MY KSHS.5720.15cts SALARY

I am feeling a bit creative, just a bit. Enjoy :-)

It is end month. It is like the mini holiday of every month. I can hear the chatter in the office. The excited chatter. John, the IT guy is inviting everyone to his party tomorrow. Its BYOB he says. I do not know what that means. Of course I am not invited. I like listening to them though; they give me hope for a better life.

I hear someone call my name. I look at my watch; I bought it for 50 shillings last week when the hawkers come out to play. I like the watch; it’s a worthy possession. I promise myself to take care of it although my wife has been throwing hints around about how it would look good on her. I adjust the cap on my head and saunter out of the kitchen. The tea was delicious plus it served as my lunch and maybe supper. No, its end month so I am definitely having supper.

“Dege unaitwa na mdosi,” says the secretary. I nod respectfully and walk towards the boss’ office. Its 5pm. He is talking to someone on his cell phone, must be his friend too telling from the excited talk. I wave at him, removing the cap from my head. He hands me his car keys and gestures to me. I understand I am meant to wash it. I will definitely miss the train. I sigh.

I walk out of the office into the parking lot. I connect the pipe to the tap and drag it towards the car. I remove my shoes and place them on the flower hedges. I can not afford to wet the shoes, it’s the only pair I have. I notice it needs repairing. I just might need new shoes. I wash the car as fast as I can, its very muddy. The rains have made the roads a nightmare and I do not have an umbrella. I had a raincoat but I gave my younger son so that he can get to school warm and dry. I look at the sky; it will definitely rain .

I finish the task and return the car keys to the boss. He is having a cup of coffee at the cafeteria. The sandwich looks delicious. I have never eaten here. I like the smell though. He hands me a 100 bob note. I thank him profusely and rush out. I say hasty good byes to the night duty guard.

I work in Hurlinghurm. The buses plying the route are too expensive at this time, 40 bob to town is too much. The train leaves at 6pm from Railways and its now 5.45pm. I have to pass by the  bank to withdraw my salary. I am happy and sad. I will not catch the train. I live in pipeline so the fare will be ridiculous since its rush hour. Oh well.

I walk down Arwings Kodhek as fast as I can, keeping in mind that the rain is coming. I do not know how to swim so I can not be in town when it starts beating down. I cross the road at D.O.D and walk towards City Mortuary. I walk down Mbagathi way. It starts to drizzle. I see my friends walking up the road on the other side. We shout our hellos and everybody walks their way. They live in Kibera but work in Industrial area.

It’s raining cats and more cats by the time I find shelter at Tmall. I walk in and straight to the ATM. I withdraw Kshs. 5’700. I smile at the thought of the 100 bob I have in my pocket, I have a total of Ksh. 5’800. Not bad. I walk towards the exit, I do not belong here. I bump into my boss, not from where I work but the one I really work for. The owner of the security company. He knows me because he had had to pay the hospital bill for my daughter when she was hit by a car on Uhuru Highway.

He holds his I pad in one hand and greets me then informs me he is late for a meeting. I nod and give him my blessings. The rain has reduced so I rush down. By the time I cross the road at Nyayo Stadium, the rain starts pouring again. I stand under a temporary shelter waiting for it to die down.

I put my hands in my pockets and feel the crisp notes.  I owe the landlord 1200 for my two roomed tin house in pipeline. The rain is gaining momentum, I sigh. I need to get home before my two children sleep. This reminds me that they both need books; the second hand dealer had promised me to give me all for 1000. Darkness is setting in.

I only have 4500, oh wait, 4600 plus the 100 bob from the boss. My wives, God bless her soul, takes care of the meals. She sells mandazis near the main road but I really wanted to buy her something nice, maybe a new leso. The Somali near the roundabout sells them at 200 bob. I smile thinking of the look on her face when I give it to her.

4400 –The rain water reminds me of the water bill. My daughter is sensitive so I prefer buying water for her so that she does not get sick. That will cost me 400 for the whole month.

4000 – I thank God I do not pay for electricity. We do not use the telly anymore; I have not saved enough for the decoder. I sigh. I miss watching Papa Shirandula. I remember I owe Joe wa kuchomelea 300 for repairing my roof.

3700 – I need shoes, especially because of the rainy season but my son needs them more. I will have to wait until next month. I am sure I can get a good deal for leather shoes and additional sandals – the ones they call CDF. That should cost me 500.

