I am not financially stable like Nairobi girls want me to be

My hot girlfriend demands that we shift from my hot spacious bedsitter in Kinoo-Regen. My first problem is why she says “we” and yet she does not assist in rental payment. This “we” has a legal implication.

She says that she wants us to live in a flat where the Mezzanine floor, nine floors below us is occupied by Equity Bank. She alleges that I complain my bank is far from our neighborhood and thus we can’t have a toast to ourselves whenever she makes her unannounced Netanyahu visit.

Susanna demands more outings than necessary. She does not get it that my being an African-African man calls for less outdoor activities.

I can’t and won’t change from our ways.

Her reasonable reason of "us" shifting is that diffusion is the movement of materials from areas of high to low concentration.

When I asked her why? She said so. Susan in turn asked if I was not aware that my wallet is ever severely undernourished. That, she does not remember the last date my leather pouch was off malnutrition. It shocks me a lot, she should be happy at least I have a wallet, some don’t have one yet they are so puppy-happy.

I have always, consistently tried to reason with her, that I am a public accountant whose work is to follow some funny standards developed by a funny board in Europe. That, my problem with money is how to spend it in line with the prudent concept….

Kula kidogokidogo ule siku nyingi.

Suzzie seems to believe in classical economics and more so in the Pareto efficiency. The one that says you cannot make yourself better off without worsening the case of another innocent guy.

This is the reason she wants to worsen my case.

The last time I felt being tricked is when my little brother could not respect my position as the first born son in our nuclear family.

Whenever my mama was making some beef for our supper, she used to allow me taste if the salt was enough. I later came to learn that it was called Iodized Sodium Chloride. It came a time when my brother started extending his hand expecting the favor to accrue to him too.

I felt like Esau.

Anyway, the matter resolved itself as fast as it had come when mama blacklisted any type of meat from our meals. She talked of something like “going green” and to that end she mentioned something like “beans are like meat”. Mamas never go wrong but for this I had sensed danger.

Some funny activist had surfaced in the large village with some not-so-serious gospel. That meat was not healthy for children. It was hard to convince my mama that we were no longer children but boys...boys with a dire need of proteins to grow.

Mama was the High Court and we were the victims. She banned meat. With my two brothers we formed a tribunal; victims and perpetrators.

We lost the suit even after involving our grandma as our lawyer, and going to the Supreme Court, to mzee, the decision of a lower court was confirmed.

They forgot a farmer's career is also his hobby. A jembe is a bar far above the metals in the gym when it comes to keeping fit. We were a farming family.

If you don’t believe me, show me a farmer who has ever been told to exercise in order to cut weight. If you do, I will show you a Rastafarian Chinese Monk.

And now after all these hustles and bustles my other significant three quarter wants us to shift. She should know that it has been a long walk to financial freedom.

Caveat Emptor, I am not financially stable like Nairobi girls want me to be. It keeps me safe.

Well, I am not saying ‘never’ but it will take more than asking for me to shift. Like you know, no man is more intelligent than a woman. Susan defeats me in all aspects. Her feminine quinine is more addictive than fine morphine.
Susan is a jewel,
Sue is a well-bred girl,
She is a pearl from the sea,
Susanna is like Helen,
Helen of Troy,
She makes me defy kings,
I am her Antony,
She is my Cleopatra,
My Santa Susanna.

I have never been treated fairly by the world. Like there was this prefect who always included me on the list of noisemakers all the time; even if I was absent, the guy wrote my name on his list and I was ever number 2 on the damn list...well.... after Maiko. Maiko was the same guy whose legs were harder than my Sandak shoes. But, he was a good boy. I wish I could meet him again.
Life is made of memories.
Life is about stories.
Art is life.
Art is about stories.

On being asked why I was on the list yet absent, he one day said," I am sure wherever he is, Mteule is making noise".

Funny enough when I reported to school the next day, the teacher gave me three strokes for noise making, noise making while I was away at home.

As I remember this I have ordered a full kienyeji chicken at our favorite meeting joint, along Moi Avenue for our monthly get together. Today I am meeting Susan. We need to deliberate on the issue of shifting. We agreed that we shall be meeting for a team building activity for two.

Tonight, on such a night like tonight's I will explain to her why the Titanic had to sink. I just have to let her know that the humming bird can fly backward. I won’t stop at explaining why a plane does not have a reverse gear…If she believes me, I will surprise her and surprise myself too. It is only I who knows what is in the pocket of my Italian leather jacket…