Of Fortunate Accidents.


Here’s something I’m certain my mother wouldn’t be proud of but I can’t keep mum over it any longer. In the past week, I have had some rather meaningful and decent conversations with two complete strangers. One on my walk to work in the morning, (Yes, I have been elevated to walking-working class now and I’m loving it!) and the other on my bus ride home. (Sometimes I pay to be driven home by complete strangers. Boss Lady.) For those of you giving me the odd looks, I’ll have you know that they didn’t hand out any sweets laced with drugs, neither were they psycho, jilted lovers now turned into serial killers hunting for a look-alike of their once one true love. Just two seemingly decent guys (good-looking I should add) looking to strike a conversation and beat the lonely silence we’re often faced with.

My first response to both of them was a forced fake smile in the hope that they’d realize I’m not into it. Besides, they were both quite charming and I felt their efforts deserved a little more than my usual blank look coupled with silence. It would also have been utterly rude to just walk away or change seats. But when they persisted I was forced to ask whether face to face stranger-talk had made a comeback in the 21st century while I was busy reveling in my ‘grand’ achievements.  It could be I’m the only one here who finds it peculiar that someone would master up the courage, walk up to you and join you in minding your business. Well, my two stranger-friends (I have no other term for them really) thought nothing odd of their approach.

“The universe has to be sending me a message,” I thought. Either, one, I have to stop looking dejected and lonely on my way to and from work. Two, my new official dress code is really working for me and therefore I should invest heavily in that sector (That should make a good case for a raise, don’t you think?). Three, I really have no friends because I have a lousy personality and it’s about time that changed. Four, this is how I’m bound to meet my significant other and meeting my two stranger- friends  was a practice run so that I won’t mess up the real deal. Five, serendipity.

It would be somehow naive to assume the two had no ulterior motive in chatting up a girl like me, that they weren’t secretly hoping I’d somehow buy their charm, dish out my number and call whatever happens next magic. Interestingly, neither of them did. It seemed like they both only meant to strike conversation and make my day (which they did). That’s the only reason I’m selling because the alternative would be that my hard-to-get game is so on point that they both couldn’t get to asking for my phone number. Something I wouldn’t be so proud of. I mean, age will eventually catch up and eggs will begin to shrivel.

So then I was left puzzled.  I am known to think too much and far about the most trivial of matters and as such, my grey matter would not let these two incidents pass by just so casually. The things that stood out the most for me were:

  1. That either, all the psychos have been locked up in mental institutions. Two, they’re all out there driving and have no need to walk or ride the bus. (That would really explain the madness on some of our roads) Three, I am yet to meet the perfect psychotic stranger therefore this post is a waste of my time.
  2. That a stranger could possibly be the closest you’ll come to a smile and a hearty laugh. That you never have enough friends in the world. There’s always room for more.
  3. There are still guys out there are full of charm and confidence. Not the macho, chest-thumping, bloated ego type, no. Suave, calm and decent which is attractive. (I think, because it’s rare?)
  4. That offering bottle service to a group of lasses at a night club; double-tapping that photo on Instagram she clearly made an effort to look good in; retweeting her posts however lame and recycled they may be; commenting on any of her photos wherever they may be, isn’t the only way to catch a woman’s attention.
  5. That you don’t have to pay to meet new people. Except if you’re taking a matatu in which case the cost is really negligible unless you’re using a route that bears a “Karibu Nairobi/ Come back soon” sign board. The streets offer you the platform to meet people and it’s absolutely free! The only price you pay is to look approachable. (Yeah, the only absolutely free thing I know is the ride around the sun all year)
  6. That, women out there looking to meet good-looking, charming and decent guys probably have to work on looking good, approachable but somehow still managing to look lonely and dejected. Perhaps the dame in distress look really works. And if you’re open to online dating you shouldn’t find feigning that look too hard to try. We’re all about faking it anyway.

I could go on, but the loyal readers here know I barely make it past 4. I’m looking forward to meeting my two stranger-friends in the coming week. Hopefully, they I won’t be wearing the same outfits they saw me in. And to save face, I promise I won’t go deliberately looking for them. I’ll leave all to chance.

Opinion onion




Two can play this game.

I have always thought of dating as a hunting game where the fittest survive the dry spell. The burden of wooing the ‘coy, hard-to-get’ prey left solely to the hunter. But if the prey is willing…then it’s a feast! This rather ‘utopian’ idea suggests that every player in the game gets what they want, if not what they need,to their satisfaction which is far from reality.

As Eurythmics in the song  sweet dreams, an all-time favourite, put it; everybody, man or woman,while alive is out looking for something. The thing so enthusiastically sort after remains the same. The means of getting it however are what keep changing over time. It is the change in these means that has seen my ‘romantic’ idea of dating as a hunting game that pleases all mutate into that of a con game. Yes. A con game. The hunter has become a con artist.

