Tip goddamit!

I have heard it said that a man of great character is not judged by how he treats his peers but by how he treats those who serve him.

Everyday as you go around there are of course people who serve you, that conductor who collects fare in the loud matatu, the nice lady at breakfast, that tall janitor who cleans your office floor, your housemaid if you have any, the watchman who watches over your building as you sleep…the list of people who serve you is long and it gets longer the wealthier you are.

While some of these people may be arrogant, unhelpful and sometimes downright rude, there are those that do their service to you and humanity diligently and with a smile. There are those that in giving their service to you will do it so happily (be it genuine or faked) that it will Leave you with a Smile as well and make your day.

And so to you I ask WHY YOU NO TIP THEM? 

Tipping is not very Kenyan, here we believe that we should not pay anyone extra for doing their job, besides, what money will we have left to bribe policemen and government officials?  Okay, maybe that was below the belt but for a country that bribes so much, I fail to see why so many of us are so against tipping. 

And don’t you even try denying it in your mind. My friends, some who are reading this, cant even leave 20 shilling change with the waitress at the club, the fact that they’ve spent thousands there not withstanding. Yes you, you know yourself…especially you whose name starts with Z, yes you who sent me a mother’s day text message yesterday, yes you who…okay, I’ll stop now.

I have recently taken up tipping those who serve me well and gladly not because I have tones of money but because that 100 shilling note might not mean much to you but might mean the world to someone else. And if they are doing their job well, why not appreciate it and not with just a thank you but with something that will help the other person and encourage them to be even nicer to other people. A good tip is a kind reward for a job well done.

There is no doubt that servers give good service based on what they perceive to be a carrot on the end of a stick. This means that if those who serve you know you tip well, chances of getting better service incredibly increase.

Other than the above, there are a lot of reasons to tip, in most parts of the world it is dictated by etiquette that you tip about 10-20 % of the cost of the service you are receiving depending on which part of the world you are in, it is expected of you.

Sometimes when a motorbike guy carries me home from school and riddles me with stories I tip more because I have been entertained...

I know we have all had our fair share of that waitress who thinks you are piece of shit and will take your order while looking out the window or filling  her nails. And god forbids you should ask why your pilau is taking so long or complain that the tea is too watery. The look and tongue lashing you get will lead you to quickly evaluate your life (kujifikiria kimaisha) to ensure that you have it right and that you are indeed the customer and not the server.

As far as these kinds are concerned, by all means do not leave a single shilling in change and if you can, do make away without paying the bill so that she is later charged for your meal because she deserves it and you are freaking Robin Hood (winning!). I get everyone has bad days; however, this should never be taken out on the customer.

But when people are good to you, why not be good to them? This past Friday. Me and Deksta, a friend and a business partner were having a couple of beers at the prestige plaza food court after work and were served by the most delightful gentleman. The gentleman, a waiter  at one of the food stands there, was at least 50 years hold, neatly dressed in a clean black shirt and pants. His shoes just like his attitude were well polished.

Not minding that we were both more than half his age, he served us our drinks with a wide smile, courtesy and kindness. He enquired about the temperature and constantly passed by politely asking if we needed refills, he poured our glasses and when my phone ran out of charge, he took it to his counter instead of the public charging system bringing it back promptly when I needed it.

At one point, he got my drink wrong but he had been so nice to us that it felt wrong to have him take it back. When you do encounter people like this, leave them a token of appreciation.

This post is for that nice man at prestige plaza.

The Beggar in a Red Expensive Shirt

A few years back, I lived with a cousin who everyday from work, would always bring home a handkerchief or two. Every day without fail he would always have new handkerchiefs. Everybody just thought he liked them and of course no one minded it because we did not have to buy any ourselves.

The habit got me curious though, and I asked him why he bought so many damn handkerchiefs.

What he told me, is something that has not escaped my mind to this day. He explained that on the road from his office to where he would have lunch, there was always a smartly dressed blind man who sold handkerchiefs for a living. The blind man would be at his spot every day whether it was sunny or rainy. He used the money he made from the sale of his handkerchiefs to cater for his living and provide for his family.

My cousin went on to explain that almost everybody he knew from his office and the neighboring offices would make a point to pass there and promote the blind man. He further explained that they did not do it out of pity or because they needed all those handkerchiefs but because they felt they needed to support the man’s course. Because unlike most disabled people, he just didn’t wake up every morning to go beg, he instead tried to do something little to fend for himself and provide for his family. My cousin also noted that he seemed to make quite a good amount of money from it.

