Category Archives: blogging

Sibling Thievery

There is this thing we call sibling rivalry, Well, we never suffered from this disease in our family. We were more collaborative, so most of the time we got neck-deep in shit as a family. In fact, we suffered from a more powerful disease, It’s commonly known as sibling thievery!
My sister June Nyawade and I stole a lot of small things (note that ‘small things’ doesn’t mean we were cleptomaniacs) we stole useful things like maziwa, chapat, mandas, miksi and honey too. you see stealing these small things and getting away with it gives one a very addictive adrenaline rush, we started simple. we were just exploring our abilities and stretching our realities a bit but soon it became a game.
Being that my sister spent most of her days in the boarding school, I was left to exploit these opportunities at home alone. My favorite days were when father came home from Kisumo with two polythenes full of shopping, there would be honey, miksi, goldband and some other sweeties I have since forgotten what they were called…YOu see, I was no thief I was just taking liberties with things I was entitled to, It was the time of serving that I didn’t approve of, I was no thief I was just impatient.
It so happened that one day, I had come from school for lunch, as mama was busy in the kitchen I took my sister Dorcas, then still a baby to her crib but I didn’t stop there..I walked to the door and called mama twice just to make sure she hadn’t followed me.
‘Aaaan’ mama itikaad
At this point you have to be very creative
‘Nyathini pek manade kawuono yawa’
‘hahahahaha kwani ikia ga ni ng’at manindo pek’
‘ooyo mama afwenyo kawuono’
‘tim piyo, ilokna rombono kapok idok sikul’
Having made sure that the disciplinarian was busy, I hopped into her bedroom and opened the kabat..2kgs of Miksi just stood there waiting for me…my ooh my…no spoon! what do you do? cup your hands and do the scooping-licking, scooping-linking and then baang the bedroom door opens…and then history! I went to school without taking lunch…
From that day henceforth I swore not to indulge my impatience in absence of my accomplice, so when she came back we pulled the mother of all thieving.. we drank all the milk we were given to boil..when mama came back she found us very busy teaching Lucy some manners..Lucy was once a faithful cat, dare we call this corruption? Lucy was just a Josephine Kabura, the Waigurus were the ones ripping it’s skin off now..
‘yawa pakanani tinde osechako kwelo yawa’ is all mama said!
I know June Nyawade will say this is a lie
I also know That I have just fooled you!

Appreciation and Gratitude

Now that 2015 has come to end, its only logical to sit down and analyze what went wrong to be ditched and what went right to be extrapolated in 2016. As I checked my blog I realized that I have had periods of dryness; periods when nothing came forth to my loyal readers, those who have been reading all of my posts, rating, liking and commenting on my writes. most of the time this can be attributed to the fact that my hustles have been taking me off the couch into places far away from my keyboard. Another reason is that I am still looking for a reliable yet affordable internet connection to be able to post these writes daily. I hope 2016 will present more quality problems like ” Oh my God How do I begin to respond to 200 comments?” and ” Ohh my goodness how could I post 10 writes in a day? this is killing my readers! Lol.

As I am waiting for 2016 to unfold, I want to thank all those who visited my blog and helped make it what it was! Honestly 2015 has been the year in which I accomplished a lot, I even submitted my nature poems to Avocet- An American Nature Journal and two of them got published! there are some bloggers that are worth the mention, they have been visiting this blog now and then making it even busier. they include:
Sabiscuit
Ms. Vee
Rubisaid
Thelonelyauthor
makagutu
Robbert Okaji
Miss crocodile
Paul F Lenzi
Holy Ray
Dennis Caddiff
Kaushika
Shawn Bird
Shadow of Iris
Kunal Thakore

Very many other writers with strange pen names that I cant remember without exiting this draft and going deeper into the blog stats. I say Thank You for the far we’ve come. Actually if your name appears on ‘The Most Valued Friends” section of my blog, just know you’re highly valued. stick by me as we get ready to unravel the mysteries of 2016. Happy Blogging in 2016.

Assumed Dead!

