Nice Guys verses Bad Guys

Nice guys finish last because they put their ladies first. – Anonymous

She was dating a pilot, a very wealthy one at that. She knew he loved her and would do anything for her. He was the perfect boyfriend. He would not even entertain the thought of cheating on her. She knew she was lucky to have him. He did not drink. She knew her competitor was Arsenal, a team he was passionate about about. She could live with that. He was a nice guy.

On few occassions, he would invite me to accompany her girl and him to a rave. I was a friend and colleague to the girl. He was a gentleman, the kind of guy another guy would think girls would date but we all know how nice guys fair on in the dating fraternity. We became good friends, not good enough to be boys but good enough for us to hug the way bros are supposed to hug. Not the way Kemboi hugged that French dude though. That is how the girl you have missed hugs you.

She lived in Ummo. One time, he had gone to visit her and someone unsuccesfully tried to steal his range rover’s side mirror. I do not know how much that thing costs but it must cost the same as a vitz and a year’s supply of fuel. He decided that his girlfriend would not live in an unsafe neighbourhood. Within a month, she had moved to Nairobi West in a fully furnished house. Her birthday was a few weeks away, and she got a car as a present. She was living a better life than her boss. And then she got pregnant!

They say that everyone is an aethiest until she misses her periods. As a guy, I have never understood Aunt Flo. Most girls hate when she visits and if she delays for a week, they get all worried. As someone else said, you know you have grown up when someone tells you she is pregnant and your first response is “Congratulations” rather than “isht, what happened?” After telling her congratulations, I had to use a seat to digest what she told me next.

As I was still picking my jaw from the floor, her boyfriend calls me. She whispers he doesn’t know yet. He wants to meet me urgently. That evening, we meet for drinks. Tusker for me, Fanta Orange for him. He tells me that he has reason to believe the love of his life is cheating on him. When he suspected, he asked guards to tell him of people who frequent her place. I was one of them. There was someone else who had spent the night in the house he is paying rent one too many times. He had pictures. I knew him.

The first thing I do when I get home is to call her. “What did you mean you are not sure who the father is?” was my hello. She owns up to cheating on her boyfriend with another colleague of ours. The guy I saw on the photos. I am too angry to talk to her. Her boyfriend was too good a person to be treated that way. I hoped the kid was his.

She tells both of them separately that they are to be dads in about 38 weeks to gauge their reaction. She starts with the pilot who is very excited. He thinks she should move in with him in Karen because his child should have a father figure around. The side dish suggests abortion. And that is when all hell breaks loose. The girl goes ahead and tells him he was the side dish and that the real father of the baby is a rich pilot and other unmentionable insults.

I will never understand women. I do not know what the side dish did, which witch doctors he went to and what they gave him to give to her but he must tell me one day. Within two weeks, the girl had warmed to the side dish that ladies in the office who knew part of the story loathed her. The pilot on the other hand had known the side dish was a colleague of ours, and that sort of put me between a rock and a hard place because I had denied knowing him when he showed me his picture. That as it may, he had bigger problems to deal with. His girlfriend had not picked his calls for three days – as soon as she found out he knew actually – and I was “on leave.” The thing with one lie is that you have to come up with another to cover up for it.

I decided to sit her down and ask about her game plan. Somehow, she had decided to stay with the side dish whom she was not even sure if he loved her. She was not sure she loved him too. He was a bad guy, the pilot was a nice guy. And again, bad had truimphed over nice in this unfair world. At that point, my fist made contact with the wall at a speed that would rival that of light. Something had to be hit and I was not going to hit her. I felt sorry for the guy. Just then, the side dish interrupted our meeting. We did not like each other and I never cared. Now, I hated him even more.

Tell him I will pay back everything he has done for you!” was his salutation. I felt that was the joke of the year. His salary was less than the rent the pilot was paying for her every month. The bigger joke was the girl falling for that nonesence. In no time, the pilot was calling. “Tell him we shall pay him everything!” she said, handing over the phone to the side dish as I slapped myself to see if I would wake up. As I left the room, I could hear the insults the side dish was throwing mainly because he had decided to proove he is a man by raising his voice. What surprised me was that she did not stop him. And knowing the pilot, I am sure he just sat thare and listened. A few minutes later, the side dish left in a hurry with the keys of the car the pilot had bought her. Apparently, to return it.

Where is the happy ending part, you may ask? As long as it is a nice guy verses a bad guy, there is none and there will be none. Bad guys win again as nice guys help Jepkosgei in finishing last.

