Fear is B**CH

You know what I hate most, that moment you decide you are happy single and the universe is like ‘Aha, lets fudge with this b**ch now!’

For a long time, I had put the notion of love, companionship, the romp in the sack, in a box and buried it in the forest where I would one day go to spend the rest of my days with my dog and a chicken I would call Jimmy ๐Ÿ˜€

I was ready to put my flower out of commission and live the nun like life that would be quiet and contained. To some extent, I think I even craved it with the same intensity I once did with love.

Then the universe decided otherwise.


1aย :ย an unpleasant often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger
bย (1)ย :ย an instance of this emotionย 
(2)ย :ย a state marked by this emotion
2:ย anxious concernย :ย solicitude
3:ย profound reverence and awe especially toward God
4:ย reason for alarmย :ย danger
I find when you get too comfortable with life, fear kicks in.
It could be a fear that pops up to stop you from pursing your dreams because you have a family or it could be the fear that you won’t be the writer you were meant to be.
It could be that nagging feeling telling you something is amiss or a voice telling you they are all the same just keep it pushing.
Fear can be a fickle b**ch, but a b**ch I seem to fudge with.
I had played her sweet game many a time but unlike before where I saw it as a warning to run in the opposite direction, to settle, I take it now as a sign to jump in without any inhibitions.
So here we are now, me, done with love, and the universe saying ‘no you are not’ and while in friendships it is customary to be kind and let things slide, this time round I am grabbing the b**ch by her imaginary balls and replacing her in that box that lays where I may one day never call home, how about you?

Religion is a B**CH

Oh no she didn’t, oh yes i did!! ๐Ÿ˜€

You know what I hate, when religious saved folk come to me and are like:

“Oh my GOD, you finally want to know the Lord, I am so happy for you (Ah thanks for the assumption but I was already there a while back)…. All you have to do is read the bible and talk to him and you will hear him. Its soooooooo amazing.”

So I go do all these things for the umpteenth time and when I’m like ‘hey G.O.D’ the peep upstairs just stays silence and I’m like, I was told this would work, hello? But still I hear nothing.

So I go back to these people and I say to them, so I did what you said and nothing happened and they proceed to tell me, you must be patient, God speaks in many ways.

Why is it, for those saved individuals God talks to them and even takes them to heaven and what not but little old me, I guess the heathen of all heathens, I have to witness this God in other ways?

Why is it I don’t get to see this God ?

That’s all am asking

Seems a bit rude to play peek a boo with select people does it not? What makes them special and the rest of us not?

That’s what I wonder every now and then. Then I remember I don’t play the religious game ๐Ÿ˜€

But the B**ch of the fact remains I still keep searching ………..

The White Factor

I had heard of the series ‘The Crown’ sometime back and with the high ratings and talk about town that followed after, I finally gave in this year to continue it after starting the first episode a while back.

So there I was on episode 2 right, 1 minute in ‘The future Queen’ says:

“bla bla bla….little more than 50 years ago, Nairobi was a savage place….”

Lets stop there.

A savage place, eh?

I like how history seems to favor white people.

I mean, they were the smart ones and we were the savages shatting where we eat, right? They created this and that but always in the back ground there seemed to be nigga assistant who didn’t know any better huh?

I like how religion favors the whites too. I mean the savior of all sins, the son to the Most High, Hesus, has the same holy hue. I like it alot.

Imagine a world where this was never introduced into our culture, I wonder if we would think differently of ourselves? But coming back to reality….

The camera zooms to ‘Nairobi folk’ and I stop again.


With all the time that has passed by, you would think white people (and yes, do not worry, I know not all are bad so calm your extremities down) would at least know to manufacture culture better, seeing they stole most of it.

To the creators of ‘The Crown’…not that you care who I am but ahhhhh no one in Nairobi looks like that! Well, unless they came from South Africa on holiday but i digress!The balls on some people….

Secondly with how y’all are so fond of Maasais and seem to believe that they are the only tribe we have(and I guess Kalenjins cause of the running *rolls eyes*), you would think that the costumes would be better, no? I’m sure most of those that visit on holiday have the ‘get up’ somewhere, so you could just borrow that shat ๐Ÿ˜€ but i digress again!

The worst part of it all is not that white people continue to do this, but its that African people tolerate it.

I read an article that said it was understandable as to why the scene’s were shot in SA. Okay, fine. I’m actually glad we have strict laws on this and I suggest we add this little clause that says ‘if you cannot portray us well then do not do it at all!’…. but at least they will always have SA to fall back on.

Anyway, the article then proceeded to blow poppy cock up white peoples asses praising how well the scenes were executed bla bla bla fart.

We (yes I too sometimes fall into this bracket so relax, we all ain’t perfect) , as African people are so colonized in the mind that we always seem to give white people a pass and take whatever they spew as truth, come rain come nonsense.

Example: There was this guy. Now this guy thought he knew everything.

