I love to read articles about understanding men, mostly from the home page on MSN. Every time I discover some delicious new fact about our Martians, I try it out on my better half. His response is always something like, ‘The trouble with women is that they take all their man-talk from other women.’

I always want to yell,  ‘Men don’t talk about their feelings, so we have to discover them through other women … or gay friends!’ And somehow I don’t think man advice from a gay pal counts for much, because their thought process is painfully close to mine.

Unless of course he’s a guy-gay, in which case he probably knows nothing about women.

When the movie first came out in 2003, I swore I wouldn’t watch it. My swearing didn’t have any particular motive. It wasn’t about being macho and resisting chick flicks, even though I had just watched that traumatising movie with Renée Zellwegger. I don’t remember what it’s called, but it had a lot of pink, and one scene had a simulated split screen lap dance dry humping thing … which some people found funny, but I found incredibly sad.

The real reason I avoided 10 days is because from what I could see in the preview, I was definitely a 10 days kind of girl, and nobody needs that kind of affirmation. Read the rest of this entry →

Its one of those Wednesdays.

Shirley is busy packing her numerous belongings into her hand bag while bidding her colleagues good evening. She often thinks of quitting this Bank Teller job, but some days stand out more than most. Like today for instance. It takes 4 days for a cheque to mature! Simple and Clear. So why would a grown up man, bring his ugly face to the bank two days later!? As if that’s not enough, claim that the bank is too slow, and try to debate bank policy with her, a mere bank Teller!?

Anyway, thank God the day is over. Hopefully Becky will have some juicy stories to cheer her up with when they meet up in 15 minutes. “Oops!” she exclaims, glancing at her watch. She’s already late. She bends down to trace her high heels. She finds one, squeezes her right foot into it while scanning her booth for the other. It’s nowhere to be found, again! She knows who the culprit is.

She limps into James’s booth and there it is. “Not funny Jaymo!” She hisses, while painfully putting it on. Seriously, is her left foot bigger than her right? She wonders for the hundredth time. No way, it must be these damn shoes. Why can’t Jaymo just grow a pair and ask her out instead of playing these stupid games? Read the rest of this entry →

Christine was…well…different. As I discovered later, she wasn’t really in what you would consider the top cream of her class – if by class you meant from an academic perspective. She derived her reputation from ‘leading men astray’ as my priest would put it. I found her particularly skinny but she spared no efforts at squeezing her body into the skimpiest of school skirts, often to the administration’s chagrin.

I briskly followed Jack who appeared to be in a peculiar hurry to get things over with. Our short trip led us to a darker section of the block corridor where Christine’s slim image was partially hidden from the teacher on duty’s roving eye. Jack made quick introductions and even before I acknowledged Christine’s presence, he was gone.

So there I stood, heart pounding, feet barely supporting my lanky frame and on the verge of a massive sweating attack. Christine, in stark contrast, seemed perfectly composed, and at ease with this whole eerie situation.

“So, you are the famous Lawrence, huh?” she asked, eying me head to toe as if evaluating a new army recruit.

“Uhm, I’m not r-r-really famous as such” I replied, still wondering why I was doing this.

“Oooh, how humble of you. That’s so sweet!” and finally she offered an inviting smile.

This awkward exchange continued for a while. Christine was no novice at all, and in no time had managed to make me feel totally at home in that dark corner.

Our little introductory meeting was not to last long though before we heard the TOD’s (Teacher on Duty) lazy footsteps approaching from the only exit out of that hideout. In a quick swift move that still baffles me to date, Christine got hold of my arm, pulled me close to her and gestured me to keep it still and quiet. Read the rest of this entry →

She sat at the far end of the corner feeling so down and wondering how come Jake had become so distant with her. They had gone out and I mean she had done everything by the book but still it was not working out. Her calculations in her head were so many that she decided it was better to let it go.

However what we don’t realize is that just because a man has refused to commit to us (women in general) is that he is not interested or assume that he is afraid of commitment. Of course understanding the male species is not an expertise or a craft to be learned; somehow we say use your gut feeling and sometimes it may just work. Yeah they give mixed signals but the truth of the matter is that each man has a relationship timeline thus the term we use that so many men are so unavailable,  that’s a whole load of crap.

This may look selfish in some way but my assumption is that not all men want a serious relationship until he sorts out his “issues” and tries to re-align his life and know whether he is in for a serious committed relationship or not. I know you are wondering whether as a woman you should wait for him to collect himself together, and some are wondering “is it all about him”, or “do I have to wait around for him to get his act together so that he may have a serious relationship with me?” Absolutely not. Read the rest of this entry →

Dear Diary,

What came first? The chicken or the egg? OK, more specifically who started this losing war? The women who demanded too much from men, thus turning them into chivalry-deprived, insensitive, sex-crazed empty souled creatures (deep breath) OR the men who, due to their above-named issues turned women into gold-digging, self respect-lacking, easily sexed, easily pleased, empty souled creatures? Does it matter? Dear Diary, who cares?????

