not yet punditik

For every side hus tle you know, I have seen it, plus the other one too. They sell fruit salad, mangoes, rice, ndegus, peanuts and chicken.  Big fat chickens.  Traditional chickens.  No modern chicken for the healthy you.  They can do the market for you.  Just send them the shopping list with quantities.  If you are not sure about the quantities, tell them how much you want to spend, the size of the household and they will get you the right quantities to last a suitable duration. They run 24 hour kiosks, mpesa and airtime, recycled clothes from England, Germany or Canada, or new trashy ones from the East that never seem to fit on part of the body or the other.  They have kaimati and makate mayai available at night prices.  They have alcohol and condoms.  They make sure they are always prepared for you. They sell jersey tops, official shirts, waterfall jerseys, cardigans, skirts, dresses, skirt suit, trouser suit, pashminas and...

I have within the last two days come to realise that the image I have of myself is not the image the world has of me.  I see myself as slender, beautiful, sleek and chic.  I think I am intelligent.  Correct that – way above average intelligence.  I am brilliant, genius in fact.  I am I repeat - brilliant, plus industrious, generous and humourous.  I think of myself as able to take criticism and correction – though this is not often required seeing that I am brilliant.  I also see myself as open to ideas and change. On a scale of one to ten, I have obviously given myself a ten (who wouldn’t?) on everything.   Apparently the world wouldn’t.  The world does not give me a ten!  The world does not think of me, the same way I think of me.  What?  Am I surprised?  Of course I am.  Should I not be?  Why would anyone not think of me, the same way that I think of myself? And if they tell me that I am no...

I am sitting at the bar, waiting for a friend who told me she was “at the roundabout” an hour ago.  Nothing much is happening.  Two men sitting to my left.  They are eating crisps dipped in avocadoes smashed with tomatoes and chilies.  Talking about internet marketing.  They each have Coronas in front of them.  I do not understand that beer.  On my right, a fifty-something old man, showing the pictures on his phone to his, female “working class” twenty-something year old date.  I wonder about them for a bit. Wonder what kind of pictures.  Nothing else concrete.  Just wondering without actually thinking.  Thoughts that never quite form in the head kind of wondering. Across the room – two white men sitting face to face across a small low table.  One pudgy.  The other sleek.  They take turns to go to the bar to buy themselves one beer at a time.  Strange.  It’s not a self service bar.  Maybe...

https://www.vectorstock.com I work as a domestic for my Madam.  I look after Madam’s big family and her big house.  I tend to Madams big garden and her big cars.  For Madam – everything must be big.  She herself is big.  She is also big on ambition – both professionally and domestically.  Which is where I come in. Today I had a review with my Madam.  And she reminded me of her expectations and requirements regarding my performance.  Some requirements were new, some she was just recapping.  In my own words and in no particular order let me tell you what my Madam expects.    My Madam requires;  I am all-knowing.  I must know everything that happened during my watch - where the bumps on the children came from and where her yellow, blue and green scarf is.  She wore it yesterday and left it in the laundry basket. I am omnipotent - all powerful, invincible and able to do what is inhuman...