A day in the life:It’s my birthday

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It is not one of those days that a smile just placates itself on my face. It is rather a nasty day, when you wake up with various frustrations that life has manifested upon your head. The first thing you do in the morning is that you do not feel like waking up, neither do you feel like sleeping. You wanna stay up and do some weird innuendos, and imagine of materialistic aspects for like three straight hours hanging on that rope of false hope.

The only way to achieve some form of happiness is imagining that you are Floyd Mayweather for a while, taking into account that you just got credited with 17 billion bucks. It is the best feeling and you want hung on there for like forever, and imagine of what you would do with all that money; the way you would sleep on an electric water bed naked, the way you would buy a chopper, or a Bugatti Veyron and inhabit in its swanky interior, the way you’ll hung out with all the most beautiful lasses that Kenya can afford and so on, even eating from a crocodile’s mouth.

All these just scrammed into my mind early in the morning. I opened my heavy eyelids, one eye at a time, not wanting to believe that it was actually another fresh dawn. I struggled before I could open all the eyes entirely to face the harsh day. First I hate the hall-like feeling in the stomach; like I ate warm lizards and later on they cooled down and ate my stomach leaving nothing. It is the feeling that is literally the cause of my wake every morning, just to rush to the kitchen and empty all the sufurias for any kind of food.

Secondly, I have another sick feeling that I am really unwell, can’t even move my shorts up the waist because I have no energy. The worst of all is that you’ll hear the Mbuyu calling out

‘Wake up you lazy heads!’

They are the kind of the last generation of Homo habilis left around. They generally nag and have very similar characteristics that annoy. The kind that can just wake you up just to send you to a shop that is only 1 minute away. The kind that always complains, they never see anything positive in anything you do. The kind that believes much in seeing you outta the house every morning and in every evening. So long as you are not there at home heaps them with comfort.

The kind of people that think technology came with all the negativity. They do not believe in any soft job, and will be bothered sick if they see you in front of a computer all day long, even if you are making million worth deals they won’t just understand. They believe in everything physical, a physical job with an office, of merchandise that you are selling even if you only make 10 bob a day, or the fact that you do not spend your time at home ‘idling on the computer.’

I have a bad taste for them. Maybe they do too to me. The whole family is just damned, from aunties to uncles. They will probe and probe, ask questions that really don’t add zest to your life nor theirs, they just want to be seen that they can argue. I don’t give a damn by the way because that sucks. They will idolize something that happened long time ago, or something that just happened, drag you in there and demonize you. I mean something has already happened, what is the essence of discussing it the whole day as if it is going to reverse the process?

It is a mere wastage of time and resources. They are the people who are holy and righteous always. They will see the speck in your eye and never see the clogged logs in their eyes.  They can accidentally break a glass, and no one will question them because it is not an offense.

You accidentally drop a glass and miraculously it survives the heat, you will have to leave the house for a while. That is a mistake.

‘Endelea kuvuncha tu sote. Ifo ndo mmefanya mkavuncha kila kitu.’

‘It was just bad luck dad.’

‘Kwani wewe ni mtoto ndo tuseme eti ni bahati mbaya?’….and so on. You can’t apologize enough. He will go on and make your day horrible. And they will never forgive you, nor forget it because it will recur next time you cook half cooked ugali. And there you attract trouble again….

‘Si gilasi, si ugari, kwani una nini?’ you pretend you did not hear that and carry on. If you decide to partially take interest you will be trivial and you will storm outta that house immediately and make a week long disappearance.

They are the people who wanna seat around and order you to do this and that. They will give you instructions even to the most basic things. I wonder why they can’t lift their ass up and do them things as they would wish. When someone gives instructions on how to do something, especially my pap and uncle, you get worried, simply because that there is trouble. You get worried that you may underestimate yourself and do the wrong thing, or still overestimate yourself and blunder.

You see the kind of shit I live in is compact. It is tough pile of shit that sometimes you wanna not come into contact with. The shit that makes you believe that you are totally naïve, and more worse that you are a pile of shit. They do not acknowledge what you do and they are bothered much with even the nitty gritty matters of your life that doesn’t add up anything to my life.

In other words they can’t let you live your own life. When you are around them you just feel like you just got into another life sentence in a more controversial circumstance. You wanna avoid them sometimes. Of course they are our parents, but they hardly behave like one. They do not act like they are our parents. They do not care much about how much they contribute to your life but all they wanna see is abundance of positive results.