3200 –The rain dies down, I contemplate taking a matatu. I really wanted to buy my family fish from Otieno but I am sure he will be closed by the time I get there. I will buy tomorrow since it is my off day. A woman is crossing the road. Cars are hooting at her. I wonder what time she will get to her family. She reminds me that my daughter’s appointment with the surgeon is this month. That will cost me 500 because the company pays the other half plus medication.

2800 – I ran towards a matatu on the road. The tout tells me its 50 bob. I feel the pain but I need to get home.

2750 – I get home at 9pm. Soaked to the bone. My wife is waiting for me, she looks happy. I smile. She sets the bathing water for me. I take a bath and sit to eat. She made rice today; it would have gone great with the fish. We talk about everything and nothing. She informs me that her sister is not feeling well and she needs to go see her. It would cost her 600 but she has 300.

2450 – We head to bed. The children are already asleep. My wife falls fast asleep. I can not because my back pains because of the mattress. I have been saving for a new one. I am 900 short so I will buy it next month.

2000 – I close my eyes knowing I have to wash more cars this month as this is the only money I have left. Good thing my brother owes me 400 shillings. I will have to call him in the morning, 20 bob airtime should be enough.

1980 – I have a debt too. I had totally forgotten. I have to pay the Mama Duka 600 bob.

Kshs. 1380 -  It is now 11p.m. My month just started.

Regards, L.O.P :-)

WHEN THE MUSIC FADES

I know I have been quiet, so someone decided to break the silence for me. Today, we break the norm. 

Thanks to The Rackster (follow that link for a journey like you wouldn't believe), L.O.P lets someone in to her space. Enjoy the Sunday creativity :-)

"Have you ever been to New Orleans?" She asked.

"No."

"You'd love it. The place is alive with music. The jazz fills your ears and your soul dances."

As she spoke there was a fire in her eyes. A little flame that danced. A gleamer of hope in those big glassy beads. She was engulfed by her own words. Trying to lose him in a city she was all well too familiar with. Her hands were up mimicking the dancing souls her eyes closed transporting her into another world. She was a free spirit. Her name was Louisa.

She opened her eyes and threw her arms around his neck. Planting a soft kiss on his rugged cheek. She loved the scruffiness. It itched but in a comforting way. She looked deep into his eyes as if she were searching for his soul.

"Let's go to New Orleans." She whispered.

She let go of his neck grabbed his hand and led him into a little store along the cobbled streets. She did not wait for a response because she needed none. Hers was not a question but a statement. They were going to New Orleans and that was that.

"Here this hat will look good on you." She said  as she put a blue and white polka dotted Lincoln type hat on his head.

He looked into the mirror on the wall and staring back at him was this hulk of a man. Standing at about six foot two inches and layers of muscle stacked on his frame.

"I look like a clown on steroids Louisa."

His voice was deep and coarse. His lips thinned into a smile. He broke into a little dance; like he was Scandinavian. They both laughed. A few people in the shop stopped to look. They had probably never seen a man so huge acting so silly. It was amusing at the same time disarming. They left the store, hat in a bag, arm in arm and walked into the sunset. The red glow of the sun kissed the cities skyline in front of them a city that came alive in the dark. Their city was much like New Orleans only it wasn't. They were in love only that they weren't.

It had been ten years since they walked out of the store into the sun kissed city's skyline. The sounds of their steps on the cobbled street still vivid in her mind. She was in New Orleans he wasn't.She went alone and hoped he would follow. He never did. For ten years the music that came alivein her mind when they were together was dead. She was surrounded by all she ever wanted but she was alone. Her soul no longer danced. She wondered if he was happy or if he ever looked for her or at least wonder if she was okay.

Shortly after they stepped out of the store his smile disappeared. He was stern and had a worried look in his eyes. He couldn't hold her stare like he used to as his eyes kept darting to the side. He was hiding something and she could feel it.

"What's wrong Gerald?" Louisa asked.

Looking back she wished she hadn't. Maybe her asking had to do with everything that happened.  Maybe if she had ignored everything she wouldn't have burst the bliss that she had come to know.

"This, you, everything." Gerald replied.

"It's not what I want." He continued.

His arms were on her slender shoulders. In a weird way she felt reassured. They were breaking up right there on the cobbled streets. She could hear her New Orleans music fade in the distance. She wanted to cry but couldn't.  She wanted to speak but words failed her.  A dry throat and stinging eyes were her solace. Her breathes were now short her voice almost hysterical.

