Tales From Naivasha

Someday I’m gonna find it
Wish I knew what I was looking for
Inside the disarray (inside the disarray)
I woke up this morning
Don’t know where I’m going
But it’s alright
I wouldn’t have it any other way

These lyrics could very well described my state on Friday morning as I packed a bag in readiness to attend the Rift Valley festival. I was arriving at Naivasha the following day at around 2 p.m. and headed straight to Fisherman’s camp.

You can see the lake through the trees

The stage was already set for the artists to perform later in the night.

The Stage

Kwani? (kwani.org) too were here and I was persuaded to buy two books: by Chimamanda Adichi, hailed as the 21st century Chinua Achebe daughter. (Half of a Yellow Sun, and Purple Hibiscus)

The Book Exhibition!

In fact, it was three books. The third, which I’ve finished reading, is by a Kenya author, Martin Njaga. The Brethren of Ngondu. It’s a small book published by Storymoja and it had me laughing at the beginning and crying at the end. It was that involving.

The Brethren of Njogu

I watched one artist perform….he sounded really good. I have to get his CD somehow. He is called Winyo.

Winyo singing a Love Song

I would have stayed and watched the rest of the performances, but in the process of looking for supper, I found myself at on the road to Nakuru.

The Highway to Naks Is beautiful at night

And at Taidy’s in Nakuru, they have these really cool notices at the door

On the Ladies’ Door
At the Gent’s Door

I was back in Naivasha the following day. And I was on they way on the way to Nairobi soon after.I met one other artist Masese, who calls himself grandmasterobokano

Grand Master Obokano

Only to be welcomed back by a pick-pocketer who did away with my wallet and IDs. I spent the whole of Monday trying to replace them. The conductor had apparently seen me being robbed so he gave my hysterical self a lift home. A bad ending to an otherwise almost perfect weekend.


Post Coital Depression

P what again? Yeah, I googled it. There is something like Post Coital Depression. Sounds like one of those wazungu diseases: ADD, DFD etc. Don’t ask what I was doing when I stumbled on it.

I would have thought the aftermath should be the best time but read this:

This is actually so common that it might be considered ‘normal’, although it appears to be more common in males than females. The French have a term for it: “Le Petit Mal” which means literally ‘Little Death’ and probably refers to the sensation that some males experience of being completely withdrawn and disinterested in almost everything – though this should not last longer than a few minutes.

Whenever you have sexual intercourse, at the end of the act you are supposed to have a develop a feeling of depression ranging from mild to intense. The technical termed coined for this is “Post Coital Depression”.

What could possibly cause this?

I don’t want to go into the chemical reaction and hormones explanation, it sounded boring. Even I didn’t finish reading it, and I read everything. Well, apart from the chemical explanation of PCD.

“the act of sex seems to bring two bodies together and link them and how duality becomes unity and togetherness and how, once the act of copulation is finished, the unity is lost, the links broken, leaving you feeling lonely, more lonelier than you were before you had commenced the act. It is like a dark night appearing darker still after a lightning flash.”

Intelligence may play a part too..

several highly intelligent people (Robert Silverberg, for one) seem to suffer from PCD

PCD could also be caused by a subconscious feeling of guilt.The men who were involved in extra-marital sex or the men who felt they were not sexually satisfying their partner have a tendency towards PCD.

So what then is post coital depression? Wages of sin?

Wait a minute, I thought the wages of sin is death?

The Kottet Idea

I met 5 of my former school mates, five years later, on the same day. But not at the same time. Was this a coincidence or what?

I met the first one as I walked aimlessly in town, having passed by the same place twice. It’s a long story…the walking-but-not-seeing-where am headed. She was with her mum, so apart from the quick hug and what are you up to? Are you on FB and when are you graduating, we did not talk much. At least she didn’t get the chance to say, “Wow, you’ve grown!” Oh, the agony of having been small in my earlier years.

