it is night. the city is divided. moi avenue. the cool air and quiet streets. tom mboya street. commotion and a deluge of humanity. even the women/ females/ girls are different. i guess its the presentation. a cousin comments that i always notice alot of uptown.
i turn this about in my mind. i love my ghetto girls like am richie spice. the girls not from uptown – see what am doing there – seem to exaggerate. maybe they all are dramatic as they come from extremes of each other. speech, dressing, make up, hair and walking styles. they are all human , crying out for love by their acts of overcompensation.
the transition between uptown and … downtown (sigh) is sudden. the gap between poor and the rich is the crux of the matter, i might as well let off with it. say i overthink. the higher you go the cooler it becomes; that elementary geography. it is so hot in kariobangi north baba dogo compared to upper hill or south b. its the trees, isnt it? (sema ‘question tag’ 😉 )
the children also have quite divergent perspectives. it doesnt take a genius to figure that out. churchill live’s ‘totos corner’ is a good start. sets of adolescents converge outside f2 as others descend on a ngong road mall. observe closely and eavesdrop
for a long time i’ve been a suspicious-looking-character i never knew whether it was my face or my shoes; what gave away my criminal intentions? i ditched my safari boots but still up to date eyes follow me – ‘akufukuzae hakuambii toka!‘. (methali :P). (s)he who chases you doesnt tell you to get out
once, i was summoned to the security office at campus to explain the loss of my room mate’s possesions. i was found guilty of negligence having been accused of leaving the door open. no evidence. the sentence was monetary and material compensation. casio scientific calculators arent cheap. and, dear nephew & niece flex (boy) and beryl (abby) the brand new blue physics textbook by abbott 6th edition, yeah, lets leave it at that.

wiser, i bought an anti-janitor/master key lock and gave him a key. what’s the price of a second hand bag and the last hand written letter of its kind – a girl’s – that i had ever received? their final or only question i remember,’where do you live?’ i did not betray you eastleigh. a train is screeching in my ear
society imposes insults. bear
scars, ajos. scars! am so sensitive; uptown knows ‘ob‘ and downtown knows ‘mpank‘. so, cousin, are you still surprised at my uptown ‘alert’? onward. people are amazed that i read books. in eastlands they’d rather read people. i think that is more scary. the heart of man is most decietful says the good book
a man says, ‘ son, the rich are different from us!…’
‘yes, they have more money!’, says the son bitterly
for ajos


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