Roll the dice!

Why do I find it hard to stray from the topic of relationships? Could be because that’s what human beings are all about. Relationships are the foundation of humanity, from the moment we exit the womb we start wailing for attention and love, we start yearning for that unbreakable mother-child bond that eventually shapes our identity hence determining our destiny.

Which quickly brings me to another interesting subject; Our destiny. What exactly is destiny? In my own understanding it’s the word that holds the secret as to whether we will be rich or poor. The one fear that lies latently beneath the surface of our pleasant or sour personalities is how our fortunes will pan out. We all dread the complex puzzle of working towards prosperity and peace of mind, at least I do, even those that were born with silver spoons up their royal a***s hate the uncertainty that comes with every sunrise.

Our fears and insecurities are reflected in the type of relationships we forge. Many believe that our friends become our friends by virtue of the fact that they share our beliefs and interests which is true but I would like to point out that we also share the same fears and insecurities and misgivings about life as our closest friends and lovers.

In class, the reason the dumb kid avoided the genius was not because they had nothing to talk about, am sure they could talk about lots of stuff like food and football and movies and music, correct me if I’m wrong but geniuses have a force arising from the cool headed and tranquil persona that comes with excess grey matter, in most cases this force repels the dumb and mediocre, they’d rather herd (thanks for the term Angela) with someone who shares their dread of test papers, u don’t need a friend who pulls out a John Grisham 2 hours to an exam in Organic chemistry.

I am no expert in love and judging from the way am rambling certainly no expert in psychology as well, so I will speak for myself and myself only.

In the event that I need to marry, u know settle down, make a home and all that crap, I speak this way because marriage calls for a little bit of financial muscle of which I am still in the gym mugging to attain...........where was I Ah! Yes when push comes to shove and I can’t avoid my mothers scathing remarks any longer I most certainly will not go looking for a girl with a BMW and a six bed roomed house.

That said, my fears are more related to how much a kilo of sugar costs as opposed to the price of diesel which is her primary concern and should I even be bold enough to step up to her and ask her for a date I am sure I might succeed given my wit and charm (not exaggerating here) and I might even be able to foot the bill for dinner at Nawab but with every passing day I will be dreading the moment the words “Insufficient Balance” scream back at me from the ATM screen.

Since I am not the kind who dreams of a Kinigeria story - rich girl falls for broke ass nigger and more importantly not the kind who prefers to wear the skirts in the marriage – I will be on the look out for that cute secretary from Sadolin who usually boards taxis from Hotloaf.

Which reminds me, time to grab a bite, Lucy escort me to Hotloaf.

Do you have her in red with long hair and round eyes...and Oh! yes the manual please.

Getting into a relationship could be likened to finalizing a purchase at the mall. Some times you get stuck with what u obviously don’t need and sometimes u get a brilliant bargain.

The overzealous sales attendant may badger you into buying something at a price you obviously deem to be over the top, but there u are in an upscale establishment with all these classy people checking out at the counter and rather than risk looking like a pauper u give in to a sales pitch and pull out your wallet.

All love relationships have the person that really need the coupling to work and the other party who couldn’t care less if it failed. All relationships have the giver and the taker. The taker is clearly in the relationship for all the wrong reasons and doesn’t really have any emotions vested in it. They don’t care about their partners feelings and make a pretence at being concerned and loving in much the same way you look at the sandwich maker with a seemingly interested expression as the sales attendant points out its finer points, all this time all u are thinking “if u only knew u …” and then u throw another glance towards the out of your league Sony home theatre DVD system read ‘the girl/guy u cant get’

The giver is all too eager to please they can’t believe they have found love at last and would do any thing to hold onto the dream; (including giving u a free egg beater with the sandwich maker in addition to a 5% discount. ) They pinch themselves everyday hoping they don’t wake up. They call all the time, buy expensive gifts and use words like baby and sweetheart like they are going out of fashion. In return they get cancelled appointments, cheap gifts and unreturned calls.

To borrow a phrase " if the preferable isn't available the available becomes preferable" the takers rationalize this decision with arguments like ‘bambi he’s a good man’ or ‘she takes good care of me’ and other phrases that really mean ‘I’d rather be with someone else’

GIVER? TAKER? Which one are you?

We are experiencing technical diffi.....<*"? any inconvinien.....are.....

When the radio went silent last week for three days it was a welcome break from the daily tasks that accompany broadcasting. The techies said they were shifting the transmitter from Nsambya to some other place with a higher altitude called Bandwe.

We all expected the signal to die on Tuesday 18th at around lunchtime so everyone came in to work knowing they would make a pretence of going through their daily routine while keeping an ear out for constant static that would signify "radio off upgrade in progress"

It was a few minutes to 1:00pm and still the signal was loud and clear, so i lethargically gathered what little news i had (little because none of the reporters had not bothered to file any stories coz well u know the radio was about to die and ressurect on the third day) and headed to the studio when the static came.

It's off! is it, Is it off? someone asked while making an attempt to douse his voice with some concern and disappointment at the break in transmission.

You would be amazed at the rate with which the office emptied, youd think we were having a fire alarm drill. Looks like people had made plans, i mean who wouldn't jump at the opportunity.