It is said that the secret of being a top-notch con artist is being able to know what the mark wants, and make him think he’s getting it. Manipulation, if you ask me. Meet the players; men and women. It is an art that has been perfected by both sexes so much that an unsuspecting victim,who perhaps believes in a hunting game that ends on a ‘happily forever after’ note, will get swindled before they realize what hit them.

Men are better at it. They come with fewer emotions attached to them so i suppose their conscience isn’t bothered much. How are they con artists,you ask? Simple. They understand that physical motivation will get them what they want…physical elevation. And that girls just want to have fun.So that tall, dark and not so handsome fella sits at a club, scouts for ‘potentials’ and once the prey has been marked…he leaves his wallet to earn him a score. The conversation will flow as long as the drinks keep coming to the table. He’s has better chances if the same is extended to her friends.Somehow the more a guy spends the more ‘sweet, generous and really nice’  he appears. So he’ll take her out for dinner to a place where she probably can’t pronounce a thing on the menu. Send her airtime and possibly money for her weekly upkeep. Pay for all her expenses; travel, beauty(because beauty doesn’t come cheap) and whatever else she has on her list. Sooner than later, he becomes Mr. Flintstone of Bedrock. Chances are, when the target is hit all his efforts magically disappear, communication is cut and the ‘sweet, generous and really nice’ guy becomes a prick,an ass or a jerk. Am not saying philanthropy and chivalry is dead… just laying somewhere in a coma.

Women. These players make the game even more interesting. Perceived by most as mere victims, they have turned things around to prove that two can play this game. Unlike men who probably only use women for sex, women have expanded the scope of their manipulative art to cover financial, psychological and sexual gain. Again, you ask how? They understand that men. are visual beings who love the sight of ‘pretty and sexy’ things. And for those who defy nature and insist that they are not…they have learned that stroking his ego or playing helpless to make him feel like ‘a knight in shining armour’ will get you what them what they want. All they want is to have fun. And money makes the world go round.

So the P.Y.T sits at the club in her short, ‘sexy’, body hugging dress revealing such a beautiful view that the tall, dark and not so handsome fella cannot resist. With her legs crossed like the lady that she is…she sits patiently, waiting for the tall, dark not so handsome spender to make his way up to her. If he appears to be taking too long..she will soon be on her feet moving her body in ways that only a man defying nature would resist. Before you know it…fun!! But the trick with this so called man-eaters is they don’t stay in one place for too long. They know understand that fun is only short of a few letters to make funeral. so before the end of the night she slips out of the club with her entourage. The guy knows only too well not to try something as stupid as detaining her. After all, buying a few drinks doesn’t mean he owns her.

If she’s good at it…she will leave him her number. She knows they love the thrill of the chase. So she fools him into believing he is on track. She will accept his invites when he asks to take her for dinner in places where she probably can’t pronounce a thing on the menu and possibly feign happiness for a few hours. Laughter,smiles..name it. All this while she knows there’s no way in heaven and hell the guy can make it on the ‘to be considered list’ but the food is good and the experience will make a great story for when she meets her friends. Third date…not even a peck. The clueless guy keeps at it. All he wants is her and if keeping her happy will bring her to his doorstep…what harm would spending a few thousands on her do? So she’ll get him to buy a few niceties(electronics and smartphones included) or pay up for her expenses. When she’s all happy and content or he seems like he’s a tad too ‘clingy’ she spits him out and goes AWOL. “This isn’t working.” The last words he’ll probably ever hear from her.

That, Ladies,gentlemen and others is game well played.

My two cents. 🙂

Single and not ready to mingle?!

Tired of heart breaks and tears?

Sick of love songs?

Want to rid the world of misery?

Join the singles club! It matters not whether you broke a heart or had yours broken. Forget the tissues, the pillow, the punching bag… Come seek solace in the warmest of places at no charge. Join us, Join Happiness!

Now that’s an ad i would love to see get aired. Recently I happened to engage the matter between my ears in some vigorous activity, when it somehow dawned on me…being single is desirable! At least for people in abusive relationships there is no doubt about that. When you think about it, relationships are not all rainbows and butterflies with happiness and smiles tagged on to them. Of course there are happy moments and the not so happy moments.In my opinion though, relationships are all about compromise. To begin with, when a relationship is formed…one soul will exist in two bodies. Besides that, there’s the ‘we’ mentality. You will probably have to seek someone’s opinion before making decisions in your life like moving to a new town, changing the curtains…etc because it will in one way or another affect the other person. There are dreams you will give up, friends you will drop,places you will avoid…however dear they once were to you all in the name of being in a relationship. To me, what all this translates to is compromise! Along the way,somehow, you lose your identities or values even. Single however, there is less to worry about and if any it all about you. I’m not sure what Liz Winston had in mind when she said “I think, therefore I am single” but perhaps she shared my line of thought.

If you must however be in a relationship; learn to love the fool in you,the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries…before you love another.