 Most cities in the world and the third world more so, are riddled with beggars. In Nairobi although the situation is getting better, there are beggars at almost every corner. It would be absolutely absurd to dismiss these people because some of them are genuinely unable to fend for themselves due to one reason or the other. Most of them live miserably having to beg for food and money to meet very basic needs.  I feel it would be unfair to generally judge them or term them lazy or unproductive and therefore I shall not.

I however have a bone to pick with one specific beggar. There is a man who I have spotted at the corner right opposite Imenti house on Moi Avenue. Now this gentleman is crippled and has to use a wheelchair. From what I have observed he is in his 20’s and cannot use his legs from the knees down. I can tell this because although his upper body is well built and quite able, he kneels at his begging spot.

Martina Navratilova says that Disability is a matter of perception. If you can do just one thing well, you're needed by someone.  I would think the man who is quite able from knee upwards would have some form of work, hawking even. Anyway, that is not my point.

Whenever I pass by there I always find the man, knelt on a mat or a pair of shoes. His wheelchair is safely and conveniently parked closely behind him. He always leans on a parking pole comfortably with one of his hands outstretched for your coin and his other hand on his mobile phone. More often than not you will find him chatting away with a friend.

My problem with this nice gentleman is not his age, his mat, his wheelchair, his disability or even his friend. My problem with him is his dressing.

Yes his dressing. The clothes he wears.

I am not a fashion man myself and I presume I have less than a good taste in clothes. I do not try to keep up with trends either, but I believe I follow them through observation and reading. For more than three years now, I have observed this gentleman and I can say without a single doubt that this man has kept up and still is keeping up with every passing fashion trend.

I would go on to describe these trends and name them but I might not be very well informed and might run the risk of exposing my ignorance. So I’ll say that any trend that has come up in the last three years, this man has kept up with it. Am not talking about cheap clothes that people buy in second hand stalls, no, am talking expensive shirts, t shirts, jeans  and jackets. The kind you buy at exhibition stalls for several thousands.

Now of course I am not trying to say that disabled people should not be fashion conscious on the contrary I think everybody should dress well. So here is my problem with the gentleman; WHY WOULD ANYONE WHO CAN AFFORD AN EXPENSIVE SHIRT,  BEG?

Myself, am the simple kind and I don’t necessarily spend much on clothes so you can guess that the man out dresses me by far. Anyone who can buy an expensive knock-off Gucci shirt does not need my 20 shillings surely. Most working Kenyans do not buy these expensive clothes not because they do not have the money but because they spend the money on food accommodation and anything else that will ensure they do not have to beg.

Beggars are people too, and do not get me wrong am not saying they should not dress well, but here is my question…why should I give you my hard earned money, to go buy clothes that I cannot afford to wear myself?

It is my thinking that people who beg are genuinely in need of basic human needs…food and shelter at best. Last I checked expensive knock-off clothes are not part of these basic human needs. I think it is wrong for this man and others like him to take money given to them out of kindness and human compassion and spend it on such things. If anything, I think this specific gentleman is capable of finding some form of work and making enough to even buy original Gucci shirts.

So I, good sir will not contribute my 20 shillings to your wardrobe money. 20 shillings in fact, is enough to buy a handkerchief from a certain blind man in industrial area.

Also next time you want to keep up with the latest male trends, do pass by Moi Avenue house opposite imenti house at the corner where 17b matatus pick and say halo to the beggar with a red knock-off Gucci shirt.

  

"I have not been handicapped by my condition. I am physically challenged and differently able." - Janet Barnes

Halo Baby

Chemistry between me and you

Has been on since day one

You understood my every mood

When I was into Hurricane Chris

And other not very intelligent music

When I was trying to find myself

Trying to find out what my deal was

You walked with me when I was meant to walk alone

When I had nothing to say

You sat there patiently with me

Sabuni wangu wa moyo

When the whole world seemed against me

You were there, black and not giving a damn

When I discovered long walks

And evening bike rides

And India Arie and Tracy Chapman and mellow music

When I dreamt of owning a computer

When I was in love

And when my heart broke

When I thought of moving out

And rode out to that escarpment and decided on it

When they turned me down and said no

When I rose up to it and got strength

When I slept there on the floor

You speaking to me on the SP 525’s

When they placed a gun on my head

And I needed to cry.

