Today I paid particular attention to a car washing machine. In less than ten minutes, the machine sprinkles lots of water, applies soap and scrabs off the dirt from the top, the sides and under the car. It negotiates the curves, corners and contours with amazing skill. I am planning to invent a similar machine for humans. It will be very useful in this age of expanding territorial surfaces which present accessibility problems. Look out.
Posted by Mark M. Chetambe on Wednesday, 26 February 2020
How my dinner plans were ruined last evening:
Me: Niuzie sukumawiki ya twenty.
Mama Mboga: Nikukatie? (With a Delilah smile.)
I walked away faster than an arms dealer.Posted by Mark M. Chetambe on Friday, 21 February 2020
You go to the supermarket. You buy one packet of milk. You queue to pay. In front of you is a supershopper pushing a trolley that looks like a pickup truck. She’s on her phone as the attendant picks the items. After one year, she is finally ready to pay. Then the drama starts. She excavates three purses from a bag that is inside another bag. Checks all the purses. Throws them back in the bag. Her phone falls. She picks it slowly and noisily. Checks her jeans pockets. Nothing. Then her hand disappears under the branded company tshirt. The hand returns with nylone paper, out of which she mines several new crumbled notes. And then begins the eternal process of counting the money. That is how i stopped buying milk.
Posted by Mark M. Chetambe on Thursday, 20 February 2020
Mpesa agent: Unataka kuweka au kutoa?
Me:(Totally confused by the question) Ati?
(I think I am living in the wrong country. I cant quite fit in this economy)Posted by Mark M. Chetambe on Tuesday, 18 February 2020
Just by observing how you walk on the street, a Kenyan hawker can tell if you have rats in your house.
Posted by Mark M. Chetambe on Sunday, 16 February 2020
In the year 2019, I met an old friend in town, and we agreed that githeri is a good idea. After all, it has earned state recognition for one Kenyan. So we chatted as we chewed the maize, beans and occasional weevils. After the meal, I left. But 15 minutes later, I returned to the hotel since I had forgotten my keys. Wonders! My friend was eating ugali and chicken. I stared at him unblinkingly. He stared back with the guilt of a cornered traitor. Since then, he treats me with lots of unnecessary respect. I wonder what his fears are.
Posted by Mark M. Chetambe on Saturday, 1 February 2020