THE DAY’S QUOTES:

1950: I want to show you a night out under the stars by the lake. Wouldn’t that be fine? 2012: Here’s a picture of my shaved cock. – Anonymous

That is the last [curse word] time I take dating advice from a muscle that pumps blood throughout my body. – Anonymous

I’d suck as a Christian because there’s no way I’m not ending every prayer with “…and please kill the [curse word] out of shitty people.” – Anonymous

Friend Zone – A Guys Guide To

What is a “Friend zone” (n)? This is the phrase (I have no idea who should get credit for coining it) that describes the point of the relationship between a male and a female that offers no progression beyond what is – ‘just friends!’ 

And so by extension and association, to “Friend zone” (v) is the act of putting one into this ‘box’ of ‘just friends!’ 

Friend zoning can be very frustrating and deflating, especially if the party being friend zoned was hopeful of ‘something more’. To the party ‘friend zoning’, I assume it easier to take in. I, however, doubt it’s just that easy.

This guide is from the male’s perspective so it may not be applicable for the females and is by no means definitive. All of the points mentioned here are all from experience – not just mine, but of many guys. You could view it as a preemptive approach to being ‘friend zoned’. Like they say, There are many ways to kill a rat – I subscribe to the method of making sure the rat is not born! 

So here goes – Friend zone – A Guy’s Guide To 

Be nice, be very nice

I could end this guide with just this one rule as all the others actually branch from this but I suppose I need to expound on it. 

You’ve heard it all before that ladies like nice guys, that’s always on their checklist. Truth is, they don’t like nice guys as partners … as husbands and best friends … Yes, just not boyfriends – this is a preserve of the ‘bad boy’. How they expect the bad boys to somehow end up being ‘nice guys’ once they are married is a mystery. Remember the line, “I can change him”? Well, we all know how that turns out.

 I have a theory on this, I think they prefer “bad boys” because ‘consistent disappointment is easier to handle than the occasional ones’ that nice guys come with, no matter how minute they maybe. Nice guys present them with a high standard that once they subscribe to, even a little tardiness will come off as a colossal disappointment. Nice guys are, more often than not, reliable and hence the slightest whiff of “disappointment” is cataclysmic by comparison. So you get them loving the ‘bad boys’ through the hurts and love they do. “Mr. Wrong” by Mary J. Blige ft Drake shows just how much they hold on, despite their knowing how wrong it is.

Being “Nice, very nice” will inevitably put you in the friend zone – guess who they’ll run to when they are in the hurting phase of her relationship? Preemptive strike One!

 Make the lady’s folks (brothers, sisters even parents) like you

As you can tell, this is only possible if you are “Nice, very nice” and genuinely so. By genuine I mean actually having genuine concern about her well-being. Being in good terms with her folks all but guarantees that she’ll friend zone you. Going against the folks is a mark of independence so as much as she may like you, the fact that her folks like you, kind of forces her not to consider you. Preemptive strike Two!

Her boyfriend should be your friend too … so much he considers you “safe” to hang out with her. This is a hard one and is advisable that you don’t go making it happen. If it happens, flow with it. If not, leave it at that. Point is you being a comfortable enough friend to her that she can mention you to him and he doesn’t get worried. This is not only a preemptive strike but safety net for you – you don’t want to be stabbed.

 Always be there for her, check up on her dating… how she’s doing, they are doing… be a good listener. – “Always” is a big word but it only means whenever you can, you be there for her when she calls on you. Especially in her low moments. Hang out, movies, coffee and stuff doesn’t hurt. This is just being “Nice, very nice” in detail. She can’t consider, at least not usually, you as more than ‘just a friend’ when you do all this. Preemptive strike Four!

WARNING:

 1. As much as she wouldn’t go out with you, she won’t take you going out with another quite well. She may become hostile to your girlfriend but maybe she’ll like her. No way of predicting this – just prep for both the best and worst.

 2. Never ever say you like them IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM. If she were a status update, don’t like it! Say you “don’t dislike” … something just not that you like her. That will take you from ‘friend zone’ to outcast … enemy territory even!

 NOTE:

 The more perceptive of you will have picked up that this is another way of outlining what NOT to do if you do NOT want to be ‘Friend zoned’. So, take it how you see fit for you. This is not an exhaustive list, just what the ‘experiences’ common to me.

 An excerpt from an upcoming book, “A Guy’s Guide To Life” by EveryGuy for Everyguy … available soon … in your mind! ha!