I wasn’t so lucky. Of all the many routes in town leading to a place, I chose this one. and who do I meet?
Yep, those three were some of my closest friends. We were in the same class. One was my deskmate. This time they were like, “deskie you’ve grown big. And you have hair!” I wasn’t totally hairless back then, I just kept it short. They are now in the same institute of higher learning. So I gave them the update on my life, I don’t think I gave them the chance to talk.

My classmates in high school

My classmates in high school

I told them about this idea we’ve been having with some of my other former classmates. We want to revive our alumni. We want to start a scholarship fund for those girls who are called to form one but never report due to lack of fees. We also want to start a mentorship programme. We are ambitious. I don’t want this to be just an idea, I’ve had ideas for long. Am going to put it into action, which is why today I’ve started this blog. It’s going to explain everything about it.

Anyway, having talked and laughed and caught up on our lives, and those of our former schoolmates (who has finished school, who has kids, who’s married…you’d be surprised), we parted ways. I went to the stage to pick a matatu home, and when I had waited long enough with none in sight, I went to another stage and took the first matatu I could find. I sat at the back, away from disturbance I hoped, so I could sketch my designs in peace. Just so you know, am working on designing a top that will take Kenya by the storm and a dress that will be worn by the next Oscar winner. Never mind I can’t draw.

Who comes to sit next to me? It’s Songbird, one of the best singers in high school. She must have won numerous awards at the national music festival. I ask her if she is still singing. I would have expected her to appear in one of the many talent searches, damn, I forgot to ask her if she auditioned for TPF or Idols. Trust me, she can hit the highest notes. She tells me she sings in the church choir. Anyway, we are doing similar courses, and we even share a unit and the lecturer though we are in different universities. What a small world. I told her about the idea, and how everyone seems in support of it.

Am thinking this was a sign. I have to put the idea into action. If you feel me, you’ll visit this blog and pass the word.


Did something go wrong? No. did something change..definitely. I have lost something, but I have gained too. I have spent days trying to write this post. I have started at least 7 drafts, all of which I have discarded. So I have finally decided that that story will write itself when the time comes.

Meanwhile, I have remembered a promise I made..(this was as I was going through my old drafts, searching for inspiration) “. For the next few weeks, stories on this blog may or may not have much to do with the campus life, but the campus girl out there in the industry will not let you down. There is a lot out there.”

There is a lot out here. I wrote about my fellow interns, they found out (am not so anonymous after all, okay, blame it on my inability to keep secrets), they got mad and they are not speaking to me. That’s okay because am not speaking to them either. But I did apologize. Before going mute on them. I realize I shouldn’t be writing about workmates so much, this could get me in trouble. No more dissing them. Hope I can keep my promise.

This internship has been a learning experience. Like duh, of course. I still have about two weeks to go. I have made so many resolutions: to learn this and that when I go back to school, to wake up early etc. I start most tasks with enthusiasm, but the fire dies somewhere along the way. I guess it’s called being human.

Have you noticed I’ve rambled a lot? This post is one of the most random ever. It has something to do with that story that refuses to be told, I think I have had a writer’s block the whole week, so instead I redeemed myself with some photographs, and rather than admit I have been unable to write, I decided to do a random post. Let’s hope I have a juicy story for you next week.
(Staind ~ Could it be)

Highway Romance

Shot 1

Shot 2


Wacky Wednesday

The day started great. Even a bad day starts well. I got to work in time, and met Moneyman at the stairs, waiting and watching as I walked across the expansive lobby that is the reception. He said when I reached the stairs:

“I like the way you walk. So confident.” I smiled and confidently walked up the stairs to the office. No sooner had I settled than the guys in the department across call me. Their printer is acting up.

Turns out NA was the last one to twinkle with it. For those not in the know, NA is the one to take me to lunch-that’s-now-a-dinner-maybe-breakfast-too. I give him a call. One of the worst calls I’ve made in recent times.

“Hi, Mr NA. Uliharibu printer yao.”

“What? What kind of language is that?” Mr. NA barks into the phone.

