Wednesday, March 24, 2010

WAR IN THE MOUTH

I have a war that has been going on in my mouth for a fortnight now. This is because a section of my dental formula is tired of being treated like dirt. My teeth have decided that their primary duty is to chew food. They started protesting the other day after years of being soda openers and breakers of everything the hands couldn't and they now won't even chew a piece of bread soaked in tea.

One of them is so furious it won't even go to sleep. It works fine during the day but at night when it senses that I am in the usual sleeping position, it starts to ache, at first not too sharp and then the pain crescendos and before I know it I can't even sleep and nothing is at peace anymore. So I tried sleeping standing the other day to fool the tooth but after about 30 minutes my feet almost buckled. This tooth has learnt that the best way to teach me a lesson I won't soon forget is to ache during the hours I am trying to catch some sleep. Once the alarm goes off in the morning, it knows it is the time to stop aching and wait for me to get to bed again.

There is a friend of mine who is now in his grave because of a tooth. The tooth ached so much he grabbed the first thing that he thought would sooth it and he put vodka in it and thought vodka would work pretty much like it works on the brain but lo and behold he was found dead the following morning. I am not sure what killed him, the vodka or the toothache or both and I am not in the least trying to find out with my own tooth. So I decided to go to a dentist to have the tooth removed. You might want to know that I have no more savings because the dentist asked for every penny. But I will make more. Now I need a replacement for the lost tooth and I am told that if my name has not appeared on Fortune 500, it is better to forget the whole tooth replacement business altogether.

Which got me thinking about my cat. First, I am worried that if ever one of her four teeth aches, she will not be able to communicate that to me and secondly, I am wondering whether there are any veterinarians who specialize in dentistry. I guess they would have to be many because different animals have different dental formulas and probably for one to treat my cat, one would have studied feline dentistry. I envy elephants because once a set of their teeth ache, they just spit them out and have about 5 spit outs after which they succumb to toothlessness.

My friend's dog, Simba once had a dental problem. That was in our hunters and gatherers ages of between 10 and 12 years old. The dog had a bone stuck in between it's teeth and what followed was a restless day for my friend, his dad and I. My friend's dad picked a hammer in a great show of manual dexterity but later changed his mind because the situation seemed like it needed compassion which my friend's dad show of it was to repeatedly ask "How can a dog be so stupid?". All this time the dog's mouth was agape and it was drooling and shedding tears. She kept trying to claw the bone off her teeth which only left the left side of her face flayed and bare. By the time it dawned on us that we should take poor Simba to a vet doctor it was midnight and that meant another 10- 12 hrs of waiting.

The following morning we took her to the vet, a lady (I just felt compelled to mention that) and when Simba saw her and remembered that just a few months before the same doctor had pushed a needle the size of a knitting needle on her back side she tried to launch herself out through the closed windows. Apparently she had been in that small room six months before for a vaccine and she just remembered her last experience with the doc and she did not want to have any of it again. We were so frustrated trying to convince her that it is this 'bad' lady who would help with the bone but since she is canine and we are human, and we couldn't get through to her, we resulted to the method we humans know best. We forced her down and held her there while the doc did her job. After inspecting and anesthetizing the dog, she took a pair of pliers and removed the bone. It took around 3 minutes to do what we had tried to do for a day and a half. Since the left side of Simba's mouth was bare, the doc sacrificed a lab mouse and stitched it's skin on Simba's left side of the face. She looked quite comical since she was a German Shepherd but we thought it was better than walking around with a left bare face.

So we should really take care of our teeth because if we don't, our economy will soon fall into the hands of dentists.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

PUSHED TO THE LIMITS

There is a woman whose grey and white matter I don't mind seeing splattered on the four walls of her living room. Oh, you think that is violent? It doesn't sound as violent when an 'endocrined' - What the hell is wrong with this computer????? Why is it putting a red line under 'endocrined'. This word originated with Mrs Esther Timberlake. Surely she can't be wrong.

Forgive me . I am just on the warpath and I don't think I am quitting soon. I was saying that you feel this violent when an 'endocrined' woman shows up at your doorstep shouting at the top of her lungs that you have been grabbing food out of her six months old baby's mouth because her charitable organization type of husband paid for your fare.

So I went to open the door for the woman who was already set on Tigress and she grabbed me by the hair, which was just as well coz I slipped through her hands coz nowadays I wear my hair short. I obviously locked her out and she poured enough vitriol to sustain our country for the next half century. Apparently she had learnt that her husband 'pays' my fare from the loudmouth from Door No.2 who left out the fact that she too had been a beneficiary of her friend's husband's previous evening's benevolence.

Unfortunately I work for a reputable company and I did not want even a whiff of the 'huge scandal' to reach my editor because I would be summoned in the office and he would remind me what a reputable company I work for and so "would I please pass via the accounts office where my last cheque would be ready.'