On long journeys and finding myself

When lights were out

When I dint feel like speaking to any one

When I wanted to walk alone

But with you by my side

When I needed clearance of mind

When I needed silence and sweet melodies

For you I got three guys to spend several nights

In a police cell

And I would do it all over again

Because I love you more

I love you more than

 I could love anything

Nashukuru kwa hayo kidogo angalau

Kwa sababu kuna wengi hawana

Naenda home kwa Yule huinipa kile  nimekosa

When I make wrong decisions

When I fail people I care about

You don’t judge or look at me wrong

You just do as I say

Na hiyo ndio sababu ya wengine wote kukosa maana

I take you everywhere I go

Ndio moja kati yamengi nafurahia kukuhusu

Natarajia makubwa mpaka wengine waniona zuzu

You are the reason nime-hold on to life

Ndio maana sijaanguka

Wanasongamana, wengine wanabonga sana

Wanatupa tu masaa juu milele hatutaachana

And I might go touch, go more tech

But it’s never a replacement for you

Coz wewe ni sabuni wangu wa moyo na hautawai iisha

We ni dame poa sana  tena sana

We ndio sababu ya wengine wote kukosa maana

Nina pendo kubwa aniingoja mahali

Mrembo GB nane

Siwezi kusahau juu bado hujanichosha

Naja kwako unipe nilichokosa

Halo baby…

For LUCY, my ipod nano

Inspired by Chiwawa’s  “hey baby”

Letter to 13 year old me

Dear 13 year old Eugene,

Hi there youngin, seeing that it’s Friday morning and a holiday you are probably doing chores as those you live with laugh and watch TV. I know as you go about them you are day dreaming of when you live in your own space with no rules where you can wallow all day in your filth drinking all the milk in the world with no one breathing down your back.

You won’t get there immediately but hey, just a couple of months more and you’ll be in boarding school and while it won’t be the best escape, there you’ll exercise your mind and chores will be evenly divided. Finishing KCPE won’t be as cool as it’s hyped to be. I know you don’t have as many friends in your primary as you would want to be and I know your reasons fro keeping to yourself. Just hold on to your guns you don’t have to be nice to them, you’ll never encounter most of them again.

Your KCPE week will be hell on earth and nothing I can say can possibly prepare you for the shit that’s coming your fucking way from you know who (oh also as much as you disagree with it you’ll pick up cursing). But not to worry too much, the exam will be a walkover, you’ll leave soon after and there’ll be a trip to the coast that will just blow you mind.

Unfortunately you’ll come right back to reality and you won’t enjoy the first few weeks of 2005 and then high school will come.

High school will be good to you; not in the orthodox way but it will change your self esteem and perception of yourself greatly. You have already developed sarcasm from all those books you’ve been reading and it will get you into a lot of trouble with bullies.

You’ll try to fit in but not for long, you’ll get into drama club and it’s the best thing that’ll happen to you. You’ll get a major role in form one, make tones of friends, hit on girls, go for endless trips and while you won’t be popular per say, people will have a sense of respect for you. You’ll go into intensive novel reading and your grades will suffer for it.

At start of form three you’ll have a total fall out with Uncle C and the upper hill admin concerning a mobile phone, extended midterm and some dirty texts. You’ll run away to Mombasa for a couple of days and come back a changed person. It will be a shitty experience but it will change your life forever. You will find a new you. Ma will start paying more attention to you. Uncle Eddy and his wife will take you in and be very kind to you.

Uncle Eddy will give you a chance to find a school for yourself, his wife will treat you like her own child, you’ll speak to ma often and you’ll be happy. You’ll find a somewhat absurd mixed high school where you will be king. You’ll take up stylish dressing, hair relaxing, nice colognes and expensive shoes. You’ll be a hit with the ladies. You’ll get the prettiest girls in the class and it will get you in trouble but Uncle Eddy will be graceful about it.

Unfortunately Uncle Eddy will be bed-ridden for a while and then succumb to diabetes. You’ll be with him, taking care of him with aunty most of the way and it will destroy you. But you have good friends and a nice chick. They’ll be there for you and it will be easier. Ma will fly in and you’ll spend some good time with her shopping for nice things and catching up.

You’ll finish high school top of your class and school and get into a computer college and then to university, and guess what…you are nothing close to being a lawyer. You’ll take up journalism after a stint in several local productions. Cool eh?

You first semester in university will be shit. You’ll fall out with family, you’ll get fired from your ka-job, you’ll be dead broke and the girl you love will dump you and hurt you so bad you’ll not leave the house for days and it’ll hurt for months.

You’ll overcome it and things will look up from then, you’ll meet beautiful people in high school and college and have the greatest friends on earth who’ll be there for you through a lot. Also you’ll do business with some of them so you won’t be so broke.

So you see 13 year old Eugene things won’t turn out so bad. For now just sit tight and take their shit. You’ll turn out happier and bigger than them, you know who. There’s that nice Swahili lady Sophia from downstairs who always treats you kind and encourages you when things are too hard. She is unwell and won’t be around for much longer. Remember to thank her every chance you have.