"B...B...B...but.." She stammered.

He let go of her shoulders and walked away across the street into a crowd of black suit wearing business men. He didn't blend in he stuck out in his red leather jacket but he walked until she could no longer see him.

"Come back." Louisa croaked.

"Please."

Her eyes were a waterfall and they flooded her small round face. Those beady glass balls a shade of red. Her hands were in her hair holding it up scrounging her palms into fists and tugging hard. She couldn't believe what just happened.  She didn't want to believe. She wanted someone to wake her up from a bad dream. She never woke up. Her dream became her reality. She moved to New Orleans chasing the music. She never caught it.

The streets were lined with bell bottom wearing men adorning striped pull necks and black suspenders over them. They were dancing and playing all kinds of instruments. Laughter filled the air and the streets were full of dance. It was some sort of festival. Louisa was right in the middle of it in a white cinderella dress. She turned with the music swirling the edge of her skirt in majestic whirls and twists. She sang so loud her voice rising into the City's already jubilant air. At last he had forgotten.  Finally the music caught up to her. She bumped into some stranger and stepped back to apologise taking his hands into hers forcing him to dance. She looked up and stopped. That red leather jacket brought back memories. It brought back tears. She was both happy and sad. She was choking on both nostalgia and grief. It was Gerald. He came finally to New Orleans.

"What did I tell you hmmh" Louisa said

She moved in circles around him holding his hands smiling and laughing. Her eyes still large and glassy. Her 

face still small and round her smile still golden.

"You were right Louisa." Gerald replied

She then let go and walked into the crowd. Leaving him mesmerised searching frantically for her. But she was gone. Lost to the city lost to the music.  She was New Orleans. He was not. Sometimes some loves are meant to be lost never to be found and that's exactly what happened.  He lingered around the streets for the next few weeks. Walking around in his lazy strut and red leather jacket.  Hoping to catch a glimpse of her one more time. But she was gone. Probably bringing music to someone else's life. It had been too long. He felt foolish for thinking otherwise. But a man can wish. He had things to say. Like how he came back to the cobbled streets every day hoping to catch her. How he heard she had flown into New Orleans and he flew in two days later. Searching for her. How the city had been cruel and there paths never chanced upon each other. How he danced at every festival. How he had a wardrobe of red leather jackets because he knew that was the last thing she remembered. He carried these words to his grave. When the music finally died forever.

LET'S MAKE FIRE

Fire is an element. It is made by..........Hahahahaha. You honestly thought I am going to tell you how to make fire? What do I look like? A fire Marshall  (Okay, that does not make sense since they put out fire)...I have a better one...what do I look like? Size 8? (Get it?).

That said, I have the 4.1.1 on where fire was made last weekend. As in, both literally and figuratively.

What do you think of when you have had a long couple of days? You think of a place by the fire, with awesome company, cool music, limitless food and only your favorite drinks, yes? Lemme guess, sounds like home, ey?....WRONG. There is only one place that brought all these elements together - Cafe UBUNTU Fireplace


Cafe Ubuntu FIRELACE
A Tree House Media Limited Production

Tree House Media - Kenya is responsible for this one of a kind event (they should be arrested of arson by the by). I am not an outdoor kinda person but I got schooled. The event's signature is an actual fireplace (with wood and all, just like the old days) around which the guests sit. For this particular edition, we were taken for a road trip to Maai Mahiu, Naivasha to a cosy location Cafe Ubuntu. Away from the city and its hustles. The media house partnered with CTC International which majorly promotes women's welfare around the area with part of the money made via ticket sales being donated to this noble project.

The tickets were affordable with the least going for Kshs. 1200 which entitled you to entrance, entertainment and limitless nyama choma. An extra 400 bob ensured you have accommodation - tented accommodation which brought the Game of Thrones kinda feel to it. There was also an exhibition from the CTC women which included artworks, kikois, bracelets, carvings, you name it. As if this was not enough, there was a cheese, crackers and ice cream stand by Brown's which allowed free sampling! Needless to say, that was where i spent most of the night.

With a fire, guests, food, free goodies and liquor, there is only one more thing left to mention - The performances - This was a deep night of live music, poetry, spoken word and acoustics. In word, FIRE!

What's more, a little birdie tells me the next edition of THE FIREPLACE happens on the 2nd of May, 2015 - yes, just a month a way! I know you can't wait - neither can I :-). Enough talk, let the images talk for themselves - but since i can't shut up to save my life, i will still find a way to do it in between the photos (for more photos, go to Machokali Images)

Let's go!

