Suppositories and Festivities

Basically very few things shake me down. Over the years I’ve learnt not to stress over things I have no power of altering and believe you me it makes life more palatable. But there are things that freeze me like hunger and confinement. The main reason am gainfully employed is to avoid a rumbling stomach at all costs. If you want to know how bad hunger is try passing by Kimathi street on one of those days when you broke and stand anywhere in between kaldis and java. Only then will you get the full picture.

So for quite sometime I had this pain so I called up my favorite doctor Wanjiru and explained my turmoil for this turmoil had snaked itself into the list of things that freeze me up. I have something against hospitals and consultation rooms. Opening up to a total stranger doesn’t quite do it for me so over time I formed this bond with Dr. Wanjiru. She understood my body is a dysfunctional biological contraption as it’s fed on a myriad of experimental niceties and things not so nice. And anyway having a pretty doctor is a plus. Am male. Duh! Another advantage is there are times I consult over a drink and when I reach my tipsy levels I can ask all sorts of disturbing questions including how femiplan works. She’s a great doctor but above all she’s a wonderful friend and yes it’s strictly platonic. You cannot expect to hammer your doctor while she treats you of diseases that can even burn a DVD. As usual I tried skirting round the issue but she saw right through it and said words I really didn’t wanna hear. You know the I told you so statement from your doctor. Only a month ago I had the same problem but after she suggested some weird medication. I gave her a straight undiluted No without even blinking. She promised I’d be back in a month’s time.

Where I come from, we believe we are circumcised using a Lion’s claw. Undergoing the cut makes you feel invisible sort of. But not when it’s done by a pretty nurse. Then you just anaa sissy. Those circumcision rites drum some sort of unwritten man rules so deep into you that you find yourself arguing with logic. That’s the situation I was in. The situation didn’t care whether I had been circumcised by Hitler himself or a 1st year KMTC student. The situation was doing a 69 on my behind like I was a Nairobi aviation light skin.

For those who have limited knowledge in ballistics, there is a bullet known as the 5.56mm. It’s what’s used in modern assault rifles. Small and lethal but bigger than a pistols 9mm. Unfortunately my good doctor wanted me to go shooting myself with hardened jelly lookalike 5.56mm things up the wrong target holes. Folks there is no joy in killing or getting killed. In this situation she actually wanted me to shoot myself and enjoy shooting myself. Weird, right? To simplify this, enter a drug called suppositories. In traditional African customs a mans behind is strictly a no go zone. Its his Bermuda triangle. Its holy and Undiscussable especially when you believe you have been circumcised by a lions claw. Its even uncomfortable discussing about a man’s behind but biology has a way of trampling upon traditions. Hemorrhoids or piles are very painful things that choose to occur on behinds and if ignored they get so painful you’d think you’ve contracted a Sierra Leone veneral disease. There are many causes to them occurring but when you an arch enemy of vegetables or fruits like me they catch up with you and do you a 69 served cold . So the first time she told me about these medical bullets I said no. She said I didn’t have an option. I said I’ll man up the pain and eat roughage and they’ll disappear. She reminded me that chewing Meru herbs made it worse. I reminded her that one of my MPs had categorically stated that the only side effect of chewing Meru herbs is that you get a bone hard erection and you sew your partner like a singer sewing machine. A month later I was nowhere near a singer machine lookalike and I was a man in pain. I was even willing to shoot missiles up in there leave alone bullets if they would reduce the pain. Medication is that you insert a hardened jelly like 5.56mm medicinal bullet up your you know where. High up there for like a week or two and it clears those hemorrhoids and you back to normal. Folks there is nothing harder in life like molesting yourself. There is nothing enjoyable in shooting yourself and surviving the shooting. Raping yourself is hard fellas. When your mother or missus asks you to clear your vegetables and fruits please do unless you think the concept of of doing yourself a 69 is enjoyable. Its not. For folks that have their prostate checked. Salute!!!! Y’all have balls. And for you my dearest Dr. Wanjiru, your punishment is doing an amarula jig in hell.

The festivities have come knocking again and as usual we’ll madly embrace them. From weddings to stag parties to Christmas celebrations and finally new year. This is the period where common sense becomes rare. Actually it becomes so rare you would have better chances of finding the promised land than finding common sense loitering around. For me stupidity is spending sleepless night at machakos country bus station and paying unreasonable amounts just to travel home. If you never spared a single weekend over 365 days please spare me the sordid tale of spending way more than you earn in the name of being home for Christmas. Send your loved ones that cash and next year try making time to visit home over a weekend. It is this moments where everything is done in excess from eating to drinking to sinning. We have folks celebrating the Lord’s birthday you would think they his twin. I don’t think drinking yourself into a stupor or eating into a constipation goes down well with the Lord. He’ll so blacklist you mshwari will look like child’s play. Am not against people making merry. Hell its been a taught year so loosening up wouldn’t do anybody no harm but loosening your morals will do a lot of people in your life harm. The work hard and party harder slogan is a fornicating excuse. I invented that crap. Let’s not even go there. In your celebratory mood have you ever thought about doing something charitable apart from buying Ngara light skins a bottle of Jameson? Could you do something charitable this festive month and not litter IG with selfies of you handing goodies to the less fortunate. We do not need to know of your wannabe Mother Teresa spirit. Something’s do not need your showing off, it beats the point of helping in the first place. Unfortunately nothing I write will make much sense to most people and someone somewhere will read this and label me a party pooper. The hater. One thing I know about the YOLO mantra is that come next year it will be OH NO. It beats logic to hustle for rent and food while you were acting all father Christmas to mwiki ratchets. Dear Ninja, even Santa Claus doesn’t condone stupidity. It is simply stupid to huddle your whole family and pay exorbitant fares to travel upcountry then come next year you filling salary advance forms at the bank. The chicken upcountry would taste as good if it was eaten in your house and your old man would appreciate more if you sent him that cash that you will spend on bus fare or fuel. You do not have to dine at Sankara to make it magical. The arboretum would be magical as well. It’s all about making sane decisions and avoiding life’s hangover come January. Do not try living la Vida loca as your workmate. You do not know his side hustle or how much his missus makes. But honestly I think the most genuine act would be the giving act. Y’all been blessed to have been receiving through out the year. Good health, good life, good food, good salaries and good friends. Sharing some of that goodness with the genuinely needy wouldn’t hurt as long as you do not litter social media with your Santa affairs. If you do, go baptise yourself Judas already.

All said and done we’ll be back to the same sorry tale come next year. You know the one of aki kumekauka. We Kenyans. We do what we do best. Complaining. But just like my suppositories we’ll have a lot of people with troubles up their behinds. Go on and chew the new year as if you invented the calendar. January’s gonna stick a middle finger up your behind. Spend like its judgement day and rent will rape you so hard you’ll wish for my bullet like suppositories. Fornicate like a king Solomon and you’ll catch a veneral disease so strange Sierra Leon’s never heard of it.

But guess what? Am gonna YOLO like the rest of the ordinary folk. I will eat, drink and be merry. Difference is that I’ll lace my stupidity with reason over passion and not passion over reason. Y’all have a passionate one folks. Cheers to the holidays! Y’all keep calm and kula those things. Things meaning chicken not Chics.

 

-Koome Mwiti-

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