random thoughts of a tapered brain


the drama continues *cue parliamentary proceedings*

as is wait for Foreign Affairs Minister Moses Wetang’ula’s hour of reckoning at Parliament, I can’t help but wonder where our country is headed to. could the time where corruption and impunity is arrested be nigh?

Could the Kenya where Ministers, Members of parliament and public servants who have for ages held this country hostage treating it as their personal cash cows be here?

is it possible that the “grave” situation that Mayor Majiwa has dug himself into be the preamble to kenyan’s burying their impunity past and marching on to the second republic?

William Ruto and his presidential ambitions. what to say? as much as I believe the expediency in which he was suspended and consequently arraigned in court today is getting a external shove, if we separate issues, and if indeed he stashed some of the public’s money, then we don’t mind if Raila himself dons a wig and calls for order in the court!!!!

the three cases currently headlining our news may be the beginning of something diffrent for Kenya.

Or is it just wishful thinking? a case of counting our chicks before they hatch?

Time will judge us right or wrong!!! For now, the drama continues.

*cue parliamentary proceedings*

kenya parliament


Who will restore sanity??????


nyayo stadium



Just like an aging piece of furniture that has outlived its usefulness. Just like a bad song that is on loop by your favourite radio station. That is the story of soccer management in the country; a tired tune.

Editorials have been written of the same, readers have written letters to the editors on the same. We have been treated to numerous television talk shows and radio call-ins complaining on how run down management of football in Kenya is being/already run down. Opinion pieces with the theme “to hell with FKL” are our staple diet now.

Why bother dive into an overcrowded arena with this article? Well, for some people to change their poise, some violence is paramount. And for this senile institution of self-serving individuals to pack up; this is our form of violence. Words are our weapons and coverage being our battlefield.

Kenya has never been a force to reckon when it came to international football competitions.

Our current world ranking on the FIFA/Coca-Cola standing is 115 while across the continent we are at 29. Our best show was in December 2008 when we were 68. That year also happens to be the same when we gained the most positions; 23.

We have at times pulled off some amazing upsets but more often than not, we have fallen to some mediocre teams causing us upsets. The latest Guinea Bissau loss leaving a sour aftertaste that we are now all too familiar with.

I will not mention the Uganda Cranes match.

Even before the ink dried on all the commentaries calling for the FKL and KFF fellows to seek alternative employment, the unimaginable happened at Nyayo Stadium.

7 enthusiastic fans died and scores others were injured following a stampede just before the floodlit Gor Mahia vs AFC Leopards match started on Saturday.

As soon as pictures of those who perished and those nursing injuries started streaming in they sent the country into collective gloom and thought. How could this happen? What are the parents, relatives and friends of those who perished going through? How could a soccer march turn tragic?

Soccer matches are typically an emotional affair. Soccer is an international language. Soccer is the reason warring guerrilla factions in Ivory Coast called a ceasefire after Drogba requested it.  It’s the same reason President Museveni sent half his country over to Kenya two weeks ago to cheer their nation team on.

If have not had the pleasure of going for many soccer matches, but I was in Nyayo for the Kenya Vs Uganda game.

Emotions are a real hard thing to control. When you throw in other crippling factors like alcohol, the situation is bleak at best. But passion was not the sole cause for the stampede, disorganisation was.

Referring to the organisation at the stadium as deficient is being very generous with adjectives.

Assuming no renovations have been made after the Cranes vs Harambee Stars game, my take is that Nyayo Stadium should be shut down and beat into shape.

With its capacity standing at 26,000 (FIFA’s recommended), the gates that were open to the fans were only two. Quite a feat the stadium management were trying to achieve.

Squeezing thousands of people through the least available space with time and patience tapping your back is quite an ambitious task; the barriers, blistering sun and rude policemen at hand notwithstanding.

And that red rotating gate that allows only one person in at a time. This is the only terrestrial example that comes close to the biblical analogy of going to heaven being like squeezing a camel through the eye of a needle.

And who sells tickets to such a game at the stadium, seriously? Ok, G4S may run away with the proceeds, but that’s not reason enough to ditch them.

Some of the flaws at the stadium are sore thumbs – you have to work really hard to avoid noticing them. If only the stadia management would take this dark lesson to shut and think of how to rectify things and avoid such calamities in future.

Recommendations made a while back on installing seats in place of the concrete blocks should be implemented. The stadium is still a far cry from the glory it has the ability of becoming.