Listen, I suppose the point I’m trying to make it is this: I feel like lots of people are in the biggest race of their lives, trying to impress people they don’t know with money they don’t have and things they don’t need. In addition, these same blind-leading-the-blind people are also in a great mysterious quest to prove something to someone: that they matter! The sad thing is, these people often end up with pie in the face because as it turns out:

1. Of course they matter. They never had to prove it anyway because it’s a given; an obvious fact. Of course they matter, money or no money. Sex or no sex. Relationship or no relationship. No matter what they think they need to matter, they DO matter so what’s with the rat race to prove the obvious? Duh! Read the rest of this entry →

Dear Diary,

Here I am sitting in the darkness. I have to say, it’s pretty nice trying to play scrabble with some really cool people, squinting in the candle light to see the letters on the old tiles. Actually, they’re playing and I’m chilling. Kenyan style. In the dark

Seriously though, how was your week? Mine was interesting, as usual. Here’s the thing on my mind though: A non-Kenyan male friend recently shared with me that the word on the street is…are you ready? “Kenyan girls are cheap.” Whaaaa???!!!?!?!? I’ve gotta say I got a bit defensive about that, for all of 5 seconds. He was kind enough to let me in on why Kenyan girls have such a nasty reputation. According to him, if they (the girls/females) think that you might have money and/or you’re a foreigner, then they’re willing to give up what they think the man wants. OUCH! Since that very painful conversation, I’ve tried to look at things from the male perspective and I have to admit that it’s not looking good. Ladies, is this true?!?! Read the rest of this entry →

If you had the option of choosing what precise moment you prefer to die, what would your choice be? Most of us would probably say just after going for confession. Let’s face it; none of us likes the idea of paying for our sins, right? Sins by definition are everything your mama and your pastor or priest have told you not to do, but which for some obscure reason appear infinitely more appealing than the good deeds. But what to do? It is what it is, right? Ok, enough of that.

One of the Sins I was repeatedly admonished against as I grew up was ‘Girls’. I’m serious. My list of the top ten sins to avoid had ‘Girls’ leading at first position by a colossal margin. Precisely put, I remember such assertions as ‘Achana na hawa wasichana’, ‘Wasichana watakuharibia maisha’, and my favourite one, frantically delivered just before I left for campus, ‘Ukiwaona, toka mbio!’.

It came as a complete surprise to me when my Paps raised this issue for the first time, during one of our scant-but-still-scary father-son bonding sessions. Turns out ‘Girls’ wasn’t a sin; and that’s how ‘Girls’ lost the singles quotes. “Girls are good”, he said. “But not now”, he concluded with finality. According to Paps, I had to finish my schooling first before I earned any rights to Girls. Girls would distract me from achieving his dream of fathering the first ‘A’ material in our village. Nothing was going to come between me and his social bragging rights, nothing!!

In the face of this maze of declarations regarding this mysterious opposite sex, who would blame me for being increasingly curious? Thus I began staring. Read the rest of this entry →

I have endeavored to keep account mainly about child upbringing and single parenthood to date. However, today I will digress and talk about men and the current lack of chivalry among them.

So much is being said about us women having become so easy to get, loose, immoral etc. However, for every action, there is a reaction. Men today have no qualms about lamenting on and on about how women have worn trousers and taken up their roles.

Harken men! This is a sign that you have so failed to do your bit, that woman- the ever efficient multitasking person- has decided to also do your share of the work; in order to keep the race moving at the rate it should. Surely I imagine, if we women did not take up some of our male roles, earning, child upbringing, decision making, paid manual labor etc, our species would be underdeveloped and maybe under fear of being overtaken by aliens or wild animals. Just my two cents.

Traditionally, men were supposed to hunt, gather food, protect, instruct and guide the woman in family matters. Tradition flew out the window, when men replaced brains with brawn. Read the rest of this entry →

Dear Diary,

What a rough, weird and interesting week! I’ll skip the rough and interesting and go right to the weird. I met a guy. Nothing weird about that, right? So how come in our first conversation he asked for my number so that he can “flash me” so I can call him back? This was right after he implied that I was fat (gasp!) Still need to be convinced diary? How about this? By the next conversation – and by next I mean second – he referred to me as his girlfriend and insisted on it! Ohhhh dear diary but there’s more. By our third conversation he insisted on referring to me as his wife! WHAAAAAA??? Is he crazy?

Ok, I know what you’re thinking: he was probably joking…nothing serious…meant no harm…don’t take these things too seriously…blah blah blah. I admit that maybe I was getting abit too serious about it but still; don’t you think it’s a tad much to be talking like that to someone he barely knows? We haven’t even been on a first date for goodness sakes! Well, I knew it’d take some convincing for you to see this my way so here’s the last straw for me.

During our last conversation, he actually said – OUT LOUD – “oohhhh, you sound horny!” Dear diary, are your eyes bulging out of their sockets yet? Did you just throw up a little in your mouth? Feel any disgust? Well, I did! That was the last straw, especially after he repeated himself twice. Dear Diary, I’m done with this weirdo. Count me out! Next! Read the rest of this entry →

The season of giving is finally here! Well, at least for me. A time to sow what I shall hopefully reap before Christmas comes around. Boy, do I dread Valentine’s Day.

I’m not much of a genius when it comes to relationships and romance. This probably explains why I have never in my dating life, celebrated two consecutive Valentines with the same love bird. Of course when my friends inquire about this statistic, I proudly declare that there are too many bird species in the wild for me to hold on to one for too long. I then boastfully add that if not for the stringent rules governing the Guinness book of World Records, I should have already broken some record related to the most number of women dated in a year. Then I order another round of drinks to that effect. Read the rest of this entry →