I know you are very low on hope right now but there is a nice gentleman from second floor who will walk you to school one of this mornings. He’s seen your suffering. He’ll share his umbrella and his story. His words will be the pillar of your strength for many years after. He will rekindle your faith in humanity.

Keep reading those books you are reading and keep dreaming. Don’t worry about not having any friends now; you’ll do fine without them and you’ll be quite popular with the ladies in a few years thanks to those books you’re reading now.

Don’t worry about the chores either because you know what, I, the 21 year old you is writing this naked in bed, in my own fairly big house, I have several big flat screen TV’s and video games, computers and other gadgets, I haven’t done my own laundry in ages, I have money in the bank and best of all not a soul on earth to tell me what to do or when to do it. Hell, I stay out all night lots of nights.

You are kind and respectful to people, keep it that way. Over the years you will loose faith in a lot of things you believe in right now. A lot of people you think are with you will let you down. People you trust will turn against you when you least expect it but don’t let that put you down and always learn to rise from it. You’ve never been in a physical fight and do not ever let yourself get into one because you are better than that and also because you are not so strong physically and you ass will be whooped. There’ll be moments, but always walk away.

You are developing a liking for music and very soon you will get an iPod that will walk with you through everything for many years to come. Be patient and don’t ever let despair and anger ever get the best of you. You are also very naïve and believe in the good in people. If you can don’t give that ungrateful bastard from high school your guitar. He’ll insult you when you ask for it and you’ll never get it back.

Remember the fall out with Uncle C that I mentioned earlier? Don’t worry about it…it will get better and you will come to have a very good relationship with him based on mutual respect and trust. Try hard not to let him down when you can help it.

Okay get back to your chores now before you get in trouble. Remember, it’s alright to keep to yourself and with a bit of resilience you’ll overcome anything. Treat Tracy well because she has no fault in what you are going through.

I cannot emphasize enough the need for you to be kind to people and to not ever let your frustrations or anger be let out on anyone who does not deserve it. Intellect and clear thinking is better than any physical confrontation. Do not allow yourself to follow the crowd, walk your own path instead no matter how lonesome.

Tell Ma everyday how much you love her and do not ever for a minute take her struggle and those who care about you for granted. Do your best to make them proud always.

Take the shit now but everything will be okay just hold on in there. Soon you’ll be me; awesome and free and with all the milk you want. Just hold on in there and wipe that frown from your face. When you are done with your chores pick up your novel and your drawing book and just hold on in there. Better days ahead.

Oh and Eugene, how do you feel about film making, tattoos, dreadlocks and vodka?

Oh…Okay…never mind.

From me

21 year old Eugene

(Also, the call you Nude-man now…don’t ask)

No Way To Honor Michuki

Recently, John Michuki passed away and Kenyans as we are known to do appreciated him greatly after his demise. This is the man who brought sanity to our public transport system.

It was my hope and thinking that in his memory, people would do their part to uphold the traffic rules. (Note, I said people not Matatu drivers). Perhaps the simplest and most obvious way of doing this would be to put on the seatbelt that Michuki went out of his way to have installed in those god forsaken matatus.

Now I know what you are thinking; within Nairobi, matatus mostly have faulty or extremely filthy seatbelts that might tarnish that nice item of clothing from toy market that you are wearing.

But what is the excuse in long distance travelling?

I travelled to Nakuru a few days ago and happened to take a shuttle. The seating on these things is pretty comfortable, the cars are clean and well maintained and the seatbelts as far as I have observed are almost always intact and clean. As such, I see no excuse for anyone to wear none.

A certain police woman at Naivasha was of the same thinking as me. She spotted our matatu, stopped it and had to walk some distance to get to us. As mostly expected with Kenyan traffic police I thought she would go beating around the bush hoping for a bribe. But not this good lady. She had only one issue; the driver was not wearing his seatbelt. She wondered what sort of example he was setting for the passengers.

The driver in his kiss ass demeanor hurriedly put on the seatbelt and the policewoman waved us away. So there I was nodding my head, happy that there was still some good left in the world and making sure that my belt was tight on too. Barely were we out of the officer’s sight than the driver took off his belt grinning like a fool.

As if this was not enough, the man seated next to him and he went on to discuss how the police loved nagging people instead of letting them travel in peace. I could not believe what I was hearing.

I have thought of the situation at length and I think the biggest problem pertaining this is that most of us know nothing about how that little strip of cloth works and how it protects us.

Putting on a seatbelt while travelling dramatically increases your chances of surviving an accident. To understand how the seatbelt works, you first have to understand inertia.

Inertia is an object’s tendency to keep moving until something else works against the motion. Inertia is every objects resistance to changing its speed and direction of travel.