If the warring factions would close shop and stop using soccer as a catapult into politics. If only persons interested in restoring our not-too-terrible soccer standards got to office.

Will this debacle that is Kenyan politics come to an end? we do not care if Government intervenes and attracts a FIFA ban.  Who will restore sanity??????




I have never been a fan of Classic 105 for three reasons; their music, too much sex talk and the busted show.

I’m a reggae, dancehall and one drop person #uptownThursday and #moneyfriday !!!

Secondly, seriously life does not revolve around sex! Life is brought about by it, but there’s more to our existence in the world than matters horizontal. And I surely don’t wake up daily anxious to listen to raunchy stories of “pare pare”.

Lastly, the show that aired last evening was a perfect example of why it should die a natural death. Ciku Muiruri took the joke a bit too far.

A dude gets a text from his wife’s colleague telling him that she is sleeping with the boss. The guy tells Ciku to call her up and “bust” her. Ciku poses as the boss’s wife. At  first Agnes (the cheat) denies it but when Ciku claims  her ‘hubby’ is HIV+ , Agnes says is Oh My God*10 rant! Agnes’ hubby is listening in and is mad to the bone!!

They somehow manage to pull this trickery off repeatedly with variations arising only in the curses and screams. (Some claim the calls are staged, but we will never know)

Ok, my view about this particular episode is based on the premise that only God can judge us (insert Pac’s only God can judge me now) therefore Ciku has no moral authority to wreck people lives like that.

The Amighty Wikipedia describes sin as “Sin, in religion, is an act that violates a known moral rule. The term sin may also refer to the state of having committed such a violation. Commonly, the moral code of conduct is decreed by a divine entity.” Key word: devine entity.

The debates that guys are having that she deserves what she got is a bunch of us acting like moral sweepers who’s behavior is sparkling while the opposite is true.

Who are we to cast the 1st stone while as one of my colleagues at work wrote “Never have I seen Kenyans both on Facebook and Twitter pretend to be moral purists like this morning!!”

We all have our skeletons in the closet and for Angie; hers was opening up her legs to her boss.

Being a member of the oft trashed media, this is exactly why some of us are accused of lowering our standards to levels baffling.

Kenya Communications Amendment Act 2008 states that “Broadcast services should promote the observance at all times, of public interest obligations in all broadcasting categories; protect the right to privacy of all persons adding that Any person who contravenes this section commits an offence and shall, on conviction, be liable to a fine not exceeding one million shillings or to imprisonment for a term not exceeding three years or to both.”

This OMG-lady had not been warned prior to her talking that she was being recorded. This is paramount when working for radio or television.

We owe the public more than this. They trust you as the disseminators of information, the truth. And you stab them in the back?

She can seek redress from the courts and claim that she has been emotionally scarred and milk the media house dry. All she needs is a crafty lawyer (like Denny Crane) who will hit them where it hurts most.

The only problem is that guys who have been “busted” have done wrong alright and are willing to bury the issue. Nobody is brave enough to just say “fuck it” and dive straight into the drama that is bound to surround such a case in the event one goes to court.

When that one person is finally busted, and as much as he was in the wrong throws caution to the wind that will be the day of reckoning for Ciku and her ilk.

Another sad bit about this whole saga is the dragging of a disease that has crippled our continent and using it as a tool to instill fear. Is this the way to end the stigma that envelopes AID?

People get post and pre counseling before getting tested for HIV. This is because the disease is a huge deal that has caused many to commit suicide and nobody should be treated to whatever Agnes was this morning.

Its plain inhumane!

The defense rests its case.



Whether through disease or through an accident it’s inevitable; death just like taxes is certain.  That’s why I dispute the oft used phrase that somebody narrowly escaped death. It was not meant to happen in the first place. It was not on God’s to-do list for the day.

I’m not so big on the grim reaper and his antics but the death of the cashier from Ebrahims supermarket at the weekend was one that would move even the most emotionally detached amongst us.

He died trying to salvage money that was not his, an amount that presumably would have taken him many years to accumulate.

There are three things that I fear most; rats and guns/rifles/subs/revolvers/pistols (anything that spits bullets). Oh, and hot porridge for obvious reasons. I have never discoveed the reason behind my phobia for rodents but it must lie in the shape of its dental formula and its efficiency.