I would tell this guy stuff, and most of the stuff came from the philosophy of African minds. I shared with him my two cents and he would dismiss what I would say with some obscure fact that I doubt he understood.

Now this is all fine and dandy when its banter, but my problem was that he would often come to me a few days or weeks later with the same information I shared with him but now he took it as truth because it came from a white person.

The kicker was when I told him something vital one day, he came with some video a few days later saying how I should watch it, the message is bla bla bla fart.

So I sat my ass down, put the video on and two things came to mind:

  • This b**ch is saying the same shat I told this nigga a few days ago


  • Ohhhhhhhhhh its cause she white *rolls eyes*

Once the video ended he smiled with a level of satisfaction that made it all the sweeter to extinguish that flame.

When did it all get so fudged up?

In the end, I deleted the series and the friend. I chose instead to make some tea because it’s never that serious.

The white factor will always be a b**ch but like my b**ch we will learn to live with it and love it a bit more everyday.




There are ladies than there is me

Females, oh how I observe them wandering the Nairobi streets. All dolled up, freshly cleaned and put together. Then I catch a glimpse of myself as I pass a shop window and I stop in my tracks.

When I was younger I always wanted to be like those women, sophisticated, put together and all that jazz, but at first, I was a tomboy. Mostly cause I was chubby like the sun is round but let’s not go there ๐Ÿ˜€

Then, all of a sudden, my tits popped out (far to early for me to care about), I accidentally shat myself to later find out to my dismay that it was the pms monster and that is when it was declared that I was a woman. (*rolls eyes)

One, or rather, I was never prepared to be one of a those you know.. I still wanted to play with the boys, roll around in the mud but when sweet all womanhood shows up and grown ups draw those imaginary lines in your childlike mind, you got to go with the rules that be.

So you grow, you ‘style up’ and you mature into this beautiful woman ripe for the taking…. well that was never me.

I think I stopped ageing at like twenty.

It was like at some point I just said F*** it, I’m going to be forever young (I’d like to take this moment to thank melanin and my parents for such great genes ๐Ÿ˜€ ) .

At this point it seemed my internal clock stopped but I was still plagued with this image of what a woman should look and act like.

So I observed what other women (who seemed popular with the opposite sex ) were doing, namely:

  • I straightened my hair
  • Started wearing make up
  • Going to do my nails (though I will be honest, I have only done this two times in my life, I’m thrify AF so [ do my own gad damn nails like a pro and able bodied person)
  • I started frequenting the mating grounds with friends to display the goodies God gave me


I did it all and by the age of 24 I gave up.

I remember I had one particular friend at the time that I would call the black MerIlyn Monroe. She was the quintessential ‘woman’ to me.

She was proper, she was soft spoken, gasped if you said one curse word, she was so put together that I was in awe and tried to emulate her, but you can’t tame a wild animal like I ๐Ÿ˜€

Funny enough she had a twin who was the complete opposite of her but her twin was still more put together then I ever was. Now that’s life, eh!

So when the good o gal, 24, rolled around, I removed myself from the hold of society and recoiled into me. This was done in an effort to truly find out who I was without the assumptions, judgments, like & dislikes of others, and what I found …….still confuses me ๐Ÿ˜€

I am put together but not in the sense of ‘I have my life all planned out’ I still leave that to God/Ra/She/Universe. I mean, I am not married let alone in a relationship, I do not dress all prim and proper and matter of fact I am known to have that ‘homeless’ (hippie) look with a hint ofย  ‘child-like’ tendencies. My hair rarely sees a comb let alone a straightener and goes from long to short in a span of minutes.

I am rough around the edges, Lord knows I am.

For example, unlike ladies who would excuse themselves to go fart in a far away land far from their mate or be all shocked when a guy farts in front of them, I see it as a challenge to see who has the best farts in town ๐Ÿ˜€

When the man releases his fart (which i seem to find is a thing guys feel very comfortable doing in front of me; even giving it to me as a present :D) I prepare my ass and release mine as well and we laugh and laugh about it then after a few months, I am single and they are dating Americas next top model ๐Ÿ˜€ but I digress ๐Ÿ˜€ ๐Ÿ˜€

I do not hold my tongue for I don’t see why we cannot all be honest, I do not let things slide, I do not let the man have control over me (But this can be discussed in the right situations ๐Ÿ˜‰ ๐Ÿ˜€ Please don’t judge me).

I speak my mind, I speak my truth but most of all I expect the same from man himself.

I am very many things as you can see but this is not Tinder so I don’t need to list them all down so you swipe right for me ๐Ÿ˜€

All I’m saying is that as I walk down the street and I catch a glimpse of me, I stop, smile and remember how banging of a b**ch I am cause there is them, and there is ME!


Dating is a B**CH

You know what, i absolutely hate dating, it is the b**ch of all b**ches and here is why.

You meet this being that knows nothing about you but after a few minutes of them passing judgments (often then not in their heads) , they proceed to tell you what is good for you by saying something like, i am bad for you, or i know what you need and it is not me, yet you just met them a minute ago!

