Its amazing how this morning I woke up with a heavy head. (Mind you ,I said head and not heart.) I say amazing because every time I do wake up with a pit at the bottom of my belly, I know for a fact that my hormones are as usual having their field day and raging out of control.
However, this time I knew for sure that the air of uncertainty enveloping me as the light filtered in through my girlfriends apartment window, could not have been as a result of wiry and uncontrollable bodily disturbance. I had tried 5 different outfits and I still couldn't figure out why every thing looked horrible on me. (Mind you I said 20 outfits actually meaning 20.)
Luckily for me, in my state of desperation and utter frustration, in walks my bosom buddy, having just landed a couple of minutes earlier from an exhilarating oriental flight. Beaming from ear to ear, she takes one look at me and immediately senses I
However, this time I knew for sure that the air of uncertainty enveloping me as the light filtered in through my girlfriends apartment window, could not have been as a result of wiry and uncontrollable bodily disturbance. I had tried 5 different outfits and I still couldn't figure out why every thing looked horrible on me. (Mind you I said 20 outfits actually meaning 20.)
Luckily for me, in my state of desperation and utter frustration, in walks my bosom buddy, having just landed a couple of minutes earlier from an exhilarating oriental flight. Beaming from ear to ear, she takes one look at me and immediately senses I
'm in dire need of salvation. You know its really amazing how friends, (Mind you I mean real friends not the ones after your man) can detect danger signals from a zillion light years away.
She digs into her bag and pulls out one of the mementos she had readily hand picked herself at the chinese flea market; a 'scrimpy' looking blouse, that she had concluded, one look at it and my heart would melt. (Mind you my heart did melt, but not because of the scruffy looking little thing that i had already envisioned would turn me into a , red-faced toddler, but because she had spared the time to think about me whilst on her overseas rendezvous with an apparent admirer. )
All smiles she embarks on a trip down 'what's wrong?' and 'who is it this time?' memory lane. I wonder why with women, when one is down in the rubbish dumps the cause is immediately attributed to the breed of male life forms walking planet earth and never to the rubbish itself that litters the mind. Anyway, after a couple of minutes of intense interrogations (Mind you I mean an hour), I manged to 'convince' her, and unconvinced she accepted that my heavy head was attributed to nothing. (Mind you I said nothing and I did mean nothing.)
Hands in the air she let me alone to nurse my mental hangover in the living room staring at the famous box. (Mind you I say famous box when I actually mean a waste of box space) Flipping through the channels I settle on the local news, which has today in my opinion almost lost all social appeal. With all the political mileage given to indiviuals running down our country's economy, the local media; I supposeof no fault of its own, tends to propagate unethical behaviour in its satirical coverage of uninformed, greedy persona clutching at straws in public offices.
And of course the first thing I hear are screaming headlines broadcasting the corrupt and underhand happenings during the week of the recent past World Social Forum hosted in Kenya at the Kasarani International Sporting Complex. This huge world event giving Kenya exclusive international coverage and opportunity to attempt to wipe clean its slate and shine on another scale, by successfully hosting hundreds of thousands of international, was marred by a corruption scandal by local airport authorities.
For everyone the World Social Forum was going to be an event cast in stone by many a Kenyan. A time when none would dare forget how nicely their pockets were going to be lined with the much needed american currency. Due to the large and unprecedented influx of delegates forseen to be landing in the country, local hotels, hostels and other boarding facilities were overbooked and filled to capacity. A national appeal had then been made to Kenyans to offer a room at their private inns to assist manage these numbers. Moreover, for every delegate hosted in your humble abode, pennies (Mind you, I mean dollars) were to be dropped into your empty money bag to help cover running costs and appreciate an individual's kindness.
Well, this is Kenya, a land where only the big fish are allowed to thrive in a sea of small fish. What despicable thing did our Airports Authority officials do? Smelling the money way before it docked at the point of entry they plotted and managed to divert all the delegates on the arrival day to their personal homes and private hotels outside the city. So you can imagine the public outcry that followed. Especially from those who had gone out of their way to refurbish their dilapidated housing and furniture to more comfortably accomodate their ghost guests.