Guns on the other hand are loud and they have gained notoriety for dispatching people to meet their maker with remarkable efficiency. Every day we are served with stories of guys who stopped bullets in their trajectory and they didn’t live to tell the tale.

Guns have been fêted in movies; the more lethal, the better. The rapidity at which they spit bullets and accuracy at hitting targets are some benchmarks used at grading the “bad boys”.

Their desirability and sexiness of the heavy metal ends at the point when one is pointed AT you. There is no television set between you and the finger on the trigger – just porous air.

I have always held thieves, robbers, carjackers and their cousins with the highest contempt that I can gather. I place this group of individuals at the bottom of the “value to mankind” pyramid, right after a box of wet wood chippings.

Yeah, I’m a tad judgmental but that’s beyond the point. All this guys should be rounded up and executed while hanging by their small toes.

In my utopia world, I still have slots for the poor guys and the rich too. Life has never been fair and my imaginations are realistic too (my dreams however serve no master).

However, I murder all the thieves and dispose of guns. The rats too didn’t make it!

Thieves and their tools of trade are not the epitome of evil, but I think the world would be a much better place without the lot.

A world where you are not afraid to go home at 2am if you so wish without fearing that the next metal thrust into your mouth will be a pistol nozzle and not a spoon.

One where the sun sets without our bulletins reporting on “after an exchange of fire, my mboys managed to take down one suspect, while two others escaped with injuries. We managed to recover a TOY pistol”. It’s always a toy pistol recovered!

I have images world where those who deal in motion sensors, electric fences and alarms will go bankrupt.

Where nobody will pounce on another’s hard earned property forcefully or “naomba nikuibie”.

The realists will bring me back home with an emphatic “You Wish” and argue that since thieves are here to stay, we better have guns around for our police. Well, there’s some truth in that since guns just like girls, you can’t live with them, and you can’t live without them.

Meanwhile in my parallel universe, somebody should plant a cactus on Mikhail Kalashnikov’s grave  and water it with a bag of ballast while at it.

Faith blooms in the most barren of places….

“Faith blooms in the most barren of places.”

In the Bible, Sarah’s birth to Isaac at her advanced age of 90 after years of failed attempts defines the word “miracle”.

More biblical examples were illustrated the “food shower” when the heavens opened up and it rained manna and another being the story of five loaves of bread and two fish.

What is currently happening in Chile is a present day example of a marvel that escapes human understanding.





The rescue of 33 miners trapped in their copper and gold mine caved in on August 5th has the whole world glued to their screens, thumbing away tweets (the Chile president too) about how awesome this event is. Many people have travelled from far to the site now christened Camp Hope in the hope that a divine happening will visit them too.

As I watched the graphics about the tunnels and levels where the miners have called home for the past many days, my conclusion was that that’s some scary s%&t right there.

700meters underground and surrounded by unstable boulders angry at you for chipping at them is not exactly a relaxing atmosphere. Throw in the uncertainties on the surface about you being alive and hope starts dozing. Add doubts about the food supplies running out and hope goes into deep slumber.

And after they counted over 70 days that they were in the earth’s belly; they are being shuttled up to safety and into the arms of waiting family.

The whole ordeal is one that I’m sure has enough Hollywood directors salivating at the prospects of making a hit from this. This is what has informed the miners to sign a memorandum to keep hush hush on the details of their stay “downstairs” unless all of them are to benefit equally from it.

I imagined myself locked up in my house for the same peiod of time, with a limited amount of food, drinks and the house devoid of all amenities that keep me sane. Dim the lights, force me to jog around the rooms daily for 70 days plus. After three and a half days blast the house, I will be marehemu anyway!!!

Miracles do happen, it is happening in the desert region of Northern Chile.





harambee vs cranes

“For much of the world soccer has long served as a form of ritual combat onto which neighborhoods, tribes and even nations could project their most passionate enmities. “

Supporting a team perceived as the underdog is never easy. for a moment or many this past weekend, I actually empathized with Arsenal fans #Chukifm. Our Harambee Stars bear similar stripes to the North London team.

But patriotism runs deep in my being and I secured my ticket on 1st day they were available. This was after all a derby to look forward: a chance to reclaim honor in the EAC region. And their pronounced Mariga’s name wrong; that’s just unacceptable.

These guys had stolen our island and now they wanted the stadium too? Not under our watch!!