So I am contemplating switching jobs and join the police. I will join the police for two reasons

(1) Just for fun, when you are bored because the morning will not be coming in the next few hours. you can call out to your buddies and say 'Hey, look guys, it is time to enjoy ourselves since the night does not wish to end. Lets hop onto motorbikes and go spray innocent Kenyans with bullets. (This thought is fed by the neighbour from hell).

(2) My boss to be, Prof. George Saitoti would rush to a press conference to defend me with the now tired, dog-eared tale of guns and machetes being found on murdered innocent Kenyans, and that, after sending a whole battalion of his boys to reduce anyone who as much as tries to protest police killings into what my grandma used to refer to as tuti (pronounced too-tay) wa Kanyenje which when translated from the original gothic language means roach powder.

Now this is a boss I want to work for, at least until my ire with the endocrined woman subsides.

Onto other important matters that hit our headlines, and this is big, 'Mrs Esther Timberlake will be meeting Sarah Palin at the end of the year! This impressed us so much and when I say we, I mean we sisters who have absolute zero interest in politics. Weren't we green with envy? This being the same Sarah Palin who sealed her party's defeat the first time she opened her mouth in a talk show? Authors, book idea! 'In the footsteps of Sarah Palin: The story of Esther Timberlake'

Actually the women Esther Timberlake should be talking to are the likes of Mrs. Beckham, Mrs. Kobe Bryant and Mrs. Tiger Woods. With all the accolades heaped upon her yet to be husband by Pastor Joseph Hellon, and the internet teeming with women who are claiming a piece of her husband, she should be preparing for expensive diamond stones and rocks or grabbing women by the hair. And just some advice girl, 'DO NOT FORGET THE LYRICS'.

'There is a danger in loving somebody too much, talalalalala talala talala, talalalalalaaaaaa .....

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

TRIBUTE TO THE LATE HON. DR KULUNDU

I received the news of the death of Dr. Kulundu with great shock especially because I learnt about it on Monday morning in a 'mat' because we didn't have power on Sunday evening and all the other passengers looked at me as if I had just emerged from Lake Naivasha where we understand there is scarce oxygen when I gasped at as ancient history as 9pm news of the previous night. Here is a column I wrote when Dr. Kulundu had the famed clash with US Ambassador Ranneberger.

MR AMBASSADOR SIR!
I want to echo our politicians for the first time, (note: it is for the first time!) and tell the US ambassador, Mr. Mike Ranne-whatever, who from this point I will refer to as Ranne because his name is difficult to spell, to put up and shut up or ship out!

His behaviour is off-putting. First, he takes up the onus of giving us advice on whom we should elect to office. Just as a reminder, in case Ranne has forgotten or is unaware of Kenya ’s history, we have been electing someone to office for the last forty years. So we know the generation to elect. For your information Sir, we elect the older generation to office because we cannot afford to pay a president’s pension for more than a few years. As you have noticed, our annual budget is what your government spends on your pet food allowance for a week.

Just because your country has young aspirants in next year’s election does not mean that we should follow suit. And it is really not out of choice that you have young aspirants. Rumor has it that the older industrial-era-generation has gone to train in mobile telephony because the elections are skewed towards the young in this information era, and that we should expect them to make a comeback in 2012. Fortunately, we shall be holding elections in the same year and we can’t wait to see which country will be fielding older presidential candidates than the other!

We had of course forgotten his ill advice but since he has to remind us that he is around, he took the opportunity to display his disapproval of our choice of leaders at the tabling of the human trafficking report, whose study his government sponsored. The study was carried out by experts. Dr. Kulundu just read the report. He did not write it. He never writes anything. As far as we know he has read the same speech on Labour Day since he became the Minister for Labour and even that, reliable sources tell us that he borrowed it from his predecessor. The ambassador should therefore direct his anger to experts in human trafficking and not to Dr. Kulundu.

To prove Dr. Kulundu’s innocence in this matter, the Dr. was so happy with the fact that he had a chance to appear on TV a day before dissolution of parliament that he was grinning at his first-rate performance and even thought that the ambassador owed him a handshake! From the gossip columns, we have reliably learnt that workers have been very uncooperative and that they refused to threaten with strikes, hence leaving the Minister with little to do. His area of specialization has been to threaten workers who threaten to go on strike, and it also remained his only ticket to TV.

Thanks to the report, Dr. Kulundu also got a chance to remind us that he is still around. I hope that his constituents will re-elect him and the next president will re-appoint him to the Labour Ministry. This will compel us to declare the Ministry of Labour deceased after 5 more years of boredom. The end result of this will be to declare a public holiday (hopefully on the Minister’s birthday) christened Black Labour Day. On this day we will assemble at Nyayo Stadium and have traditional warriors spear Dr. Kulundu’s effigy and burn it and then the Minister for Public Service will give a brief history on the origin of the Black Labour Day, after which we will all go home happy to be away from work.