THE AMBIANCE

THE PERFORMANCE

This was a definite hit with the lyrical master himself JULIANI hosting the show.

Juliani

JULIANI in sync with the man with the magic hands Moseh the Drummist

A surprise performance by NAZIZI, queen of rhyme.

 A lyrical kill by Smallz Lethal himself

The night would not have been the same without Moseh the Drummist

Poetry was laid down by Poetic Bee , Raya and  Fuse

Fuse

Raya

Poetic Bee

The music was melted out by Bensoul , Gachago , Ayrosh , Joe and Noni

Bensoul

Gachago

Joe

Ayrosh Col

Noni

And then there was this guy from the crowd who dared to freestyle......told you there was one of a kind  crowd

THE PEOPLE

 THE AFTERMATH

While the next morning is normally characterized by drank people blacked out on the grass at other events, this was not the case since we have already established this is not just any event. After the previous night's indulgence, there was a morning workout! Yes! How cool is that?

 Did I mention that H_ART the Band was in the building (to be fair - the yard)? Don't be jealous, buy a ticket for the next one :-)

H_ART the Band with an unknown female blogger who writes this blog 

This was the great start to an great event. I can't wait for the next one.

Regards, L.O.P :-)

IN MY HEAD FOR KShs.20 - #KShs. 3 - WHY KANJO MIGHT ARREST YOU

I have never had a personal encounter with Kanjo except once and my very very riveting story regarding my kids being in school because the father did not pick them up got me out of trouble (do not ask which kids, what is it to you?).

City Council policemen (askaris) a.k.a Kanjo are the men and women whose signature clothing is some very very hilarious color scheme of yellow for parking attendants (also known to carry yellow, metallic 'machinery' and can be mistaken for Tyre changing mechanics) and 'Camouflage green (not sure the shade but i am sure Reina would be the right person to ask about color since she is a fashionista and all). Camouflage green is for the traffic askaris then there are the real bad ass'- the ones who drive cages around and round up unknowing (or rather slow) hawkers.

Generally, anyone would tell you that an encounter with these men/women is not funny. Many of us would naively say that we can not be caught by these men/women because we don't break the follow. I know the things we avoid doing e.g. littering, talking on the phone while crossing the road, sitting on flower beds such and such.

But here is what you did not know- these are my top ten reasons why you might not be too far from the long leg or hand or both of the Kanjo.

Here are some of Nairobi County By-laws:

1.Signalling, guiding and or directing a driver of a vehicle into or out of a parking place is an offence

Yes boo boo. Do not guide your friend out of the parking lot..i mean what kind of patriot would do   something like that? It goes against the moral code. Let him/her hit all the cars. Good thing about this law is that the next time those dudes at Jamia parking lot ask for 'chai' for guiding you out of a parking space, tell them you will get them arrested, after you are safely in the clear of course.

2. Entering any premises which are on fire without authorisation from the senior office

Yes, the next time you want to run into a burning premise....remember to check in with the senior officer. He/she just might grant you permission :-)

3. Each person engaging in hawking must have a badge and wear it at conspicuous places

So to the ladies especially, the next time you are knee deep in chiffon tops on Moi Avenue, remember to ask to see the badge of the hawker. You could pull a 'License and Registration Please' on him. I mean, with all the running with gunias (can someone please recruit this people for athletics - 100M) and teargas, what excuse does this hawker have not to be spotting a badge? It might read "TONY KAMAU OYUGI - HAWKER-CBD AREA"

4. Parking of any vehicle other than a matatu at a matatu terminus is an offence

I have always wondered why there are no private vehicles in the terminus'...its actually a by-law. I think this one is a good one seeing how private vehicle owners like parking their cars in town whiel they live in Ngara and could have just walked.

5. Six or more persons' waiting to board a matatu must queue.

More power to the law abiding people of Jogoo and Mombasa road. This is actually a good one...getting handbags cut into half in the scramble by petty thieves was never funny.

6. A person doing a kiosk business shall not sleep overnight in the business places

Sleeping in your kiosk is very wrooooooong. I guess its a lucky break for all cyber, boutique and cake (lol)  shops, y'all can sleep in the business premises. Kiosk owners, keep off.

7.Bargaining or buying from a hawker in undesignated area is an offence

Its either you bargain or buy, not both. The next time hawkers run, do not just stand there, RUN! You are an accessory to making ends meet...sorry, i meant murder.

