Scene at: Make hay while the sun shines

By Smitta SmittenOkay, so da last coupla weeks have been a lil literary on ma scene, wit the grand culmination been leo at the Hay Festival in Impala grounds (thanx to the wonderful Mutho Garland) lakini I don see nuthin’ wrong with dedikatin a little time to poetry n storos – coz thaz totally cool, kiddos. As kool as Harry Potty. N it don mean these lit events don kick like thate six donkeys on stundu. Dmitn, Nas, Andrei, Sha and SS.Take the ‘Kwani’ launch at Club Afrique las’ Thoosday nite for exampo.We waz warmly welcomed by Kwanite to tha infinite angel Washuka, n a chicka who had shukad her hair ki-madoidoi styley called Xtine Makena. Makesh reminded me of our dear Chiquitta Chiquitten, who has gotta range o’ hairstyles from here to Marakesh. N esh, among the poetsy types, enyewewe, yu do getta see lotsa nomo-to-weird hair-dos.Afro, Abuja, Blow-dry, Full head, Kilimanjaro, Matutas, mosodos, popcorn, pussy miaow, re-touch, shika mo’, spirals, Twin Towers, twist n weave – doncha juss luv all the thingamies our miro mamsillas can do wit their manywele?Club AfriqueNa sii kazi rahisi. I knw, coz I got crazy locks, n the last time I saw Stevo at ‘Hair Art’ was round-a-bout the same time I saw me land-lady, aka, yonks ago. Daktari of Lit, Tom Odhis and the Matatu professor were in the house. Me ole matie Melissa Wainaina (June, hio drink yetu, jo?) was upstairs in Club afriQue’s cool red-lit area, as waz Kwani’s number cruncher, Ero, who enjoys punking me ati he’s KRA Kali. I sat at a table of sweet cheap wine n aspiring filmmakers, wishin’ me KNT pal Elchi waz in da house to answer de pesky questions. I mean, I’m the dood who still thinks ‘Larry Flynt,’ the flick bout the Hustler porn founder waz blow-wow mo’ thn classiks like ‘Gone with the Wind’ (which for the longest time I thought was about fart-n-burp buffs).My pal, Peo, from Sweden, waz also at our table — n he one cool druid. Soon I spotted the exuberant Judy Kibinge, one-a Kenya’s most extraordinary film peeps ever, n her buddy Njeri K who confessed — " I used to think yu are a lil sh*** from hell, Mr Smitta.""Not from hell," I politely replied. "Frm Uranus – a large planet in outer space."Oh well, sigh, y’knw watt they say: "I am the sh8, so get the hell outta ma toy-let!"Back at me table, as I missd film folk of a minit ago like andia kisia, now based in Boston, I thot of her bro, Andy of Capital. And tha way cool Solo of 98.4 is always sendin’ lil biach-SMSmessages anytime we cane him. Bru, look here. If ya can’t handle the hits, thn yu haven’t done ya homework! Watt tha hell does dat mean? Lez aks Eve D’Souza, aka, "ticha ticha?"Oh well, t-least I gotta sjoot the coot with G-wiji, singer, n saw Sam ‘Puff puff’ Ondieki – who walks everywhere wit a guitar. And spotted the last in ‘L’ words Lupita, n the muscian Lynn. N I also got the feeling, I got tha feeling, that tonite waz gonna be a good good nite – coz Alex Konstratas n Irungu Houston was in the Klub AfriQue too. Saw Billy Kahora, my writer-bro do an excerpt frm his brilliant new book ‘The Sad story of Sadera Munyakei’ but somehows missed the talented toonist, Gathara. Did I tell cha me, him, Gado, Odoi n Maddo once toured le country pamoja? Mike Kwani waz tha last chap I saw as I took Kwani 5 – one-a five books been launched – off the hook. N meetin’ Sheba Hirst as we left waz off the Okoiti chain! Of course she be Eric Wainaina’s wifey. N she joked – ‘since me n my sis became moms, yu been elusive.’Ahh- abt six years ago, I had this big crush on her big sis. But she waz tha pard of my scooter-scootin pal, Ed, with whom we used-ta kula a lot of mwenjoyos n raos aroun’ town. But thn she n Ed got a toi, I got this piece-act — so now he a daddy; n I still scootin’ abt on Mission-Mwenjoyos!Russky embassyCom break – ati Caesar was a wanksta coz he ‘came, saw, thn conquered’. Real gangstas first see, conquer, thn kuja, te te. Then on furahiday, I gotta call frm the totally ‘da’ Russki embassy consul, Andrei to ‘come help him celebrate birthday’ somewhere in Loresho. ‘But no come wit a car full of villagers.’ Ha ha. Our Andrei has good sense of humour. The Sharonova n I picked up our ‘from Harvard to Standard’ intern Naseema at Pizza G in Westy, in de rain, n she arrived like a tsarina in a battered chariot – yaani a rusty red bucket taxi 4rm Moo-ranga which was packin’ jerricans to its torn rafters, n polluted Westy wit its cheap diesel frm miles away, for shizzle.Once Nas waz safely esconced inside the ‘Clearly Ash’, twas a dash thru the drizzle to Spring Valley where we got hopelessly lost (this is ‘Uzunguni’wit lonely, tall tree-lined roads n few road-signs (so we wananchi never discover the cheddar people in there, nkt!) n we hadta be rescued n guided to the party house by the Embassy draive, Jose.Of course Andrei, n his warm n luvly spoose Yelena, were there to welcome us. N I got to meet his Paris-based dot’e, Katherina. Not ta forget the red-headed Doc Alina, lit mistress at UoN n an ole friend. I waz also re-acQuainted wit my old pals – real Russki vodoski – who were also gladta see me, as Nas took Hennessy (cos of the rap song she sed) n da Sharonova bonded wit sweet expe wine. But it is me blone crew-cut speck pal, Dmitri, who takes the bouquet. He led us guyz n gals in a wild circle dance as we sang ‘Moscow, Moscow, ha ha ha ha’ n other Sovietski songs span by a cool DJ, who even young Lucas said waz as deadly as P210, as States’ politikol officer Jim Mignon looked on, coolly sippin’ his bourbon.

Scene at: Make hay while the sun shines

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