In many occasions they do not understand anything like being nice to your kid. Every time they want to collide with you, even when you are comfortable in your own skin because you do not feel like talking. They whine, whine and whine and whine about everything you do. They aren’t appreciative at all.

Honestly, living alone somewhere in the wild or somewhere far from people close to you can be the best ordeal.  Family and relatives can be the main source of your problems in life. They can be the source of your stress, distress and depression. They can be the source of your rude behavior, they can be the source of your sadness. They can kill all the motivation in you. They can simply castrate all your efforts towards a better life.

I ain’t saying that all of ‘em are that nasty. It is just a feeling that I have. I got blissful cousins and siblings and aunties. But some of the relatives are just a pain in the ass. They will aggrandize what you are trying to mitigate. And you will never have peace in your life ever.

In the near future I will just move to some far place, away from some people who won’t give me peace. It is better to live with people that hardly know you, because they will have no trouble with your life.

On that note I am celebrating my birthday on 24th of this month which will be on Sunday. I guess was born on 25th of May some many years back when life was life. When you could go broke and you get rich by a walk. There was plenty of money, even on the road, there were no banks for people to hide their money and that is why it could get lost anyhow.

During those days people hid their life fortunes under their mattresses, they did not have to go and line up in vain for hours to access their money. Things were easy and life was generally bearable. Things like chapatti were favorite meals, a big deal that was the talk of every big occasion like Christmas and New Year. It was a delicacy like no other.

Beef and chicken were unheard of, and only the aforementioned occasions gave them full meaning. Whenever a chicken was slaughtered everyone would crave for the thigh, only both of them to be preserved for the head of the family. He ate the liver and all the good parts of every animal or beast that went down in that homestead.

Those times are gone, and nowadays people eat chicken (fattened ones), with no bones, any time they wish. All they have to do is to walk to chicken inn and order a full chicken for themselves. Chapatti is no longer a delicacy, pizza is. People have eaten a lot of fatty stuffy, they ain’t fit any more, and they are unhealthy and heavily diabetic.

I wonder who came up with pizza. It a piece of expensive shit I have ever wasted my money on. It overrides the common translation of badly cooked food given a swanky name. And it boasts over nothing. It is full on nothing but spices and stuff flour that can make your stomach rumble kama yenye imetumwa.

During those times people never used to celebrate their birthdays, iyo ilikuja na meli. I’m not referring to the times of my dad and aunties because that was back then when humanity in itself was heavily dependent on mediocre practices that gave no rise to personal capacity. It was time when traditions meant something spectacular and had to be followed through every thick and thin, regardless of who you were. Or you could get cursed or haunted.

When we were born things were a little bit different. The large pieces of land were getting subdivided while mzungu had taken the fairer share. It was no more the source of pride in our homesteads. Parents started to see the essence of the white man’s education; they sent their kids to mission schools to get enlightened, and also to save them in the future when the land they used to pride themselves in was over.

And I, Mzangila, of all the people was one of them. Many years down the line, now, here I am. Hidden in the white man’s cloak I pursue his foreign ways, the decent ways to personal freedom and gratification. I have embraced every form of modernity he has placed on my palms and I have taken it to another level.  Though I wonder the intentions of this man, if they were really genuine or ulterior. Either way he stole from us,  made us to believe in them, worship them and also opened our eyes to civilization.

So I will be celebrating in style. Last year one of my readers, when I was actively involved in a blog known as campus-mirror.com, generously bought me a huge cake worth 7,500 bob. I am sorry that we ate it the two of us only. It is one of the sweetest moments of my life. I had an indoor celebration.

This year round I have no idea. No reader is ready to help me celebrate. I wanted to make it an activity that will qualify to be in the charts of history, now that I am celebrating it as a blogger and not like any other nigger. If it does not go down this weekend then the weekend of 31st will be perfect. I am turning 40 years, because even if I told you I was turning 20 you wouldn’t believe me. Nkt!

I should expect happy birthday gifts as from today. If you cannot manage to make an appearance then ensure that you send your contribution to help others celebrate. And for those who will be willing to attend, just give me a buzz and I will give the directions. But the location is Muthama, a few kms from Kawangware. Lord knows why I was not included in the Real Housewives of Kawangware.

It is just a day in the life I live.


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About Mzangila

Mentor, media consultant, photographer, editor, poet, writer, and counselor.

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  1. Homo habilis generation kweli. thot I was the only one with nasty relatives

  2. Did you just call them pain in the ass… ! They definitely got into your nerves. Try distance and time – they work wonders. Because you’ll need them one of these days.. in a way you won’t understand.

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