The Amazing #WithEyesWideClosed Novel Launch!
Synopsis:
Amira is a glamorous TV star. Despite her talent, a sex scandal is what explodes her to fame unexpectedly..The Amazing #WithEyesWideClosed Novel Launch!
Synopsis:
Amira is a glamorous TV star. Despite her talent, a sex scandal is what explodes her to fame unexpectedly..The Amazing #WithEyesWideClosed Novel Launch!
Synopsis:
Amira is a glamorous TV star. Despite her talent, a sex scandal is what explodes her to fame unexpectedly..The Amazing #WithEyesWideClosed Novel Launch!
Synopsis:
Amira is a glamorous TV star. Despite her talent, a sex scandal is what explodes her to fame unexpectedly..The Amazing #WithEyesWideClosed Novel Launch!
Synopsis:
Amira is a glamorous TV star. Despite her talent, a sex scandal is what explodes her to fame unexpectedly..The Amazing #WithEyesWideClosed Novel Launch!
Synopsis:
Amira is a glamorous TV star. Despite her talent, a sex scandal is what explodes her to fame unexpectedly...
Nairobi has a certain air of promise. Especially if you are a jobless graduate. It is magnetic and optimistic.
There is always a deal around the corner—a tender here, a business breakthrough there. Even street language teems with hope. Kuomoka. Kuondoka/kuchomoka block. Siku moja fomu itajipa. There is a hope that somehow, all of us, by some magic alchemy, we will become rich.
In between, you may land a good deal. But the waiting period for the next deal can break your heart as a man. You can lose your wife, children, girlfriend, mpango, and everything you own as you wait for the next deal. Or for the government tender to be paid.
I look back on my more desperate days before I started hawking books. Used to be called to these meetings. High-end hotels. I would sit across top government or NGO folk discussing strategy. Or Java. Art Café. Or the swankier ones in Kilimani, Lavi, and in the many malls that dot Nairobi’s greener and leafier suburbs. I would leave the meetings thinking of what car to buy, what neighbourhood to move to, or where between Machakos or Kajiado outskirts should I build my city home. Kamulu has a certain repellent quality while Kitengela has a certain secure and sunny charm. I could even call my Kisii girlfriend and we could discuss vacation ideas. Because I was talking to guys who make decisions about how the funds of government or the NGO they worked for are moved. By the way delusion is a very bad thing.
Back home, I would hammer out a proposal with my business partner (back then, there was no ChatGPT). There would be pages upon pages of proposals and PowerPoint presentations. Proposal safi kama Kelly Rowland.
And then, the waiting would begin. The big man will stop picking up my calls. Blueticks. Painful. Grey ticks are even more disrespectful. And boy, once you start chasing these big men, you can lose your soul. You befriend their PAs and secretaries, who will update you about their moves and there whereabouts, when you can meet, etc. But licking ass of big men is nasty business. When I hear that you guys eat ass, I don't even know how y'all do it but stop it.
Do women also have friends in high places that they simp for?
Because in the corridors of big men's offices, I only bump into men. And the only women I see in the corridors are their mistresses who have express access or some odd woman who wants some CDF or something.
And then, there are jobs to apply for. You apply until the day comes when you no longer want to apply. Because job applications are just PE. And LinkedIn is honestly full of poop. Ever applied for those UN jobs that need 4 hours? Or those you apply via LinkedIn, and then you manually have to fill in your details on some digital forms and submit your CV. Sometimes you have someone in the right place to put in a good word for you. Except that your person doesn’t have enough flex, and thus the boss will fix their niece there, far younger, far less experienced, and that is the way the world works.
Another six months have gone by. No business. No job. No deal.
And then you see a tender. You know, people who can swing you the tender. Then you do paperwork. Tender paperwork is ridiculously laborious. Last time, I printed almost 300 pages, spending my last supper money on it, betting on the connection to get the tender. Then you get that appetite and do like ten tenders. You get none in return. Later you learn that the big man in the department has shell companies with his clandes, nieces and nephews that they use to cart the money away. You are humbled.
And now you are 37. It has been three years since you last had a good deal.
Or you are 29, five years since you graduated, and have no job or deal in sight. Now, dating and marriage are indefinitely suspended. If above 37, you are probably divorced or will be divorced sooner rather than later.