Well by now you must know why I woke up this morning with a heavy head. (Mind you, I was one of the small fish who hoped beyond all hope to be lucky this time). I like many other small fish, had moved to temporarily put up at my girlfriend's flat a week earlier, knowing full well that the end of this week would surely bring more than a few pennies.
And you wonder why I am yet to speak well about our country's public office. What really is there to talk about. But hey I am no politician so I will not get into that. Mine is to just speak my mind via penwomanship. Using my mind. (Mind you, I doubt many up there, have any mind at the overall impact of their actions on an economy, let alone the little goldfish)
She digs into her bag and pulls out one of the mementos she had readily hand picked herself at the chinese flea market; a 'scrimpy' looking blouse, that she had concluded, one look at it and my heart would melt. (Mind you my heart did melt, but not because of the scruffy looking little thing that i had already envisioned would turn me into a , red-faced toddler, but because she had spared the time to think about me whilst on her overseas rendezvous with an apparent admirer. )
All smiles she embarks on a trip down 'what's wrong?' and 'who is it this time?' memory lane. I wonder why with women, when one is down in the rubbish dumps the cause is immediately attributed to the breed of male life forms walking planet earth and never to the rubbish itself that litters the mind. Anyway, after a couple of minutes of intense interrogations (Mind you I mean an hour), I manged to 'convince' her, and unconvinced she accepted that my heavy head was attributed to nothing. (Mind you I said nothing and I did mean nothing.)
Hands in the air she let me alone to nurse my mental hangover in the living room staring at the famous box. (Mind you I say famous box when I actually mean a waste of box space) Flipping through the channels I settle on the local news, which has today in my opinion almost lost all social appeal. With all the political mileage given to indiviuals running down our country's economy, the local media; I supposeof no fault of its own, tends to propagate unethical behaviour in its satirical coverage of uninformed, greedy persona clutching at straws in public offices.
And of course the first thing I hear are screaming headlines broadcasting the corrupt and underhand happenings during the week of the recent past World Social Forum hosted in Kenya at the Kasarani International Sporting Complex. This huge world event giving Kenya exclusive international coverage and opportunity to attempt to wipe clean its slate and shine on another scale, by successfully hosting hundreds of thousands of international, was marred by a corruption scandal by local airport authorities.
For everyone the World Social Forum was going to be an event cast in stone by many a Kenyan. A time when none would dare forget how nicely their pockets were going to be lined with the much needed american currency. Due to the large and unprecedented influx of delegates forseen to be landing in the country, local hotels, hostels and other boarding facilities were overbooked and filled to capacity. A national appeal had then been made to Kenyans to offer a room at their private inns to assist manage these numbers. Moreover, for every delegate hosted in your humble abode, pennies (Mind you, I mean dollars) were to be dropped into your empty money bag to help cover running costs and appreciate an individual's kindness.
Well, this is Kenya, a land where only the big fish are allowed to thrive in a sea of small fish. What despicable thing did our Airports Authority officials do? Smelling the money way before it docked at the point of entry they plotted and managed to divert all the delegates on the arrival day to their personal homes and private hotels outside the city. So you can imagine the public outcry that followed. Especially from those who had gone out of their way to refurbish their dilapidated housing and furniture to more comfortably accomodate their ghost guests.
Well by now you must know why I woke up this morning with a heavy head. (Mind you, I was one of the small fish who hoped beyond all hope to be lucky this time). I like many other small fish, had moved to temporarily put up at my girlfriend's flat a week earlier, knowing full well that the end of this week would surely bring more than a few pennies.
And you wonder why I am yet to speak well about our country's public office. What really is there to talk about. But hey I am no politician so I will not get into that. Mine is to just speak my mind via penwomanship. Using my mind. (Mind you, I doubt many up there, have any mind at the overall impact of their actions on an economy, let alone the little goldfish)
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