There are a number of things that can be irritating in this town. Incessant traffic jams long ceased to be one of them. We have accepted and moved on that and it’s now the norm rather than the exception.
The way boda boda riders zig zag in and out of traffic with complete abandon is enough to get you pulling out every hair on your body. Don’t even get me started about some of these young girls trying to tweng like they just rode a hot air balloon from Nairobi’s California to Kariakor.
What gets my ulcers and stomach churching like a concrete ballast mixer is the sight of full grown men walking around with water bottles carried from home. How on earth can I be found carrying water around in a bottle like a child going to school?! In my culture, I would rather be caught dead with my pants down than walk around with a water bottle from home. What would my grandfather do to me?
Let’s leave it at that, I shudder at that thought. My friend, to be honest, there are sissy things so-called ‘pink men’ do in Nairobi which if elders in my village learnt that I also do them, they will sermon me to go and explain why I should not be punished.
But honestly what would motivate a man to stretch his hand over his head, lift a water bottle, possibly meant for his sister or memsahib, proceed to the tap or water dispenser, proceed to draw the water, pick his back pack and walk to the bus stop?
How sissy have our men become? Some shamelessly walk around with umbrellas, lip balm, and what not. I even have this annoying colleague who has a ka-small shoe brush that he always uses to clean that piece of leather on his legs every time he steps in and out of the officer. The cheek of it!
This is the same generation that cannot sit still in a pub simple because the memsahib has sent a text message and is reporting that there is no milk in the house. What is the kitchen budget for? What is the mobile money transfer for, if not to sort such inconveniences? What normally happens with milk when they are in the house? Are they the ones that are milked daily for tea to be prepared?
No go zone
The current crop of urban men in this town need to man up! I have got no problem with a man wearing a pink shirt. After all where I come from clothes are for covering nakedness and it really doesn’t matter the quality or colour of the fabric. But to entertain incessant calls from your wife or fiancée when you are having a beer with your elders s a no go zone.
This is the breed of people who date women who cannot cook anything beyond a fried egg. Just imagine life as a bachelor and your daily itinerary includes passing by the supermarket daily to buy ready food.
Fast forwards six years later, you are dating and its looking promising to metamorphose into something better, but still you still pass by the supermarket to buy food.
Yet, unlike before you now have a woman under your roof, yet you are still reduced to eating tripe and vegetable rice from the supermarket.
Where is the upgrade from being a bachelor?
These ‘pink men’ need to man up or they might as well surrender the centuries-old domination that they have had over women that was defended by our grandfathers and fathers and bestowed upon us. But do they have the gonads? Folks, grow a pair!