This period of stagnation, where you wait indefinitely for a job after graduation, is called Waithood. If you are an adult, it is called Stalled Mobility. Millennials in Kenya, especially those born between 1986 and 95, have experienced difficulties changing their socio-economic status. There hasn’t been upward mobility. Instead, there has been a lot of downward mobility. Most of my friends who, just a decade ago, used to lend each other sums up to Sh 100,000 and would dispense with it like it is pocket change, nowadays we are down to asking each other for Sh 100-500 for kabej. The economy has wiped out many marriages I knew, and all the memos we have written don’t address the elephant in the room: the economy. It is rough on women. Rougher on men. The Kenyan economy started collapsing in 2015, and the effects were being felt as early as 2018-19. Covid-19 accelerated the situation, but saved the Uhuru government because everything could be blamed on Covid-19. Ruto has no such luxury; he is badly exposed.
So, we now have two cohorts: younger adults in their mid to late 20s-early 30s with no job prospects, and now they are missing out on all markers of adulthood, marriage, and home ownership, as well as career or business progression. The other cohort in their late 30s and 40s who have gone through a good fortune, enjoyed a good corporate job, Nairobi-type deals, and business, had a good marriage, and even a family but for the last 3-5 they are stuck. Same job. Or sacked. Same neighbourhood. Or downgraded. Stalled mobility has either shattered their lives or everything good they ever had.
So, we have almost three overlapping generations, born 1986-93, 93-99, 2000-2005, who are now lost generations. Already, nothing short of a miraculous intervention can save most of them. Pushed to the end, a revolution may be inevitable. But revolutions rarely solve problems. They level the playing field, and everyone starts worse, save for a few who may gain from the ruins.
Kenya still has a chance to turn things around. A Kibaki-like figure with a greater inclination for nationhood instead of narrow ethnic interests and far less corrupt can change our fortunes and unleash the country's full potential.
Otherwise, Waithood and Stalled Mobility are with us for a long time. And if you sing “kumi bila break”, you will cry and gnash your teeth until 2040. Sadly, we don’t get any younger to experiment with our lives under lazy and inept leadership.
I really don't want to sound like a genius in 2030 when you look back and remember when I told you that Kenya Kwanza is not an option in 2027. Three generations are at stake. Don't trivialise this. If you intend to vote Kenya Kwanza kindly block me and delete me from your life.
This is a matter of life and death.
Hate me or love me.
Happy Birthday to Me! I'm grateful to the almighty for this far.
Today, I'm reminded that I should keep working on myself because it is easier to tear down others than to work on improving myself.
You will not believe who has just walked past me like a minute ago!” Mikaya breathlessly says.
“Justin Bieber,” Amira responds, not taking her seriously.
“Mscheeew! Your husband and your boyfriend!” Mikaya whispers over the phone.
https://t.co/fmbFFHgUBy
“I, I, I…” Natela falters.
“You don’t even know who the father is?” Aunt Rhoda asks with a sarcastic air.
“I didn’t want to; he forced himself on me!” she whimpered. “Wait, what! Did Someone r*pe you? Is that what you are saying?”
A thread👇
“Did he drag you to his house?” She asks flatly.
“NO!”
“So you’ve been having a good time with my man while living under my roof & now have the nerve to tell me you are pregnant!”
“Was it the first time?”
“No, I mean yes!” Natela stammers.
“You’ve lost count, huh!”
An addicted brain is a broken brain.
If you're struggling with any addiction and want to do something about it...
Here's "Andrew Huberman's" protocol to overcome addiction.
- A Thread -
“Tihihi! Liar!” She says as she jumps on him unexpectedly. “Now carry your own problems, tall man.” He breaks a thin sweat as he tries to hold her chubby frame.
Story by @ericBgichuru FOLLOW!
art by #jonquelart .
Excerpt from #WithEyesWideClosed Novel
“Babe, do I look fat in these clothes?” She asks.
“Noo! Noo! Babe.” He says acting surprised, knowing very well that she’s grown sensitive to her weight with the pregnancy.
“You think so?” She asks not convinced.
“You are just made for cuddling, just the way I love it...” 1/4
“Have I ever complained about your height babe? Anyway, you are tall in the right places.” She adds as she gives him a naughty wink.
“Is that you blushing?” She pokes him…
“No, I’m just wiping the speck in my eye” He lies.