Wednesday, 10 April 2013

My cairn for Wahome Mutahi

Years have wound off since the ace Wahome Mutahi or Simba of Slopes and other aliases, kicked the bucket. May Ngai award him much fun? Ni wega muno Ngai witu. I can't wait till July 22 the day Wahome passed away.
I used to like, love even hate Wahome or son of soil who is asleep in the womb of his mother-cum father in Munungaine county in the country of Mount so and so Mafia.
Yesterday I dreamed him sipping Kanywaji at Mwihiguro pub in Kawangware. The other day I dreamed that we're together in Lamu or the land of mermaids and mnazi as we're looking for Khadijas to marry disguising we’re still bachelor. As if.
I'm not  new to Kenya especially Nairoberry and Mombasa. But looking at the whole hunk of Wahome on Mombasa, I found myself re-dreaming of the land of mnazi the liquor I like so much and majini-genies alias imaginative creatures I fear so much. Those that do not fear them let go there and hit cats at night. Have you ever heard of waniumiziani weye? As the cats wonder and asks: why are you humiliating and hurting me?
Going back to the son of soil alias Simba of Slopes, I have some worries about the man and the estate he left behind. Does someone there know what is going on pertaining to Pajero, Thatcher and Whis Junior?
How many do care even to touch base with these creatures through which Wahome made many smile and sometimes hate their images?
We used to smile and laugh due to what Wahome cooked for us. Who cares to even touch base with his widow whose whereabouts I don’t even know? Guys, bin-Adams sometimes tend to behave as if one day they’ll never return the number to their creator!
Guys, when Wahome was not past tense, we used to smile every Sunday. Now that he is no more, many smiles on our living faces went under with him. But will even our memories go under with the man? Do we really know what legacy really means? Shame on us all! Did we really love Wahome or his food for thoughts and spices for laughter?
Shall this happen, indeed we'll be thankless and evil so to speak. Gone's Wahome but not his estate and legacy. Can Daily nation and The Monitor think of doing something about Wahome?
I for one, to do something about the Warrior Son of Soil, will be spawning my talk in the commemoration of the man. Shall I not fit in his shoes; I propose: you all laugh at me. Laugh at me till you cry for joy of laughing at me. First of all, those intending to laugh at me should note: Wahome was my brother- the Son of the Sister of the Sister of my Great-great Grandma who married a Kenyan Muthamaki. I know these good at laughing at others will start laughing at me for saying the late was my bro. They're dead wrong. Who knew Kenyan Baraka Hussein Obama from Kongero gichagi would be a blood relation of George Bush? Guys this is the world of DNA.
The sinless should be the first to laugh at me. For me, to forget Wahome makes all that used to enjoy his world sinners; if they happen to forget him.
Now that the dust is settled and the big man from the slope of Gatundu is enjoying his while thanks to a new constitution and the science of voting along tribal lines Kenyans need to focus ahead. Mark you. I am talking about Moi Kibaki the foe-turned friend of Daniel arap Mwai.
As Wahome would put it, what happened recently resulted from the cursed opponents who would like to see Kenya sinking into chaos under certain foreign forces. If not, why then when elections were stolen in the big nation whose head answers to the same names like thicket, Forest, Bush or Waititu, Githaka and others people did not kill, rape or humiliate others?
More on Wahome, rich as he's for having an investment in Pajero, Whis junior, the warrior in making and Thatcher herself, I have my Lucy-Tyson. I also have Wambui who instead of being an investment is loss making. How couldn't she if the Margariyans have already "atturred" her? As for my son, he is more like a girl than a warrior.
Whilst Wahome feared his Thatcher simply because she was iron lady, mine is renowned for clobbering even beating all people with loud mouths or tongue wagers without forgetting camera men.
My family lives everywhere the republic of Nyayo in Nairobi, Kakamega, Kisumu, Mombasa though it may be permanently stationed in either Lavington or Kawangware Nairobi.
In the commemoration of the man whose head had lost its manure so as to let the grasses cascade to nowhere- Wahome Mutahi.
By the way, I've this problem. You know what? My Lucy-Tyson who also is my bedroom partner wants to know as to why I switch off my handset every night even though she does the same. I told her that if I ever receive a call at night, many enemies of our faithful marriage would take the chance to saw oats in order to see us separated so that they take over. What would you tell yours? One thing, to outsmart her, I shall make sure all addresses in my phone are of men only even if the real owners are skirt wearers.

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