The War Against Cancer

Cancer is a journey, but you walk the road alone.  There are many places to stop along the way and get nourishment – you just have to be willing to take it.  ~Emily Hollenberg

I have never been scared all my life. Forget aliens people, we may have more problems on our hands and I am not even talking about poverty, stupidity and stupidity (the latter has to be mentioned twice due to its abundance). Early today as I was busy doing nothing and basically just minding my own business, my eyes stumbled on mcgothic_‘s tweets. For those who may not know much about her, myself included, she is the self proclaimed chairperson of team forever alone. Not only that, her 15 year old niece has been ill but doctors have been doing tests to determine what was wrong. Finally, the results came in. She had a cancerous tumour and her ovary had to be removed. Problem is the cancer has spread to her urethra already.

 

How is that for a first paragraph, and I am not even done yet. Last week, milonare‘s dad passed on. The culprit? Cancer of course. The week before last, Caleb who had been battling leukaemia before losing the fight was laid to rest. And the week before, I had to go visit a former colleague who is battling rectal cancer. Now, tell me how in anything’s name I should not be scared to the bone.

 

According to a policy brief on the situation of cancer in Kenya, over 50 people die of cancer in the country everyday. Add to the fact that both of the Ministers in charge of health matters in the country were both diagnosed with cancer, then the problem is probably bigger than it seems. My view is that the human race is losing the war against cancer. I do not think we have a chance of beating cancer if our efforts are more on curative measures rather than preventive. However, it is not known what causes cancer. Scientists only know of factors that enhances the risk of one being diagnosed with it.

 

The question I have to ask is, is there anything we can do to fight this disease? I think yes. Personally, I will try and understand it as much as I can. The basics that is, or what I need to know. In the process, I will be throwing whatever I learn here in posts to come. That is my first bullet to the menace. Hopefully, I will find myself other fighters out there and we shall take on the disease like it takes our cells once it attacks. 

THE DAY’S

Bonus: The World Cancer Day is commemorated on my birthday. I think that is the only sign I need to sign up for this war.

I SAW HIM

I saw him….playing silly games,
and i was six.
Sometimes he wanted to play father,
when i was mother.
Or hold the rope,
and let me skip.
Other times he sat with others,
and made fun of me.
I cried and hid behind curtains,
and hems of mother’s skirts,
Because my emotions,
too young to comprehend.
Was he friend or fiend?

I saw him again.
And i was thirteen,
Almost a woman.
And it was showing.
When the tiny mounds appeared,
and my chest began to hurt.
He teased me again.
Yet he too had bumps on his face,
and a croak for a voice.

We parted ways four more years.
I was away where they wore matching clothes.
And slept in metal squeaking beds.
And he never appeared there.
I never thought of him.
Only saw him in books.
And read about the things he could do.
Like make babies grow in my tummy,
love me like his only,
yet hurt me like his enemy.

Then one day he held me in his arms.
When the four years were gone.
And i was in another institution.
Gently like the last raw egg, then squeezed harder.
Till i could take it no more.
Left me raw.
And i freed myself from his hold.

Now i am done with institutions.
I wake up in the morning,
jewelled and made up….adorned.
And leave to make money….my own.
He still comes and goes.
Squeezes me a little more till i cringe.
And i fear he might break me.
There are no more tears to shed here.
I am a woman…..grown.
No institutions.
No hem of mother’s skirts.
So before i break gradually,
in his arms. Fiercely.
Before my heart slams shut.
I will let him go along.

©Ado Yiembo.

Copy and pass ”I SAW HIMaround to your hearts content but always post my copyright notice above correctly both as courtesy and as a legal necessity to protect any writer. Thank

I MISS HIM

I miss him,

When he wasn’t too exhausted after work,

Remembered that these lips were for him,

Held me as i slept,

and i lay upon his chest,

Because he didn’t smell of sweat,

Having let the day his strength exhaust.

 

I miss him,

Without a single care,

Smiles with none to compare,

When we could talk till dawn,

Fuss and laugh about nothing.

 

I miss him,

No worries, no woes,

no medical bills and electricity receipts,

No landlord at the gates,

No insatiable people called family or  school fees to pay.

 

I miss him,

Noisy Friday evenings,

Crazy Saturday afternoons,

and quiet hungover Sundays.

When we drank all night and forgot to give thanks,

Till our fingers trembled.

and intoxicated bodies rejected nutrition.

I miss him,

Now on his forehead are furrows,

For he constantly worries,

Thinks about work and bills,

His fingers still tremble,

Not after a night of fun or passion,

But because they need,

A burning stick to calm his nerves.

 

Now he is angry,

No longer talks and laughs about nothing,

We fuss,fight about everything,

Now he is no longer ticklish, irritable,

His complements rare as his smile.