I find it funny how a complete stranger can claim to know whats. If that would be the case then one is made to that the stranger lived that said life waaaaaayyyyy before the individual who is living that life ever knew it existed.

To assume that one would know whats good for the other without spending sufficient time with the person is complete poppy cock. They say it takes close to 5 years for an individual to develop repeated tendencies but it also takes the same amount of time for said individual to evolve to their next higher self, so how would one draw judgments on something that is not constant?

We often put assumptions on people thinking that we are protecting them, more so men then women, but that is my opinion. This can be clearly seen during the dating period. Think of all the excuses you have been given to stop the process. I can name a few:

  • I’ll ruin you
  • I don’t think itsย  good idea for this to happen ,i’m no good
  • Trust me I know what’s best
  • You deserve better than me
  • I didn’t want to break you…………………I didn’t want to break you? What sort of forkery is that!

I hate when men assume I am a weak little flower that will die if they speak the truth to me. I never understood that thought process to be honest and to justify lying with it in an effort to make me take on the guilt is even worse.

By the way what is this I’m no good for you thing? Did guys send a text to each other saying we shall now fool them with this fokery lol ๐Ÿ˜€ I don’t get it. Again women aren’t as weak as men may think but also why do men think they are the only ones that do ‘bad’ things?

And the way they say bad you would think they’ve robbed a bank or something only to find that one drunken night they pissed on the side of the road ๐Ÿ˜€ calm your balls down is what I say.

Women do ‘bad’ things, we just know how to put our crazy in a cute little box, with aย  deep red bow (color choice varies from crazy to crazy ๐Ÿ˜€ ) tucked away in the back of our closets only to come out when the crazy needs to be released, or I’m the only free sprinted female around?

Anyway, yeah i don’t value dating anymore. It would seem everyone has created these fables of who a person is before they even meet them and that, to me, defeats the whole point of dating.

…but then again I still love my b**ch so may one day i’ll give it a shot.

Menstruation is a B**CH

Okay calm down oh ye who will go hard on me and tell me that menstruation is a lovely part of being a woman bla bla bla …i know that already but come on, lets be open about it, it can be a B**ch!

I sometimes fail to understand how for the first few weeks in a month i am Queen Sheeba , the mysterious wondorous wonder woman the world has ever seen then out of nowhere, and yes i mean nowhere all hell breaks lose.

For me it all start with the why am i alone syndrome where the world seems to be aganist me and the sight of a fly dying tears me to pieces. At this point i am looking for affection and attention which then leads me to men who, quiet frankly, i probably shouldnt give the time of day. All because of my menstruation goggles.

The worst thing is when you go off the handle with vulnerability and psychotic i love you i hate you emotions you can see it all happening as it happens. For me its like an out of body experience where I am shouting STOP but my evil twin just goes in for the kill and by the time i get back to my subconscious self, God, the blood has been spilt and the tendrils are scattered for all to see.

Granted at that point i should probably be remorseful but when you come to think of it with all the things guys put us through,i think they deserve those few days of being put in check.

Why might you ask? well *evil smile* that’s a subject for another day.

As i was saying, menstruation is a b**ch. If its not the off the handle emotions, talk about bloating 101. Now for a guy bloating is just another beer belch away but for a woman , OMG, its like the end of times.

You go from your clothes fitting you like a glove to looking like you are about to pop out at the seams. Its uncomfortable not to mention irritating but i will say there is an upside to all of this.

*Please note this is a TMI moment but it must be shared :D*

The best part about it, its a release like no other.

To put it in terms you will understand, imagine you’re getting all bloated and you desperately need to fart lol, that release you get from doing the business, its something like that but 10x better.

You end up coming out of it feeling refreshed, revitalized and for some skinner (less bloated) than when you went in ๐Ÿ˜€

But that’s just me lol before and after that i can say i love it like i love my main b**ch, all day every day ๐Ÿ˜€ but when winter comes, hibernation is my best.



Openness is a B**CH

You ever find yourself, when the silence is deafening and even though you have great peace, sometimes deep within, it would feel okay if someone gave you the level of love, respect, openness as you would them?


I understand in this sordid life of ours to expect such from anyone is a dream but when did we as society, as ‘intelligent beings’, when did we become so self involved.

I hear a lot, that if you just keep putting yourself out there as pure love you will get it returned to you, but i think this was a farce created by those beings who wanted to have love, respect, and the like given to them unconditionally without them having to deplete themselves.

As a child i was always a social free spirit but life taught me that such things only leave you open to hurt and as much as i’d love to be that again, for me, there is truly no-one who i could trust like that anymore.

Sad, maybe but i can live with being alone more then i can live with the uncertainty that there are some humans who are worth it.

But then again maybe i am the one who was put here too soon or is it too late……the silence can be deafening, but what do i know lol……. so i talk to God only to find even they have checked out my motel so what now…..