8. Blowing your nose aimlessly without use of a tissue or handkerchief is an offence

Enough said. But note that aimless is not the crime, lack of a tissue or handkerchief is. Be aimless in a tissue or handkerchief.

9. No owner of a dog shall permit a dog to cry, bark in a manner that disturbs peace and quiet.

The next time your dog asks for permission to bark or cry, deny deny deny. No means No.

10. A pedestrian crossing a road at the zebra crossing or designated crossing areas shall walk on the left on such pedestrian crossing

Walking on the right gives you the right to remain silent and what you shall be exaggerated and used against you in no court at all. That said, I think this one enhances safety because every time people cross from a zebra crossing from both directions, its like the effing start of a rugby match.


So you are not as law abiding as you thought, yes? Shame on you. Mscheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew.

Regards, L.O.P :-)

IN MY HEAD FOR KShs.20 - #KShs. 2 - FRIENDS YOU SHOULD DUMP

Friendships are very tricky especially in this day and age where individuality is more common than trees. Personally, I have never been good at the constant communication but I know i turn up when I am needed. No one is perfect but there are people who can not be friends even if it were to rain water (get it?)

Like any other relationship, friendship needs work.I don't know why people assume friendships can run on autopilot. Its a relationship like any other.

That said, these are the kind of friends you definitely don't need. I know letting go of 'friendships' is hard but really, is it worth the effort? I do not think so. I write this from experience unlike some 'bloggers' who lift stuff from other sites.

Here goes...

1. THE SINGLE CARRIAGEWAY

Sample conversation:
Daisy: Hey, lets go out.
Lorna: I am busy

2 days later...
Lorna: Daisy, lets go out.
Daisy: I have school work...
Lorna: Its the only free day I have, no excuses

This is the kind of friend who is only available when she is available. Plans are plans only if she is available. Your schedule is not important. Your needs are not a factor. S/He is the only important part of that relationship. Drop that friend in some dirt road somewhere and never look back.

2. THE MOSQUITO

This is a blood sucking friend who stops at nothing. This are the overly dependent friends who only find you when they need something or some favor or because they have seen you have extra tickets to some event.

They drain you of you energy, money, time, goodness and emotions. They never give back, they never reciprocate.

Sample conversation:
Daisy: Aki sweetie i am stressed
Lorna: Whats up hun?
Daisy: My boyfriend is mad at me; aki i don't know what to do
Lorna: *Advice galore
Daisy: I do not have money for bras
Lorna: Mpesa

One month later:
Lorna: Umepotea
Daisy: Niko tu.
Lorna: I am stressed
Daisy: Pole

One week later:
Daisy: Lorna sweetie, unaenza ni peleka kwa wedding fulani. We can use your ride.
Lorna: No problem hun

SWAT THAT MOSQUITO! Friendship should benefit both parties. Friendship is mutual. You are not a one stop shop.

3. THE LOOSE BRA

This is a friend who will never support you. It does not matter what you need support in. It does not matter if you are need emotional, physical or endevour support. This friend is not there. For example, I tend to share links a lot and people I consider friends (or family) can't take five minutes to read. You get my drift?

Friends are meant to support you, to uplift and encourage you. This friends can not even support your hustle. If a friend paints, buy a paint one time. If a friend sells bracelets, buy one. If your friend does plays, attend some. If your friend has a function, attend it. But the loose bra does not. All they do is pretend they are there but not really.

Bin that bra.

4. THE JOURNALIST

Sample conversation
Lorna: Mapya?
Daisy: I am okay but my mother and father are breaking up, the cat died and I failed my exams.
Lorna: Woi Pole. Things will work out.
Daisy: Enough about me. How are you?
Lorna: Nothing, Niko tu.

This is the kind of friend who is always up in your business but never tells you about their lives. They essentially do not think you deserve to know more than the "I got a new job' details. I tend to believe in the kind of friendship where we can talk on everything and nothing.

Fire the journalist. If you wanted a one-sided sharing session, go to a psychiatrist.

5. THE BAE GROUPIE

Sample Conversation
Daisy: Can we hook up?
Lorna: I wish but i am taking Peter to the dentist

Daisy: Please take me to Hosi
Lorna: Aki i had plans. Peter's cat died, there is a service

Daisy: Lorna, ice cream this Saturday. My treat.
Lorna: Woi, imagine its Peter's parents anniversary. I can't make it.