The greatest thing about soccer is that it gives you a free pass to run your mouth about “our team” and how we are going to “rest the fury of the gods” on the other team’s shoulders. “mnaweza tushinda kwa mabao, lakini kupiga domo hamtuwezi”

It doesn’t matter if you no idea what the number 7’s role on the pitch let alone what his name is. For all you care, the coach could jump in and score. All you care about are the scores.

Being a fan does not include vetting and nowhere is that clearer than at the stadium.

On the eve of the game, I had booked some hotel rooms for some pals who were crossing over from their landlocked country to on our city yellow and steal a win right under our patriotic noses. And boy did they arrive!

Six thousand noisy supporters are not a small number, especially if all of them have some tweaked, smaller version of the vuvuzela which is noisier 1000 angry elephants.

At 2am, they had turned Moi Avenue into Jinja Road punishing their vocal cords as they drove by in flag-draped cars. The buses were even more. How many buses did Museveni sponsor again? Our Chi-baki has a lot of catching up to do.

The walk to the stadium was fun. Didn’t know Nyayo stadium is really that close from town. The stares from Kenyans, who cared less if “The Stars” all suffered a simultaneous bout of Indian flu just before kickoff drilled judgmental stares at us “Are you guys really that plotless?”

Getting into the stadium was terrible. And terrible is the word of choice as I mentally grope for one that can properly describe the TORTURE!!

Turns out the tickets had been oversubscribed – FKL never ceases to amaze me. FIFA had set a limit of 26,000 fans, while we were well in excess of 40,000!!!

Back in my high school days I was well-trained in queue “jumping”, so I still got in. Next time though, I’m playing the “I’m a journalist. I’ve come to cover the game” card; that was an experience I’m not keen on reliving.

Mariga is a phenomenon. There is a reason he is at Inter and it’s not his taste in cars. He and Oliech (spaced out flashes of brilliance) seemed to understand why they were on the pitch.

The rest were simply lacking in confidence. The wasted balls and number of throw-ins Ugandans had are proof enough. “Without confidence, you are twice as F$£%*d in the race of life – and soccer matches”.

All in all, the Ugandans still managed a point…saved by the crossbar and an inspired keeper. After all the bad-mouthing, they were the winners of the day.

Let us meet in March…


cranes supporters



Another week bites the dust. This one passed so damn fast – no complaints though. Can’t believe 10months of training are almost done. All locked, loaded and ready to dive  head first into the real world.

Let me get this done with…


The prospect of venturing into new frontiers that lie ahead is welcome. I get thrilled by challenges, as long as I give an oink about the subject matter. If not…..whooooooosh!! Many folks want progress but are resistant to change. The system isn’t wired that way! So here’s to CHANGE.


Friday’s have this unexplainable way of affecting moods; positively. Engine running on life.  High on existence itself.   If only the doc had not put me on a leash with respect to Alcohol and Sukuma wiki, I would have dashed for the usual Friday drinks with my sic pals. But honestly, it’s a real struggle steering clear of kales!!!!! Ha….

But I’m thinking of doing Money Friday with G-money at Jazz Bar over a cold glass of MILK.


Jah Cure is a phenomenon!!!!!

I listen to reggae 27hours a day. So this slot is effectively biased towards the music usually regarded as music for the “scum of earth”.

“so sad your living in darkness yet your the light

on your journey to happiness did you check your life?

when you looking for love, you should look inside……”


All roads, jerseys, vuvuzelas and throats lead to Nyayo Stadium for the Harambee Stars thrashing Uganda Cranes game at 4pm.


harambee stars


Imaka, John and the rest of my furru furru condition brothers let us meet at the slaughterhouse. This one is going to be bloody!!!!!

I pity my lungs and vocal cords!

If my body allows, Sunday we hit the pool……


I won’t bother with this one. It’s rather obvious!


I just wish people would stop writing “FUN” when they intend “FAN”. I’m no authority in the Queens language and I have my fair share of faults when writing, but the stated inversion gets me gritting my teeth.

“I am a die-hard Manchester United FUN”…….*experiencing convulsions*. Then will you experience FAN as you watch the game??


  • Every journalist who is not too stupid or too full of himself to notice what is going on knows that what he does is morally indefensible. He is a kind of confidence man, preying on people’s vanity, ignorance, or loneliness, gaining their trust and betraying them without remorse…Janet Malcolm


  • The road to happiness is paved with self delusion…..