Now back to Ranne. Why would any researcher in human trafficking mention the country that put food on his table for a couple of months, list it as an important destination for human traffickers? Naivety I hope; or the researcher just wanted to put our Labour Minister in hot soup.

America , for those of you who did not study the subject of history like me, is the bridge between purgatory and heaven. Human trafficking? An American would ask you with that tone of are you for real? The US is so technologically complex - its navy can detect a human trafficker and his cargo in the ‘land of origin’ and have them grounded or re-routed to other ‘important human trafficking’ destinations listed in the report.

Also, why would anyone in their right human trafficking mind want to traffic humans to the US ? To whom would you sell them? The Americans have machines that do all the work that human traffic does; from cleaning the house, doing dishes, taking care of day old babies and driving the school-going kids to school. And they (Americans) sell sex toys in grocery stores!

I recommend that someone reviews the report on human trafficking. Here are the guidelines for the lucky critic. Your sole intention should be to delete the US from the list of important human trafficking destinations. As for Ranne, he would do well to give his advice on ‘Leadership and Generations’ to his president, especially on appointment of ambassadors- hahaha.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

I WANT TO BE PRESIDENT

I am 'PROUD TO BE KENYAN'. Really. And it is not because this adage originated with Dr. Alfred Mutua. No, I really am proud to be Kenyan. Who wouldn't be with all the democratic millions of hectares that we are enjoying compared to the tight rope we were walking a few years ago.

Today, you can stagger right out of a bar with all your pockets hanging out, knees knocking while you are trying to hold onto anything that your hands can find or walk from a church with a weird name like 'Finger of God Ministries' and announce that you want to be the next President of Kenya. If you are lucky and a journalistic ear happens to be around, you join the Raila, Martha and Bifwoli Wakoli bunch and you will be on television as a news story which goes 'Another Kenyan joins the (rat) race'.

The most fascinating thing for us who have eaten a lot of salt is that the President, going about his business, will occasionally remind the guys who want his job that 'job iko na mwenyewe.' President Kibaki dismisses you as a rubble rouser and asks the public to disregard you. Hon. Fred Gumo said it even better when he told Hon. Eugene Wamalwa 'to keep up in his father's big shoes because daddy doesn't mind' - he can't leave the house in them.

A few years ago, it was seditious to say you wanted to be president. There were guys who were known as Special Branch who intercepted your thoughts before you got to declare your interest. They were mind readers who took you to a building that shares the same appellate as a buffalo and they charged at and trampled on you until you gave up your presidential fantasies. If you insisted, they dragged you to the courts and charged you with treason and sedition. I suggest that we start a political museum in this country and hunt down survivors of the Special Branch and mount them in galleries with giant pins. Anyone who supports this suggestion raise your hands. I thought so.

This state of affairs left many Kenyans without ambition to be anything but what the system dictated. The Joint Admissions Board (JAB) determined what you would study. It was not like today where we have a group of persons calling themselves 'career advisors' that can tell what a foetus in it's mother's womb will become. Me, I was JABed into a Wildlife class which for the life of me don't know what I was there for. Of course it was the highpoint of my life, being a domestic tourist on government funds, hopping from one National Park to the next. I later tried to get a job with Kenya Wildlife Service (KWS) but the interviews (and I have attended several) always have this question about giraffes; one from Lake Nakuru and the other from Maasai Mara Game Reserve which I am supposed to differentiate.


The giraffes look pretty identical to me, but my interviewers and some of my former classmates who were lucky to land wildlife jobs swear that one of the giraffes is Maasai and the other is Rothschild, which I think is a tribe from Europe. A career advisor would have advised JAB that they were wasting time and money on me.

The other thing that we pride ourselves in is sports. When ever our teams win, we all suddenly ooze with patriotism. Kenyan ladies are now flooding our stadia to watch football matches. This is the fault of relationship columns which advise ladies to love their men's sports to enhance their relationships. I think it is now going too far because the guys would rather their girls go shopping 'because they don't the hell shut up and let us concentrate on the game!' is what a friend of mine told me. He said the girls keep asking questions every time the ref blows his whistle or raises the small flag. That same girlfriend came to impress me with her knowledge of the game and when I asked her which teams were playing, she couldn't remember the team that was playing with Harambee Stars let alone the stadium they were in. And she can't wait for the next match. The boyfriend is bribing me with a weekend out of the city so long as I take the girl as far away from the city as I possibly can. And if you know me, I am in on it.


And hey, I am looking for a running mate and a Prime Minister for 2012. Send me your details.