Yesterday was one of the worst days, i’ve ever had….I woke up at 5 am and left for Kahawa for shoot. Even as I left my house and whispered my prayers with padlock in my palms I felt something sinister was impending. When I reached Rounda, I decided to get in a café and break the fast, half-way through the session the producer calls and insists that I have to wait for some two beautiful virgins as they do not know where the shooting will be done…I sat for close to two hours. watching touts fight, assuming beggars do not see me ,scratching my head, licking my lips and blowing my nose. Finally the ladies showed up looking like Mps’ Clandes and the way they initiate their conversations like they arrived 30 mins before you did, do you even get a room to complain? They are the first to spot a mathree plying the route and head for it, I stay behind insisting that we take another vehicle, something in me was against boarding the van but two against one; they win. Little did they know that just few seconds in the van one was to miss her phone. I just heard “ my phone woiyee! please give me back my phone…..its everything I need”…and the son of a bitch just jogged as the touts watched and I could do nothing as well. she cursed, she cried, she felt sore and bitter at everything…….After waiting for hrs for my scene to be shot, shooting ended at about 8:30 pm, my scene not shot still and I come home and this juicy neighbor’s daughter meets at the staircase and smiles and asks me where I had been. She says, “aki tuligonga mlango yako mara mob, tunaona slippers kwa mlango but hatujakuskia ukipiga kelele (we knocked your door sverally, we saw your slippers at the verandar but we havent heard you shout)for the past three days, we thought you were DEAD!” I have been thought of as insane so many times but this was the first time I have been assumed DEAD… Woiyeee is death looming…let it wait a bit, I need to father a dozen kids .

Popcons for 100th post

Some people were not built for begging, even if they need whatever they are asking for they will be mistaken to have already got it. I am fortunate to be in this category but today I drop the tittle and I am here asking for popcons, bottles of all drinks brewed, chicken breasts, biscuits, chocolates or coffee and whatever it is you can offer, its my 100th post and we need to toast…But before you begin sending anything I think I owe you much more especially those who have been reading, rating, sharing, rebloging, commenting and liking my posts. Most importantly I thank those who have been critiquing my works, you have made me grow . I thank you for being here and may you please stamp your presence on this blog, if it makes you grow, well and good, read and read more of my writes. If everything in this blog has fallen short of your expectations, please share with and help me know how I an surpass your expectations but even in the midst of it all don’t forget that its the imperfection in what we do that make us human,perfection is the greatest enemy of creativity and when what you thought is broken is not fixed even after you suggesting that I do so, just know it was meant to be broken or it wasn’t broken in the first place!

Stay, here I can’t promise you much, for you have been promised bigger things but you can know you will always find enough to read whether borne of creativity or insanity. Being a little insane isn’t that bad after all, insanity spices life and life will never be life without flaws and insane beings of my variety.

what a coincidence my 100th post is on a full moon.. it looks like a ball of fire!

Now let the goodies flow! send anything but veges, av got enough!!

Love you all,
George Agak

U-Tube Manometer Drama

U-tube manometer drama

Madam entered, I was asleep but the tik, tik, tik, that was the evidence of engagement between her high heels and the floor got me bolt upright. I was drooling, but I still don’t understand why everybody was looking at me, had I made any weird sound? Or was it a hiss or an aroma, a spice or whatever it was that changed the chemical air composition that made the whole class to turn their heads towards my direction? I am yet to know.

Everything still as hazy, I was told to clean the chalk board and I did, That was whom I was; a very obedient student but never be fooled my only defense was what I baptized ‘the reverse mechanism’, I was physically weak and so staging a physical fight would have placed me in the front line of a death row. I never blamed God for that because he knew how to make up for the absence of biceps, shindumbu, masgwembe and six packs that he never bequeathed me on the day of creation. Apparently, I was late he was already heading for the dining when he saw me coming for my share of the muddy touch, so he created with a tim piyo wadhi attitude. My defense was my tongue and the words were the weapons.

The lesson began, as she turned to begin writing, I caught a glimpse of what apparently was to be displayed before my naked eyes yet I was supposed to refuse to see! I was only 15 but I knew a good ass when I saw one, the problem wasn’t really in seeing but what followed; not only did my eyes get glued but they tried to see what laid way beyond the rears and that left my mind in sort of lustful frenzy, fantasies crept in and I began day dreaming. If this has ever happened to you, you will know that daydreaming about a woman who is supposed to be your physics teacher is not only detrimental to your cognitive functions but also for your genital health. Such fantasies have a tendency of creating a bulge, inflammation, a lump or whatever makes pants adopt shapes that can only be known be known by Pythagoras at the fly. Now my heart was beating faster, I was now melting in my own lava but my main concern was to do all that could be done to conceal the swell that was getting bigger with every second (puberty, I hate you), I pulled the locker closer in a bid to do just that but that only made matters worse, the sound was horrible, she turned to look at the back, my ecstasy slithered but the package was still sickly hard, I thought she was going to tell me to stand up.. I was lucky.

She held the u-tube manometer and filled it with water then she opened her mouth, shaped the lipstick stained lips and blew the device from one orifice, water came spluttering out in suppressed turbulence onto her shoes, the class burst out in laughter, I did laugh too, but my voice was the last to be heard, the walls echoed the mockery with which that laughter was maliciously served, All eyes on me.

