The story I will share today is the kind that made me roll my eyes before saying, “Bora uhai!” So this guy called Sam Ndori reached out to me on Messenger! of all things Messenger! With a story asking if I could publish it. A brother man be spewing lies about me but like I said, Bora uhaiiii! I once tried to hook him up with the love of his life(because am that nice) lakini boychild alikataa. Kichwa ngumu kama maembe mbichi! Dj Shiti must have had Sam Ndori in mind when he did his song, ‘Oh Boychild.’ Anyway even though you are lying Sam, just take it away.
Have you heard about taking a cow to water and finding that it would not drink? If you cannot even make a cow drink, do you think you are likely to make a woman do anything? That’s an excerpt from my idle brain contents, on the day I formally submitted my application on Facebook to be Agie Opondo’s friend. Would I make her hit the ‘Confirm’ button? I did, and for a month I felt like I deserved a Nobel Peace Prize for making a strange lady do something.
I am a super boring full-time unemployed 26-year old prick whose bank account needs to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment. My days are spent shamelessly lounging in my parents’ house, either thinking about suing the government for emotional damages, or effortlessly trying to divorce my consciousness from everything around me so as to concentrate. I then narrow the beam of my concentration, cutting out anything that could distract me, until I focus with a clear hard light on – nothing. Folks, it is only by
thinking about nothing that you can understand anything. That’s how I formed the first impression that Agitah here, is the type that would trash her marriage in a couple of days.
This lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, and from love to matrimony in a moment. It thereafter transforms from a wife to a mother to her husband. She’d say things like, “I got two-three kids, if you count my husband” and “I told you so” as often as possible. She would teach that halfwit how to live his life down to the smallest detail. Have you seen her smile? What about the angles in her selfies to conceal her horrid personality? Don’t be duped! You don’t want to play Russian roulette
with all the chambers loaded. I see a wife who’ll yell and scream while calling her husband names in the heat of her emotion, for not squeezing the toothpaste from the end. She’d dredge up the past and bring up old hurts from October 10th 2012.
Dear thirsty fellas, the insanely numerous ‘Likes’ on her posts are not just likes. Ever asked yourself how and why she gets more of them in 3 minutes than you have, ever since you joined Facebook? My nil tax returns filing gut tells me she would leave the room when the “Likes” call, to go and listen intently to whatever is going on in their lives. She would do this while complaining about her husband to them. Ms. Opondo-Cha, the type that’ll hyphenate her last name, will send cards and drop off flowers for them for no reason as well as become emotionally invested in them bwana akiwa tu hapo like an envelope with no address.
Ole wake if he fell for those eyes, which she’d roll to The Suez canal and back while lecturing him in front of others and ridiculing his feelings, behavior, dreams and thoughts. Short and not so sweet, huh! This selfish wife would then vanish from the marriage like the Goldalyn Kakuya brouhaha because she only loves her bed and her mama. The husband’s attempts to love her as his own body, nourishing and cherishing her (Ephesians 5:28 et al.,) would have been wasted on this self-centered battle-axe who, let’s face it, is the center of the universe. When she disappears, mtukufu Mr. Right, vigorously rub a deodorant into your armpits and join the rest of your black kings in Russia for the World Cup. And whoever she’ll end up with next, haijalishi ikiwa utaleta Roto tanks saba za maji drawn from each of the seven seas, her favorite rapper’s toenails or thirty incisor teeth of male albino lions as dowry; please jump off that bridge.
I know she can’t wait for me to finish ranting so she can speak highly of me. What’s your first impression of her? Spew it here. As for your comments, hold them to the end of the world.
Those interested in sharing their pieces here can reach me on firstname.lastname@example.org
Have a lovely week ahead.