Author: Eddy Ashioya
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Nai ni ya nani!
0558hrs. In the horizon I can hear boda boda guys urging a sleepy town to wake up and go vote. I am on Wanyee Rd, heading to Toi Primary School, just off Ngong Rd, one of the main arteries that feed the heart of Nairobi CBD. Ngong Rd hardly ever slept but then again Ngong…
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Uko na Borehole? House (and Water) Hunting in Nairobi
And yet the jerrican-syndrome is a familiar site in Nairobi, and not just in the sprawling Eastlands where I lived after campus. I stayed in the infamous Pipeline Estate, aka Pipu, that place where Breeder LW raps in Kalale: “Na usiache ndula nje na tuko Pipu…”
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Sellebrity: Fame Versus Electability
The celebrity as a politician is officially a thing (preceded by the bizarre the-politician-as-a-celebrity epoch of bling bling hookah smoking honourables). And so many are abandoning the mic as they seek to blur the line between showbiz and the once-upon-a-time hallowed halls of power, with most riding solely on name recognition more than anything else.
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Alcohol Enemas: The Dangerous Way to Get Drunk
Vodka tampons or butt chugging (used by men to introduce alcohol into the rectum via the anus i.e. as an enema)—depending on what you call it—allows the alcohol to bypass the liver’s filtering and metabolic processes so that the ethanol drains straight into the bloodstream via veins to the vena cava. It is, in other…
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47 Random Thoughts on Bandana Ya E-Sir
Bandana Ya E-Sir is a let-down. There is nothing about E-Sir in this song. The lyrics are dirty. Disappointing, even. E-Sir was more than a bandana. Sure, it was his signature look, in the same way I don a hat, but there was more to the man. This doesn’t feel like a tribute, more of…
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NAIROBI: A City As A Construction Site
The capital city is a ringstrasse of dust and cranes. Everywhere you turn, there is either a road under construction or a pavement being done. But there is more than meets the eye, because, due to a combination of poor planning and/or management, Nairobi lacks adequate space for way leaves.
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Going Up In Smoke: Just One Last, Last Ciggie
Cigs may seem sexy. However, I can’t date a smoker because I have enough chimneys in my house, despite craving the thrill of the high. Oh, it’s not what they advertised in Hollywood. After my initial puffs, my tongue felt tasteless, like a plumber’s wet handkerchief. In my mind, I had expected that after the…
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My Beef With Kenyan Weddings
I am at that age where adulting is doing that weird thing to me. All I want to do is get married. And if murmurs from my workmates are anything to go by, I make for an awesome office husband, whatever that means
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Believe It or Not, Embarambamba Is Us
We are the chicken thief, condemning the egg thief, sounding like the man wearing a balaclava at the scene of a bank robbery with his pockets filed with banknotes,