Tag Archives: Getrude Mungai

Testosterone Pressed Rage

When Puberty took stage

And testosterone pressed RAGE

I felt powerless to resist lust that drove me to the jagged edge

tis a miracle I still have this breath

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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# 🙂 🙂 🙂

 

 

Lessons on BEDminton

You may not like what I am about to say but it is the truth. Housewives speak about ‘bedminton’ most of the time. The nature of my work has allowed me to spend most of my time with the housewives mimi ndiye mwanaume peke yake anayebaki kwa ploti so most of the time their conversations are right under my nose and I don’t need to eavesdrop to get to listen to their stories, they talk so loudly that I can even smell the scent of their stories and I tell you they are nasty, nastier than the Nasty Thomas of the kinyaunyau fame.

housewives telling stories

I was here busy trying to beat a strict deadline, I really had too much to do and yet these women were here having conversation on a very sensitive topic. This topic is not very good for a mhuni like me. I don’t like this topic for two reasons; one, it reminds how lazy I have been in searching for she who is using my missing rib. I don’t always love to have this thought because it leaves me so hollow yet so exhausted to keep up with the cat and rat chase. Secondly, this topic is a distractor, you may pretend to have not heard other conversations but with ‘bedminton’ you will find yourself listening even if you didn’t want to. It is rather funny hearing women declare their expertise in the sector thought to be majorly dominated by men.

Today they were all there, the three of them. Wameweka kikao right outside my door (they might have had some wicked intentions). The “bedminton” stories began with family planning issues. One of them, Mama Melani was on the opposition, she did not want anything to do with contraceptives and she wasn’t ashamed to say that watoto huwezi pangia kama bado unakula keki, kama hutaki watoto afadhali usikule keki ( you can’t plan for children when you are still eating cake, if you don’t want children then you better stop eating cake). She continued to dominate the conversation, haki sijawahi jaribu hizo vitu na hata Baba watoto hawezi kubali (honestly I have never tried those things and I know the father of my children cannot agree) they laugh and she continues hata saa hii sijui kama nina mimba (I don’t even know if I am pregnant now). That’s how ignorant some women are, I conclude and grab the little attention I have got left , the pursuit to beat the deadline resumes. Before I could finish a single paragraph , Someone knocks at the gate and immediately the gate is opened a new conversation is began straight away. Mama Eddy sells, bed sheets and she had brought some for her customers, I bet if that woman fails to make profits from her business then she will become a sex coach just like Getrude Mungai.

She has terminologies! She calls the act a Manchester united and Arsenal match. She not only has terminologies but she knows how to lace her lessons with humor. Here are some of the lessons she taught.

Bed is the foundation of marriage. Ukitaka kutengeneza ndoa unaanza kwa kitanda, she begins. When you are good at bed then your husband cannot have any problem with you and neither can he have a mpango wa kando (Mistress). Wash the bed sheets after every two days when there is no match between Arsenal and Manchester but when there is match wash and replace the bed sheets every day. She says this is necessary because of the lotions they use. Unajua harufu mbaya hutoa appetite ya game! .  She knows too much!

Sex coach

At this moment I faked a cough to let them know I was not asleep but they seemed too involved in their stories to mind my inconvenience. The lessons continue. Sometimes you also need to change things she says toka kwa kitanda mpeleke kwa kiti. At this point mama Miano interjects amidst laughter kwani watoto wako wapi? and her reply left me torn in laughter watoto usijali wewe tengeneza ndoa hata ukianguka kwa mguu ya mtoto endelea tu si wao watasema baba na mama walikuwa wanapigana…hahahahaha I coulnt stop laughing and I couldn’t continue learning the same lessons with the experts.  Need I say I lost my demanding client!