2: (His family is in tatters because of his reckless and selfish expenditure on campus girls like this one, maybe.) Eh hapo umeongea. Lakini tumecheswo bwana! Ai!
Mjango 3: (With a Luo accent and stinking rich, maybe.) Such things are bound to happen. So there is no need of crying here and there.
Mjango 4: (Sold his one eighth of a plot in Kitengela or Syokimau behind his wife’s back – to cater for this kaschana who played him with four other men, one who even looks richer than all of them put together, maybe. He just can’t believe it. He is quiet all along, drowning in the dawning misery, shock and loss.)
Mjango 5: (He is the youngest of them all. Doesn’t look like he has a kid yet. Infact he is just a toddler in the game. It is shown by the wedding ring that is still on his finger. He is full of rage, maybe.) Aki mimi huyo mtoto nitampiga! Anawezaje kunifanyia hivo? Mimi? Siwezi fanyiwa hivi.
Mjango 3: Young man you better shut that mouth and calm your balls or we will also kick you out of here. You think we are the ones celebrating? In fact you even don’t know what you’re doing here, bado tu umevaa wedding ring!
Mjango 2: Bado ata hujaonja ndoa na tayari ukona mpango wa kando. Hio yako ni laana kijana.
Mjango 4: (Still quiet.)
Mjango 1: Mandugu, tutulie tafadhali. Tumekubali tumechezwa and there is nothing we can do about it. No court can handle this matter. We all knew the risks. Hata hivo siku arubaini zimeisha leo. Twendeni.
(They seem to start leaving.)
Mjango 4: (Finally speaks.) Hapana! Sitoki hapa bila mali yangu mimi! Yani you can afford to just walk away like that? I think I have to take back what is mine. (Leaves and storms into the girl’s house and begins to ramshackle things.)
Mjango 3: I think the man has a point. (Follows him.)
Mjango 5: Si ningefikiria hivo mapema.
In no time the house was pretty much empty. Even the least of things like bikinis for ‘#CoastoManenoz’ as per her last post on Instagram – were not spared. Ni mali ya wenyewe! No amount of apology can change a man’s mind at that time. So you see that is serious. There is nothing worth laughing about there.
The madness does not stop there. Wanaume never seem to learn. Again I am told of some drama that went down last Friday. I’m starting to appreciate Friday because of the stories that come out of it by the way because I love drama. Okay let me be clear, sometimes I love drama. Had I not clarified that maybe I’d start receiving inboxes from drama queens saying they want to audition for a place in my life. They won’t stop maybe until I show them a ring on my finger. But do you know drama queens mjango? A ring don’t scare them. You know drama queens love these mjangos who I hear have also acquired a title called ‘Slay Kings.’ So it is sad to me and a pop champagne- moment to some; to let you know that lately, I have also been given that title. Slay King. I don’t know how and I don’t know from where. May the good Lord forgive me if I have changed in any way to acquire that not so good of a title. Lord I know that is not the same image and likeness you created me with. I know I am fearfully and wonderfully made, not ‘slayking-ly’ made. 
Slaykings here in my school are those with huge squads of dudes and chiqs who slay all day in sleek outfits. Let me put an emphasis on the chiqs in case you don’t know what it means to slay; ni warembo my friend. Mwanoo! Wacha tu. They hang out together all the time while walking around with a Bluetooth connected booming speaker that plays hiphop and trap. By the way the chiqs here seem to fall for that speaker vibe so bad. These dudes are popular. Not knowing them is next to a police case. I won’t say they are players. Not my words please. Not forgetting, kila saa wakona form. So someone tell me whether I have a squad and a booming speaker. I even don’t listen to hiphop and trap. You see? Now I need witness protection for saying all that. 
Ah anyway, maybe I slay, but just abit. Because some say I look hot especially when I have a killer haircut and outfit. Your favorite blogger in town should look good however, don’t you think? Okay if you read my blogs because you heard that the blogger is hot, then God bless you too, I value your readership.
So back to last Friday’s madness in a club, again. A rather aged mjango walked into a club with a girl. He must have picked her up on his way so they’d commence their good times that night. Perhaps with a couple of shots and fake laughters. The ol’man doesn’t seem to notice that he is not even close to winning the girl’s sincere attention. What do men think? That those girls are really in to them? Again, a toast to them ladies who have sponsors. Your pretense game is on top. That is not an easy side hustle. Maybe this girl was a first timer. No, maybe she has had enough of the ol’man’s under-payment. Or she realized that he was not really balling that night. Maybe she also couldn’t bear the fact that his breath was just something else. Maybe her eyes opened and she got to see how ugly he really is. Or worse, maybe she used some juju that showed her that his manhood was not worth her time, leave alone the money. Wanaume I know you’ve hated that part. But if you hate it, then I am sorry for unintentionally reminding you of your nightmare in your underworld. 
So the girl walks away, just like that. She stands up and goes to the other side of the club where her boyfriend is. Yes, her boyfriend. They dance for as long as the DJ knows then the ol’man shows up. He takes the girl by the hand and pulls her out of the club like a sack of heaven knows what in Marikiti. Before he exits, the boyfriend comes to the rescue but the ol’man doesn’t hand her over. For all he knows she is his only hope for something good for the night, if you get what I mean. He is the only one who knows the weight of stress he has to be relieved of. The two bulls collide until they are thrown out of the club to sort out their love and fake love issues elsewhere. It sounds more dramatic when we say sponsor vs boyfriend.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the end to that story. Hehe. Yea I know we’ve gossiped enough today anyway. Just so you know y’all sponsors and aspiring sponsors, shit is bound to happen to you.