 

Now i wonder if he still thinks i am beautiful,

Or my place has been taken by offspring,

I wonder if he still stares when i walk away and sway my hips,

If he still thinks my breasts move in rhythm with my stride,

If my smile still makes him stare

and he tells friend and foe that i am his.

 

Now i wonder if he watches me sleep,

or sees me in his dreams,

I wonder if he looks forward to coming home,

So he can see me,

Feel my moist lips,

Caress my naked breasts,

Bask in the warmth of my thighs,

Or sighs when the clock strikes five,

and only comes home so he can rest.

I miss him.

©Ado Yiembo.

Copy and pass ”I MISS HIMaround to your hearts content but always post my copyright notice above correctly both as courtesy and as a legal necessity to protect any writer. Thank you.

Utopia That Does Not Exist?

By littleGiniK

I was once talking a walk with two male colleagues going for lunch. The cafeteria happens to be quite some distance away from the office. I was carrying my handbag, the laptop and heavy books, while my colleagues had their hands in their pockets. At some point I stopped and asked them how they could possibly be walking by my side and not offer any help. One of them was quick to retort, “You are the ones fighting for gender equality, why should I help you?” We got into a long argument about gender equality. Suffice it to say that he did not offer his help, at least the other colleague offered to carry the laptop.

This incident came to my mind last week when there was heated argument on twitter about whether it was right for a woman to support a man, following the infamous story of a woman who was found dead in her apartment and who it is said had been involved with a well known former TV anchor.

This debate had me thinking a lot about gender equality. This expression can be quite misleading. I like to think that gender equality refers to equality of dignity and opportunity between men and women and especially equality to participate fully in public life, political, professional and social sphere. Let’s face it, men and women cannot be equal in their respective sexual nature, they are quite different. They are not equal but complementary. There should therefore be no question as to which of the sexes is superior. One is either a woman or man by birth. In each case that person will be superior who manages to develop the characteristic virtues of his or her own sex overcoming the defects which are considered peculiar to the same sex.

A man has always been expected to provide and protect, a woman to care for others. A man is expected to be strong, brave, sporty, a woman gentle, tender, feminine, modest. A man has more muscle, a woman more heart. There are things a man will do and get away with even though they may not be so good. If the same things were done by a woman, she will come off looking worse. A man is expected to provide and support his family and a woman to care and nurture hers. The constant bickering between the sexes has resulted in them seeing each other as opposition rather than complementarity. This has led as, Cormac Burke in his book “Man and Values” states, to a disruptive feminism or “masculinism” obsessed with a struggle for power which tends to reduce all aspects of men-women relationships to opposition.

It is not uncommon therefore to see men fight with women to get in or out of a bus, or a man being ‘kept’ by a woman. On the other hand, women have become so defensive that any affront from a man is believed by them to be a show of superiority of sex. There is no better demonstration of this than on our roads. It has also led to an uncomfortable situation where men refer to all women as ‘ladies’ because they’re afraid the word “woman’ may offend.

While it is commendable that feminist movements have endeavoured to correct the many abuses of preceding centuries, it must be noted that equality cannot be right down to every aspect that concerns men and women. The differences between the two sexes should complement, create a harmony, and not compete. Which man would appreciate a woman who had a moustache and hairy legs? And which woman would respect a man who does not show a certain strength, the capacity to face difficulties in a positive way, initiative especially of taking full responsibility of his family? A man can constantly find inspiration in what is feminine; a woman in what is masculine.

A world that does not encourage men to be more masculine and women to be more feminine is a poorer place for growing up in, for learning to be human . C. Burke.

* I attribute the title of this post to one of my followers.

Operation Get Maoga A Smile

This post was originally posted by savvykenya here

 

To understand why I am doing this, please read this post: I Need Your Help.

Maoga is a young man from the previous post who had his jaw removed during surgery to remove a lymphatic tumor.

Maoga with his mother before surgery

After the surgery, I visited him at Kenyatta National Hospital.

Maoga at KNH after his surgery

Today I have spoken with his father. He tells me the surgery to replace his jaw will cost Kshs. 150,000. Yesterday night, the informal settlement he is staying at in Nairobi was demolished by the authorities.

Even if I do win the Kshs.50,000 (I’m told votes alone may not be the judging criteria), we’re still short by Kshs.100,000.

It is because of this that I have decided to ask for your help: MPESA. Send to the number 0727 832685, it’s my number. I will give you a full report. If 200 people reading this send Kshs 1000, that’s Kshs.200,000. If 1000 people send 200 bob each, that’s still Kshs.200,000.

P.S. If you are a blogger, please REBLOG and let’s commence operation Give Maoga a Smile.

For other readers: RETWEET, SHARE on your FB walls, send your 2 cents, do something.