For instance if a car is speeding at a speed of 50 kilometers per hour, inertia wants to keep it going at the same speed in the same direction. Anything that is in the car including the driver and passengers has its own inertia which is separate from the car’s inertia. So the car accelerates riders to its speed. 

If unfortunately the car should crash into a wall at the same speed of 50 kilometers an hour, your inertia and that of the car would evidently be independent of each other. The force of the wall would bring the car to a halt but your speed would remain the same.

Without the seatbelt, the driver would either slam into the steering wheel at 50 kilometers an hour or go flying through the windshield at the same speed. No matter what happens in a crash, something would have to exert force on you to slow you down.

A seatbelt applies the stopping force to more durable parts of the body reducing the chances of serious damage to your body. Put simply, the belt stops you from crashing at 50 kilometers an hour into the windscreen, the steering wheel and the wall

Now the nakuru shuttle driver might never read this but you have…BELT UP! 

This is not a poem

This is not a poem

If this was a poem,

I would extensively describe

The walks I take every Sunday

But this is not a poem

If this was a poem,

I would talk about that old

That old and creaky street light I pass

That goes on and off every few minutes

I would in detail paint a picture

Of that beautiful jacaranda tree

That has one large branch

Hanging right below the old street light

If this was a poem, I would write about

How beautifully and lazily the branch sways

When the light comes on, and a little wind blows,

How It creates the most splendid shadow images

 On the dirt ground below the street light

Oh how I would write about

That rhythmic sway of the shadows

The perfectly orchestral silent music it produces

Its most beautifully choreographed dance on the dirt ground

Oh if only this was a poem

Bachelor Chronicles 1; Please Please Do My Dishes

Just to clear things up before I get judged for this, I am not a male chauvinist. I believe that men should help in the house chores, sweeping, cleaning, and changing napkins and such and such.

Okay, that out of the way, whenever I have a lady at my house I always try and get them to do the dishes for me. (Take me away feminists)

 I hate…no despise…no LOATHE doing dishes.  Asked to choose between a 6 hour intelligence class by Mike Sonko and washing two plates I would go for the class without a second thought.

In few instances when I have a lady friend in the house (very few instances if my mum ever reads this). I will go out of my way to get them to the kitchen with the hope that they will see the mess, sympathize with me and do me the great favor. It does not always work but when it does I love the woman forever (even if I never call you again, trust me I love you hehehe)

Mostly this is how it goes, after a long uuum…jog, (I like to jog with good looking women after a lot of drinking) so after the jog the lady will grab a towel and walk out of the uum…jogging room to find something to drink water, milk , soda and such and such. My jogging sessions can be quite breath taking and thirst inducing. So they walk to the kitchen and alas! can not believe their eyes.

Now at this juncture it’s probably important I explain what the sight mostly is. Beer bottles; lots and lots of beer bottles. Strewn from the floor, to the fridge top, to the counter, to the sink and inside the half eaten pack of bread. Dirty cups and plates, take-away wrappers, half eaten fries and chicken bones (apparently no one ever eats the chicken half way). Coffee sachets, paper bags, airtime tickets and girl’s earrings.

Do not ask about the latter.

So there the nice lady is, in her towel, trying to take in the sight and she turns to shout at me. Something in the tune of, “what kind of animal are you?”

 But she finds me standing right there behind her with the cutest desperate baby face you have ever seen.

The first question is always

“yani you don’t have even a single clean cup?’

Now from this point…the conversation may take several directions depending on the girl’s character

Scenario 1: The Non-Give-A-Shittist

Me: (almost in tears) yes…I have a problem (bows head)

Her: (walking back to the jogging room) am not even thirsty anymore

Scenario 2: The Hog

Me: (almost in tears) yes…I have a problem (bows head)

Her: its okay I’ll just drink from the bottle (downs a whole 2 liter soda)

Scenario 3: Yule Mchafu

Me: (almost in tears) yes…I have a problem (bows head)

Her:  sawa!  (Grabs the cleanest looking one and drinks from it)

Scenario 4: The Keeper

Me: (almost in tears) yes…I have a problem (bows head)

Her: (tightening her towel) no one should live like this….where is your soap and dish cloth…if you even have them?

Now scenario four does not come around very often so sometimes when the girl has not been to the kitchen the whole while, I trick them in the morning, I offer to go buy breakfast if she’ll prepare it. In most cases they innocently agree. I come back with the stuff and point them to the kitchen then bam!

This has always worked till a day or two ago when these girls, shock on me, opted to just skip breakfast altogether.

So I had to do the dishes…sad day for a bachelor.