I spent those three days bored out of my skin coz unlike most fellas i hadn't made any plans, i assumed.. well i would do what i normally do on weekends. What i forgot is that i usually have only Sundays to myself since i work Saturdays as well, so after watching Max Payne and Quantum of solace(didn't finish Quantum) which were both total disappointments i slept through the first day(hoping I'd wake up with Daniel Craig dead and a new bond in his place, the bugger sucks)

On day 2 i headed to the city for lunch, my place is in Kyengera and apart from fries i have never enjoyed a meal at any of the restaurants there. and since i have come to love the food in our cafeteria at work does it come as any surprise that i joined the newspaper guys for lunch?
After which i headed to the empty radio office and ended up staying for the better part of the day playing Scrabble on my computer.

Aside from the Shanita debacle i dont remember what happened on day 3.

My annual leave comes in a weeks time so if this is how i will spend 2 weeks of no work, May the good lord have mercy.

M****Y

Ever since i could tie my own shoe laces and button up my own shirt, i have not heard one good thing said about Mondays-- that first day of the week or is it the second, where nothing seems to go your way and you just cant seem to shake of the grogginess from a long weekend of fun and frolic.

In school mondays were as dreaded as an unexpected dormitory inspection, or maybe a surprise inspection was more welcome compared to a monday morning mathematics triple lesson of trig, matrices or logarithims --to draw a parallel Mondays come with all the things we loathe like unironed clothes, empty wallets and staff meetings.

So my understanding is our apathy towards this particular day of the week stems not from the fact that we cant get things to work out but instead we just hate having to try.

If we hate monday's then we hate our jobs, if we hate mondays then we despise having to go through the mundane monotonous tasks all over again.

Ronnie who works for a radio station just cant stand the M word, he'd rather recite 6000 hail marys (no offence Catholic folks besides am one too) than come to work on M****y to yup the same ol' "welcome to drivetime my name is................." and play the same old songs punctuated by the same old jingles. You see the reason he loses his show prep on M****ys has nothing to do with a weekend hangover, it has everything to do with an overwhelming reluctance to leave home for yet another week of a boring undertaking.

This also expalains why Lucy had to lose her contacts just before the M****y news bulletin on the big network.

As kids school was more attractive on M****ys only after exams or if the school auditorium was opening for the school play.

So please lets stop Bitchin' about M****y.

Moral: Love your boss's Job

Payback

................ I continued to roll over in bed well knowing no one would hear my incessant pleas for mercy that were quietly playing over and over again in my head.

As i lay there curled up in the fetal position i could hear my tormentor circling, the sound of his footsteps sending a sharp stinging pain through my guts as any moment now he would punish me again with one cruel lash of his whip.

I needed desperately to look at this devil who unleashed such grief and misery but every time i peered through my sweat blurred vision he would slither away and disappear as if evaporated.

At least he had left me one mercy -- water! I reached out my hand to where i knew the glass of water would be- on the table next to the bedside lamp. as my fingers coiled around the cold glass i liked my lips in anticipation of the cool welcome drops that would soon wet my parched throat albeit temporarily.

Even as i lifted the glass towards my lips i sensed something amiss the odorless life saving liquid had turned into a stale foul smelling broth--- in horror i realised that i had mistakenly picked up a beer bottle-- a bottle that contained the remains of the deadly brew that had led to my current state of helplessness, the satanic liquor that had left me indisposed and immobile was all i could smell as I shrank away in disgust. --this ungodly drink was the reason i was being punished-- i was finally paying my dues for yesternights transgressions, all the partying and dancing had come with a price.

With my head throbbing and my pulse racing i frantically reached for the water half expecting my tormentor to smash it from my grasp.----- i was certain he was real, lying there in the dark corners of my bedroom, lurking in the shadows as he waited for the opportune moment to send another jolt of pain through my bowels.-- i was certain he was real and not just an alcohol induced hallucination.

As i lay there writhing in agony i made a promise to myself, the same promise i had made countless times before- that i would never touch another bottle of beer as long as i breathed.

Tormentor: yaw right!

We all knew Barack would make it, well at least i knew he would, the signs were all there-what with crashing markets, a disastrous mis-managed war on terror and not to mention the most unpopular sitting head of state since Joseph and Mary sped off with baby Jesus in the general direction of Africa.

I was one of the cynics who never even believed he would make it past the primaries (was rootin' fer the chick Clinton, ya dig) but all prior lack of confidence and belief in a 'Kenyan' to rule the worlds' largest democracy dissipated the moment i closely compared him to his presumed opponent- the aging war veteran was never going to close the gap in the poll ratings-- compared to the Mac our inept, inexperienced Kenyan was as cool as a cucumber, he was the very definition of statesmanship.

I- used to my cynicsm convinced myself that the only reason i admired him was because he was a democrat and that what choice did i have but to tow the party line, even Clinton had swallowed humble pie u see. but deep down i knew that i admired the resonance of his baritone as he gave speech after winning performance speech, i knew that i admired his unrattled demeanor debate after debate and that his choice of rhetoric left me agape.

I was now a fervent convert who hung onto his every word- okay what i am trying to say is that I like the fella too but that not withstanding i would like someone to explain the excessive, over the top, going out of our way, insane, wild and goobleygook jubilation and excitement that met his landslide win.

People breaking down and all just because a black has made it to the highest office in the universe is simply a showy parade of black power and pride, hope u listening jesse and yes you too you overly paid self assured talkshow hostess.

The blacks have come a long way since the civil rights skirmishes of the 60s but surely Obama's win comes as no surprise- who is there to say that minority races haven't been given the freedom to rise and excel and serve in the same capacity as their white peers- despite far right extremist attempts to quell black progress they have shown the ability and skill to conquer insurmountable odds.

So please enough with the hulabaloo already! Get back to work.