“Savvy, can you speak the correct language. We don’t use such words in the office. Go there, diagnose the problem, then call me back. Withdraw those words…”

And a long lecture along those lines. I was livid. This is much more than just the words, “uliharibu printer yao.”

So I found out what the problem was and called him back, this time using crisp, official language. I just wondered what was up. It’s him who brought about this nonofficial nonsense in the first place.

Anyway, he came back to the office, shamelessly eyeing me from here to Timbuktu, and then proceeded to give me a lecture on solving user problems.

Am thinking this is a power issue. He wants to make it clear who is in charge. If it’s games, we’ll play. And oh, am the one in charge. He’s the hungry one, and am the one being chased. I think I hold the Ace. I can scarcely believe am writing this.

My immediate boss is in the funeral committee of this guy who was battered to death by his wife. Irrelevant, I know. Anyway, I was taking his evening shift at work meaning I’d leave at 9pm. He’d then give me a lift home after he was through with his meeting.

As I wait for him at the security desk at the reception, the security officer on duty is one L who has been asking me to buy him lunch. I promise I’ll buy him some day. He’s busy now answering phone calls, who knew there were so many night callers?

“Place of Work, hello. May I help you?”

He also made lots of personal calls, talking for long, saying stuff like:

“You wouldn’t believe who am feeding fruits right now…” he said as he extended a plateful of assorted fruits my way.

My boss came and we left, but only managed to move for about 10 minutes before we got into the major(est) traffic jam ever! For 2 and a half hours, we were stationary for 30 min, and mobile for 30 seconds. Guys got out of their cars, and were walking up and down the road. If there was booze, we might have had a street party. This guy ahead of us goes to his booth and takes out a bottle of something fishy, and while he’s sipping, the matatu conductors get out and start making jokes about how the food will be cold by the time we got home.

Boss’ car has a TV so I watch Boston Legal. I tweet on my phone until my credit is over, and we are still not moving. AFC Leopards have just won their match against current title holder Sofapaka. I get home at midnight just in time to catch the ending of the Real Madrid Vs Lyon match and some cold supper.

Am glad the day is over. And I just became an AFC Leopards fan. Even bad days have good endings.


I am not the world’s fittest person. I used to jog once in a while, back when I was in school…anyway, where I work, it has complete sports facilities. Name them, we got them. From monopoly, chess, to table tennis, squash, to gym and aerobics, to swimming pool, sauna, steam bath and jacuzzi. Never mind the latter two don’t work. Only thing missing is massage and personal arrangements can surely be made for that. 🙂

I love swimming. This one Saturday, I was determined to swim no matter what. What this time happened to be rain..it was drizzling when I changed and dived into the pool. Not dived per se, more like jumped. It did not deter me from doing a few laps (you know, taking plenty of rests in between.) I then braced myself for the jump from the diving tower…some 3m, 5m and 8m high. The highest I could jump from was 5m. Let alone dive. But that is a story for another day.

After the pool, and since it was cold, I headed for the sauna. I met E taking a break on one of the sunbeds in the waiting room. I was still dripping wet and was thirsty, so I lay back to chill out. She made a call:

“Buy half a Kg of meat…no, wait 3/4 Kg. And some tomatoes.”

Then she looked at me smiled, and remembered something else.

“Also buy onions…and green pepper. Some coriander too..”

I was just finishing my glass of water when she called again.

“And cook ugali..for 5 people. you can cook ugali, right? Am coming…saa hizi tu.”

Then she turned to me:
“Aki sauna inachokesha.” I nodded. Then I sauntered to the sauna and lay back on the hot wooden er..lying-places. She came in and peeled away all the lesos, and stark naked gave me her life story.

I know you are supposed to dress lightly for the sauna, but stark naked! I’ve never forgotten that life story. Everytime we meet, her naked body flashes before my eyes, her life story runs through my head again, all this before we say hi and part ways.

I haven’t been back to the sauna since.