Kenyan Humour

The reason I write is because I have a number of brain cells missing. This means that I cannot get into any meaningful profession. When I say this, I am being very lenient (which is only human) with myself. I know some of you have been thinking that there is a job group ‘W’ for writers and are actually aspiring to be writers someday. Writers are jobless people who help media houses to employ hi-tech, snotty employees who are referred to as ‘Editors’. The editors’ work is to press the spell check button on the computer. If there are no red or green wavy lines under the words of a writer, they call it a day and release the article to the press. Note: The editor did not see this. The only advantage you have as a writer is that you don’t have to go to work at 8AM . You are usually given the time after the alarm goes off (usually 6AM for most Nairobians) to just lie on your bed and start torturing your brain to come up with a story that can fill in the gaps left by advertisers in the f

I was going to write about Kenyatta day but I caught the flu and all my thoughts are now all flu related. I am not sure what particular strain of the flu I have- it could be the human flu or swine flu or bird flu or one that has yet to get into the baptismal pool, for example cat flu or fish flu. With these flu-related thoughts, I remembered how a few months ago the whole world came to a complete standstill about swine flu. I got to know about it in a mat from a guy who told us that swine flu literally turned people into pigs. He also said that it had been lab manufactured by the Mexicans to export it to Kenya because our son Obama, had been elected president of the US before one of their own even though there are more Mexicans living in the US than are Kenyans worldwide. They, also according to the guy, were more likely to be a territory of the US than we are considering that they are America's neighbours while we would have to wait for the next evolution to be a territory of t

‘Thou shall not confuse a rained on lion with a cat.’ This was the sound advice the Prime Minister gave some of his colleagues in the former government who thought that he was in the political woods. Today, true to his word he is back in the limelight. I am thinking of ditching the horoscope pages once I get a direct line to him. Lion’s stories always captivated me when I was a child. I would ask grandma to repeat them over and over. I liked the lions’ fearless side and just how they overcame all their enemies specifically by eating them. Sometimes I fantasized about being a lion. These thoughts usually came upon me when I was involved in what my mom referred to as ‘monkey business’- which means that I came home looking like I had used sand to bathe. The result was that the business always earned me a proper spanking. It was during such moments that I wished I had a button that I could press somewhere on my body that would convert me into a lion – not to scare my mom, but to g

When I was growing up, I had a few relationship problems with Moi day and every holiday that was made to remind me that I am Kenyan. Not that I hate being Kenyan, no. I am 'Proud to be Kenyan'. But in Primary school, preparing for Moi day two months ahead was a real pain. We had to practice all these patriotic songs such as Tawala Kenya and another that went Eh Moi Eh.... for more than two months every year for the 5 years that I was in upper primary. At first the whole exercise was fun since it meant that you had outgrown lower primary until I reached Std 6 and there arose some more important things to worry about like puberty, a bulging chest, That Time of the Month and GHC. For those of you who need a background of the Nyayo Era, the president used to dish out 5 acre lands as if they were the complimentary mints you are given by big hotels when you attend workshops. This was especially if you could sing his praise like a parrot. So the teacher who was in charge of Musi