“Stand up”, she ordered.

I obeyed,

“Don’t look at me like your village girlfriend”, she fumed

And just as the rule of ‘reverse mechanism’ dictates, I chewed her cud and spat it on her face

“I wish you could match my village girlfriend” I chortled.

And that was the last time I learnt physic. I am still convinced I was innocently evicted from the class. Was I to blame? I blame it on the u-tube manometer mellow drama that placed full-stop on my physics assignment before the sentence was due.

Formally Employed #TBT

So I have been away for some time and I know I owe you explanations. Yeah I value every person who spares his precious time to read whatever I have written and leave a comment, a like or follow my blog. When I began this blog it was a dumpsite of some sort; a place where I could empty my mind when overwhelmed by bundles of insanity; my stories are not born of creativity, no am not creative- just a little insane. If you haven’t noticed life wouldn’t be life without insanity. However as I went on blogging and reading comments of my readers especially yours, I have changed my opinion about my blog. It is no longer a dumpsite but an oasis from where I can tap life lessons that are changing my perception about life. I read every comment posted and each has always opened my eye in one way or the other and I am forever grateful for your every shared thought. With this gratitude I also feel I ought to fulfill my portion of the bargain…to share with you and always avail content worth your time. Having failed to do this please accept my apologies. Great

Let me now get this done with, I have got a formal employment and being a demanding job (call Center) I am afraid I will not be able to keep my blog as busy as it always is but you can know I won’t stop trying. Back to business I got this piece of broken poem, No, unfinished poem in my old notebook as I was looking for original copies of my certificates. It’s unfinished but I believe even dots when joined can communicate something. I hope you enjoy it.

 

So it was. The sun rises from the east

So do our troubles never cease

They have hurt us but much of the hurt comes from within

Like fingers differ in length

So do we differ in strength

The unachievable goals we set bring torture

You fail you feel a low life

Broken, downcast and distraught

You look at a life once hopeful

Taking a miserable turn

And you cry, you apportion blames

You curse, you complain, you call names!

 

Will we ever see the reality?

That life isn’t just a pursuit of a salary

Just like you I have made strategies

To make a better me 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂

#TBT# 🙂 🙂 🙂

 

 

Questioning Fate

I barely know me

I need some sort of a revelation, from he who created me

The things I swore I couldn’t do have become a part of me

The things I hate doing

Things that fill me to the brim with self-loathe

Things hidden beneath my teeth and clothes

 

Sometimes I think my very existence is a mistake

My shoulders are burdened by heavy bundles of blame

For a past that I had no control over

Whoever sowed my seeds maliciously laced them with ounces of shame

 

I am sandwiched between two extremes;

Nobody understands me, neither do I

What am I worth?

I am the color of disappointment,

A definition of failure,

The barren branch of a vine that is chopped and burnt

 

The path to righteousness bruised my shoulders

Vanity found me ugly, couldn’t live in me

Love chose butterflies, fled from the dull me

Behind me trail 99 problems

No one in sight to help me solve them

And I am addicted to things am ashamed to pen…

 

What do I stand for?

For what purpose was I created?

Am I the only one these questions?

 

The Wispers of a Penny

 

THe whisper of a pennyEarly in the morning, late in the night

A penny is whispering, listen and get it right

The racing Cars,the roaring planes all are voices of money

Child if haven’t known, Money is sweeter than honey

 

Money rules the planet

But just keep a few in your wallet

that you may not spend beyond your budget

Strive to save with every shared nugget

 

The Whisper of a penny is in the air, can you hear it

Telling you to save just one out of money you’re given to eat

Just save one and watch it grow in bits

Then buy a piggy bank from all you’ve saved in tins

 

The whisper of penny is in the air, can you hear it

Telling you to stop buying sweets

And reminding you that saving doesn’t make you miserable

But instead makes expensive things affordable

 

Save not only for your skating lessons

But to achieve you wildest Visions

Like owning a Bentley car

And living your life like a star

 

Save          Save                 Save

For with savings…………….

You can buy a car

You can own a mansion

you can buy a yacht

And people will look at you and wonder….

How you built all that from scratch.

 

 

 

The Fifth one Who Stayed Out

the fifth one that stayed out The smallest and most vulnerable

Yet tortured for the sake of fashion

On it you inflict wounds, incurable

I wish you knew, it could change your destination

forcing you to see a doctor

I pity you, the fifth one who stayed out

Refusing to be encased by the straps

Prickled by jagged rocks….

fed on dust….

Chocked by the straps…

Ooh the fifth one who stayed out

Will they ever hear your cry?