Three months later...
Lorna: Can we hang out?
Daisy: I am going upcountry.
Lorna: Aki woiye, this is the only weekend Peter is out of town.

This is the kind of friend who never has time for you when she/he is in a relationship. Everything is centred on the better half. The only time you two seem to get to hang out is when they break up, have beef or when they can not hang out with them.

CANCEL THE CONCERT. Romantic relationships should never take the place of friendships - its great to find time for friends.

I know i used examples with female names but that was just for functional purposes. This list applies to both men and women. Good thing is
its never too late to stop being 'dumpable'...unless well, it is.

Remember: 'There is no such thing as a bad friend; you either have good friends, acquaintances or they are not a friend.'

Cheers to better friendships.

Regards, L.O.P :-)

IN MY HEAD FOR KShs.20 - #KShs. 1 - WHY YOUR PILAU IS A NJERI

I was challenged by one Sarah Lebu (get her beautiful pieces there) to do 20 pieces in 20 days. This challenge was accepted because i am the girl you tell to run on her head and I still try.

This will be different from the normal monthly posts. I will give you a sneak peak of what goes through my head. This will be random; all my interests, thoughts and feelings in 20 days. Lets do this, ey?

Lets start with my first love and exceptional skill (yes, i said it): FOOD AND COOKING.

Pilau is a Swahili dish made in most households. The best pilau dish is a balance of many aspects. I am going to give five of the most frequent mistakes made when making this perfect dish.

1. WHY YOU MAKE RICE UGALI

This is a common feature of most rice dishes made in Kenyan kitchens. I mean why would you make rice if it ends up looking like the brown ugali? The first step in making sure your pilau turns out perfect is to make sure the rice does not clump together. There are recommendations I would make for the rice brands that I prefer but they have not paid for advertising. Hint: Opposite of sunset.

The trick to make sure rice does not clump is to wash it! Easy yes? NO! I mean really wash the rice until the water turns clear. The starch is responsible for the cloudy appearance of the water. Starch is responsible for the sticking together of rice grains so wash wash wash.

Frying rice lightly in a pan also helps. This involves frying washed rice in a very small amount of oil over fire for five minutes before boiling. No more rice ugali.

Go from this kind of Pilau

To this kind of Pilau 

2. WHY YOU MAKE WHITE PILAU

Serving white rice with peas and potatoes and random brown color here and there and telling your guests its pilau is an insult to someone (i am not sure to whom but its an insult). Refering to white rice as pilau is like refering to Marya as talented in music...I mean, what?

The signature look of pilau is the GOLDEN COLOR - not white or black, but Golden color. The mistake people make is to think that the color is as a result of Pilau masala.

The trick to getting this golden color is dependent on the color of the onions you fry first. Yes. The color of the onions after frying determines the end color of the dish. Fry onions to a golden brown color or a bit darker and the signature look will be taken care of.

3. WHY YOUR PILAU CAN BE FLU MEDICINE

This has happened to me so many times when I eat at someone else's house. Have you ever looked forward to a plate of pilau but you can smell the pilau masala from under a trailor? The amount of spice especially the usual suspect, Pilau masala is enough to make your flu go away, cure your muscle aches and open up your sinuses. I am sure you relate.

The amount of spices to put in pilau is not a perfect science but here is a tip to make the results better:
Use whole spices instead of the ground ones hence controlling the flavor and getting the most of it at the same time. Spices are naturally balanced but there is one thing most people do not do; roast the spices before use. This is the best way to maximize on spices. Please do not throw the spices over open fire, just place a sufuria over fire until its hot then throw the spices in and stir for about three minutes. These are now perfect for use.

4. WHY YOUR PILAU DOES NOT HAVE THE O-FACTOR

O-factor is brought about by the amount of onions you put in the first place. Crazy hint: Pilau does not need tomatoes. The flavor of your pilau is depedent on the onions. Go crazy with 4 onions and above. Cut them into rings too (adds nothing) but makes it look yummier in my opinion.


5. WHY YOUR PILAU IS OVER/UNDER COOKED

If you make a lot of it, the upper part is normally too crunchy meaning its undercooked. Use the old time trick, cover with a lid, remove from fire and put hot charcoal on top. Perfect.

Over cooked rice is the main enemy of the state. This is usually due to wrong water to rice ratio measurement. I know the old rule is 1:2 but I recommend 1:13/4 to make sure that the rice is cooked just right.

