Hadithi, hadithi..........

What is a week without a wonderful Acolyte tale of love and passion?
There was this American girl (let's call her Jenny), who went to Kenya last year to do volunteer work. After working and enjoying Kenya for one year, she decided to invite her father to come over and revel in the beauty of Kenya. Her father flew in, they spent time together travelling and exploring the various sites. During one of his jaunts her father (let's call him Mr Smith), befriended a young girl called Wanja on the bus back to the city. Whenever his daughter was too busy with her volunteer work to spend time with him, Wanja would show Mr Smith around town town. Over time they ended up spending alot of time together and due to the gratitude Mr Smith felt towards Wanja's benevolence he would take her out once in a while and buy her a small gift here and there. The two of them became close to the point of Wanja inviting Mr Smith to her house and cooking him different indigenous Kenyan dishes.

With all the time the two of them were spending together Mr Smith began to compare Wanja to his wife of 20 years, and compared to Wanja's beautiful ebony skin, deep brown eyes, perky breasts and luscious hips Mrs Smith's with her pasty white skin, flabby bosom and poor cooking were found extremely wanting. From sampling Kenyan dinner dishes like mukimu and githeri Mr Smith graduated to breakfast dishes like njahis and uji among others.

Jenny hadn't seen her father in a month and when she got in touch with him, he told her that he was on an expedition to Tanzania but little did she know that love was being brewed in an African pot (so sue me! I have always wanted to use that phrase!). The only thing that put a damper on Mr Smith's fun was the fact that he had only budgeted to stay in Kenya for a month and not three months and neither had he budgeted paying Wanja's rent, utilities, buying her gifts, paying her brother's school fees among other expenses. He moved out of his hotel room and moved into Wanja's 2 bed room extension in South C. It was not as sumptious and the Landmark but since he was with his beloved he didn't mind one bit.

At this same time Mrs Smith got in touch with her daughter and expressed her concern and shock about Mr Smith not coming back Stateside or keeping in touch after the first month he went to Africa only to call her and say that he had found someone else and was going to be starting a new life. Jenny was frantic and went into denial when she head that, that was not the same father she knew and loved. She rushed to the Landmark hotel to look for her dad only to be told that he had left with his girlfriend. When she heard the word "girlfriend" Jenny's blood turned cold. She had stopped texting and calling her dad on his Kenyan cell phone number a few weeks back when he told her he was leaving, conveniently it seemed that his "departure" was the same time she had to travel to Northern Kenya to do some volunteer work, so she couldn't see him off but that was all old news now. The phone rang for what seemed to be hours and went straight to voice mail where Jenny left her dad a message imploring him to call her and expressing how worried she was.

Meanwhile one week passed and Mr Smith's paradise began to sour as he opened a Pandora's box by telling Wanja that he was running out of money and wanted to try and find a job so they could stay together and start a new life. Wanja's sunny demeanour turned stormy almost overnight. She appeared less and less enamoured with him, his physical advances were nipped in the bud before they began and she didn't even want to hear his stories anymore. After one week of being ignored he decided to take his luggage and go see Jenny. After being man handled in the local matatus since he was too broke to take a taxi, he finally found himself at Jenny's apartment. Jenny let him and he could see the mixture of betrayal, pity, relief and anger on her face. He narrated his situation, of course manipulating it in a way to seem like he was seduced by Wanja and how broke he was. Since he still had his ticket, Wanja had almost talked him into selling it but he had procrastinated so long that she stopped bothering him about it, so what he needed was enough money for the local flight within the States to get back home. Jenny gave him the extra money that he needed for his flight and took him to the airport. A few days later she called to talk to her heartbroken yet angry mother who was still debating whether to take her grovelling husband back or not after his dalliances with what she called his nubian whores and how the word Kenya just burns a hole in her stomach; at that point in time Jenny didn't have the guts to tell her mother that she was dating a wonderful Kenyan man.
A true story as narrated to a close source of The Acolyte.

In other news, BET decided they were going to make this show based on the premise of this website that takes a tongue in cheek look at the failings of black people as a community in America. Of course the PC crowd weren't having that and amidst protests sponsors have began to pull out. It's said that the show may be showing this (not safe for work!) clip, if so it's going to be like a car crash, you shouldn't be looking but you can't help yourself. But for real, I hope that show doesn't see the light of day, black people have enough to worry about without more one sided depraved potrayals.

I think this is the lowest level of depravity one can get to. I'm not justifying hacking up of adults but when you start killing kids, I have no pity when the police shoot to kill and not to maim members of that gang.

Other than that I have a friend who is moving into her first apartment in a week or two. Any good gift ideas that won't break the bank? Ideas would be most welcome! I was reading The pulse online and this is one of their few articles that hits the nail on the head! Whatever anyone tells you, the States is a very harsh market for musicians be they African, Asian or European. It's a very very competitive market even for Americans themselves and few suceed, I'm not saying it can't be done but if you are going to take the plunge; plan long and plan hard.

I think I have said a bit more than I usually do, nice weekend people!
Ps: Dear psycho one and psycho two, this isn't the place for your tirades that run several pages long. Keep it in the nut house; Thanks you!

Blogging Is Like.........

Blogging is alot like sex in many ways

- Some people like to make the fact that they do it public while some others do it undercover and deny the fact that we do it all.
-Some people like to do it by themselves while others like to do it as a group.
- Some people can do it more than once a day while others do it once a week.
- The first time is never the same for everyone.
- You can do it for money or just for the love of it.
- Some people take forever to get it done while some people can do it in minutes
- You can teach yourself or get someone to teach you.
- We all have our own way of doing it.
- Some people think they are really good at it when they really suck at it.
- Some people look really skilled when you look at their blogs but when you really sink your teeth into it they are all talk and no action/content.
- Some people pretend to be gentlemen on their blogs when they are really sick freaks in real life.
- You can go to jail for doing it. It is banned in some countries too!
- Some people do it for fun while others see it as their calling in life.

I could go on and on, but I'll let ya'll add some other analogies in the comments section. I have been reflecting lately and I have realised that a blog is like a sexual partner (yes being on the b-train kinda shifted my perspective), you see when you start blogging it is an exciting process. You can't keep your hands of your blog, you want to feel it all over and discover new things, make it look better, read better and make it an enjoyable experience for all who visit. But over time much like a sexual partner, the faults you overlooked due to your earlier euphoria become glaringly apparent, other blogs begin to look/read better than yours, you begin to wonder how another blog hosting service would feel, you so want to leave but you have this regular blog that you have become so accustomed to that you don't know how other blogs/ blog hosts/ blog communities will treat you. You want to go but you also want to stay because better the devil you know than the angel you don't.

Ps: I'm not contemplating stopping blogging even though I'm on semi-hiatus; I'm just considering leaving blogger..........