RANDOM TIP: Fry full potatoes in oil and throw into the pilau. This makes sure they are not mushy by the time the rice is done and gives them a crunchy taste. Do not slice or chop the potatoes, whole potatoes make better pilau.

Thank me later.

Regards, L.O.P :-)

8-FO-FO

Lala fo-fo-fo

So if you learnt Kiswahili you know fully well what the saying above means. Actually, if you went through the same system as i did which is the 8-FO-FO system (forget the emission of the last fo). I know the education system that has churned you and I out trained us to cram and emit as exactly but i had to play around with that.

8-FO-FO. So if I have to explain this to you then you have no business reading this but before you leave lemme just tell you that i do not blame you, not entirely anyway,

8-FO-FO is the Kenyan Education System but in all fairness, its refered to as 8-4-4 in official matters. But 8-FO-FO is more appropriate because of the kind of product it produces.  A sleepy product is more like it. The system is not entirely faulty because there is a percentage of the products that actually work but most of the products do not.

Things have to change but before they do, lets go through the motions one more time. 

NURSERY SCHOOL

So this is where it begins but luckily enough, it is not included in the Robot Number Activation sequence code 8-4-4. Which is also quite accurate because it is the only part of the system that is not quite wrong. It takes three years but it remains the most important part of the system yet its the most underrated and ignored part of the system. The fact that the same people who clean us when we go for number 1, 2 and 3 (when its a mixture), replace the scribbling with letters, the mumbling with words and the constant crying to expression are the least paid shows how up side down the system is.

A child, lets call him Edu, is brought to school by either his mother or father and most probably the house girl. He is dressed in oversized clothes, in most cases blue shorts, a shirt and a sweater whose sleeve hangs on one side. This day is usually marred by tears, screams, crawling and clawing, snot running down the nose and loud cries for mummy when little Edu realizes its not the promised Disney world.

I think Nursery school serves its purpose. When its done, we go to Primary school.

PRIMARY SCHOOL

This is the first number on the sequence, the 8. This should take one 8 years to complete before you sit a 3 day exam if you minus all the foreplay, that reduces your intelligence to the scale of 0 - 500. That is the grading system. This is where the rot begins. The primary level is divided into two sections - Lower and Upper. Lower is from Class 1- 4 or 5 while upper primary is Class 6-8.

Little Edu can now speak and write in a total of two languages excluding the mother tongue which is really a birth right.He is still in oversized shorts but a different color, mostly maroon. There are two fundamental changes - the weight of the bag (wtf do they carry in these bags?) and the 'working hours'. This is when Little Edu is given a bag thrice his size and has to wake up at 4 am to make it to school in time.

Please note that Edu is barely ten at the moment but wakes up earlier than the cock that is supposed to crow. That is why school buses are the main sleeping area for this kids hence emphasizing the 8-fo-fo slogan.  The heavy bag has three books for the each of the five subjects he is supposed to learn - so there is Primary mathematics, Fast learner mathematics and Go figure mathematics. 

I am no expert but for a child's healthy development, this is too much pressure, too fast, too early.

Little Edu goes to Upper Primary. He fits in his shorts alright, he can now carry the bag more comfortably and can handle the long hours.He is experiencing changes in his body. He can not speak to girls, he would rather die despite the fact that the teacher has paired them in the seating arrangement. Little Edu has five subjects to excel in but his real interest is in art but the system subscribes Maths, English, Kiswahili, Social Studies and Science. He has to pass and go to the 'Top schools' and this can only happen if he gets 400marks.

Here is where shit hits the fan especially in Class 8 with every nosy relative asking how many marks you are getting and not enough asking your fee balance. Edu is now taller than the mother. He crams the curriculum because in this system, no one cares if you can paint Monalisa up side down with 3D effects, hell no! -We care about how many marks you get in a three day examination that is supposed to reflect on your capabilities and your intelligence but really, it just shows how good you can cram. 

I will admit that there are students that are good in school - what the curriculum offers but there is the other majority that is not. There is an equally important majority that do have seven of the other intelligences that are not catered for by the system. 

Edu did not do that well in the examination but he was in a public school so yaaaaay, he gets a free pass because even the Government knows that studying in their over crowded schools that never have enough of anything, teachers that have to handle the amount of work but are equally lazy (trust me when i say the fact that my niece was still on page 3 of their English text book as per yesterday does not reflect well on them) and very low morale is a disadvantage. But instead of correcting the real problem, why not give Edu a free pass?

So the robot sequence has been initiated and is carried over to secondary school.

SECONDARY SCHOOL

Secondary school is the second number in the Robot sequence. This consists of four years of preparing for another examination that takes a total of one month or three weeks, i am not really sure, i was busy peering through the curtains in the lab to see what was being set up for the practical exams.

This second part is not entirely rot but as my high school Maths teacher used to say, "No room for rot learning". Which is also a summary of our system. Edu has to choose between a very limited numbers of subjects that he wants to study which is not really long enough because its either he does a language or Business Education (to be fair though, there are others like Home Science and bla bla)

Edu plays sports though, he is really good at Basketball but he show cases it to Provincial levels (thats what they called it during my time). He is also very good at Drama. Unfortunately this is a high school as the limited talents exploited in this stage are not really followed up by the system except for very few lucky guys here and there. 

Edu gets to Form four. The cycle repeats itself. The examination fever starts all over again. Edu starts cramming all over again because the examination is supposed t test what you have learnt in four years at the same period regardless of your mental state at the moment. Here is where you are graded between A - E. 
Edu got a B- but has been able to expand his skills to curving and graffiti but who cares?

CAMPUS

So this is the final entry to the code. I think we need a moment of silence for this. This is when the educated robots are released to the world to serve in the same careers, with the same skill set and looking for the same types of jobs with the cliche brown envelopes.

Edu is all grown up. All his relatives are all up in his business asking which campus he is going to. He has to do the 'acceptable' courses so that he can get a white collar job working for some guy who is golfing at Muthaiga and live in a middle class neighbourhood. He therefore does a course in IT (just an example) and gets employed and never paints again.Not to mention that campus is characterised by last minute craming and writing of Mwakenya that summarise four years in a single leaflet (which is the real talent btw) which lead to all theory and no skill set at all.

Campus should be where you maximize on the interests, talents and skills that should have been identified at the beginning but noooooooo, nothing to maximize on. Just completion of the Robot sequence where Edu thinks that since he can speak in English and can barely construct a sentence Kiswahili , he is the most educated. This is where the real certificates of doom are given , and not only in Nairobi Aviation but to every Edu given certification for something that he is not in the least interested in and will just do to make a living is the real doom. (Get it? Like Certificates of doom - ah, forget it)


ROBOT SEQUENCE COMPLETE. 

See, the government should make fundamental changes rather than making silly rules every time they announce results of exams that really do not make sense. 

Here is where all my answers are correct. (Like A, B, C and D)

• Grading system - why would you determine the abilities of a person based on an examination he did at one point of his life? I am not completely brushing off grading but i am saying that grading more than 200'000 people on the same exam is a set up! Its like asking a drunkard to drive with the risk of crushing but we pray that he does not. Grade, yes, but on something that one likes and is actually good at.
• Identify interests and talents - this ensures that we are not all looking for the same jobs because we are diverse, we do not fight for grass because others are better at reaching for twigs. We need a system that works on making a kid reach their full potential rather than reach a certain level in terms of grades.
• Practical learning - i know people who can not write a letter to save their lives. Our system needs to give us actual skills rather than how to expand an algebraic equation. Teach us how to manage finances instead of how to disect a rat. Teach us how to relate to people rather than how to know when Mwelusi decided to go to the well.
• Skills vs Theory - I went to medicine school, i did nursing but i knew of medical students who could not fix an IV line to save a life because they are all theory, no skills. The culture of cramming and passing exams versus learning is what is making ignorant robots with an education graduate everyday.

So basically, the education system is churning out robotic zombies (What? There are hybrid werewolves - i can form whatever creature i want because 8-4-4 can't do nothing about it)

Here are my favorite quotes (I copy pasted them because that is one of the skill sets i got from the system)

Education these days is making youths suffer like mental patients, but no one has anything to say about it because there is no other option to be given.” ― Kaya Carvajal

The whole educational and professional training system is a very elaborate filter, which just weeds out people who are too independent, and who think for themselves, and who don't know how to be submissive, and so on -- because they're dysfunctional to the institutions.” ― Noam Chomsky

“We are students of words: we are shut up in schools, and colleges, and recitation -rooms, for ten or fifteen years, and come out at last with a bag of wind, a memory of words, and do not know a thing.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson,

Question is, which are you? A zombie or a robot? I have no idea which one i am. I was never good at exams anyway.

Regards, L.O.P :-)

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