Darkness is a mystery. It carries so many uncertainties. Thievery and robbery is mostly carried out in the dark. Murder is also carried out in the dark. That’s why most of us cannot walk in the streets when it’s dark and lonely because you never know what lies ahead. The dark also carries some fun. The best clubbing experiences happen at night. It would be awkward to go clubbing during the day. Sleepovers too happen at night and they are fun. Darkness is inevitable in the case of day and night but it is sometimes a state that one can be in.

I don’t know for how long I have been unconscious but by the time I wake up the sun was no longer peeping through the small room’s window. I guess it has shifted position and from the heat that I am feeling it must be around midday. My armpits are sweaty and so is my forehead (someone once told me that I have a fivehead! I don’t feel bad though. I’ve shed a teardrop). I’m a softie and I have been on a cold floor the whole time, so I coughed despite me feeling heat and even sweating. It is midday but the room is dark because it only has a small window that is far above me. It also smells like a toilet but I hope they put me in a store. Or maybe there is a toilet next to this room.

Despite the sharp pain I am feeling in my head as a result of being hit with the gun, I struggle to lift my feeble body up. I stretch out my hands and touch my way around until I get to the door. I knock hard hoping that someone will help me out and at least give me food. Yes, I know I have done wrong but I am starviiing. First round of knocks, second round, third round. No one opens the door. After the first round of knocks I heard some footsteps running away from the room. The door is hit hard and I am ordered to stay calm.

“Kijana tulia!”

“Mkubwa niko njaa sana. Niletee angalau kakitu katulize minyoo.”

“Kaa njaa ndio ukose nguvu ya kusaidia bwana za wenyewe kufanya kazi yao!”

Wow! COLD! SO COLD! I am now convinced that they want me dead. Haikuwa kupenda kwangu ata. Felicia should be the one to be punished. She tricked me into coming here and seduced me for crying out loud. I don’t even know where my phone is. I’m trapped with no link to the outside, no food and with only my trouser on. If I’m to spend another night here I might walk away and go hang out with my ancestors. The events from last evening replay in my mind, moment by moment (or in a photographer’s language, frame by frame). Maybe if I have the gift of prophecy I would have given an excuse and just go to my house instead of following the woman.

By this point I don’t even know what time it is or for how many hours I’ve been awake. I just wish for food or death. Both will save me. I am unaware of my fate. Maybe Felicia’s husband will torture me then send me to jail! Maybe he will let the dogs eat me alive! Maybe he will shoot me dead! Or as I thought earlier, maybe he will let me starve to death! What I know for sure is that I will be among part of the statistics when they talk about mysterious disappearances. I know that death is painful but I never wished to die this way. If I do not die and get sent to jail then my future will crumble. Plus from all the rape stories I have heard, I also wished to never find myself in jail. Let me just stay here and wait for whatever will happen. With all this hunger I cannot even push away negative thoughts.

A key rattles in the keyhole. The door opens. A big bellied man takes up most of the space between the frames. A guard stands behind him. From the way the sun is shining, it must be late afternoon. I hope they have brought me food.

“I thought you’d be dead by now. I was coming to collect your corpse. Now that you’re not dead I’ll be forced to kill you and dispose your body! No one messes with me and continues living!” roared the round man.

If someone puts a stethoscope on my chest and connects it with a speaker, then the pounding will make some good beat and those that are alive with filled stomachs can dance. I do not even have the energy to utter a word.

” Put him in my car. It’s time to take the trash out!” he orders the guard.

I am roughed up and frog marched to a big black Land Cruiser Prado TX. At least I’ll have a luxurious ride before my death. I have no energy left in me to struggle or fight. I guess they notice this so I am not tied up. The big man gets in the driver’s section and starts up the car. He then gives me an evil look, takes out his gun, cocks it and returns it to its pocket on his waist. I am going to die a rich death, though mysterious. He drives away.

The drive leads us far into the countryside. From what I can decipher from the surrounding, we must be in Naivasha. I’m going to die in one of my favourite places. Nice! I dig my head into the headrest and close my eyes. I silently pray and repent my sins before we arrive at my final resting place. I hope that God is not like Tala. I hope He will not refuse to forgive my sins and say I owe Him. I know He is not like that so if I repent I might get a chance to enter Heaven. Amen. The car comes to a stop and I hear the sound of the handbrake being engaged. We must have arrived at the bush where I will take my last breath.

“We’re here. This is it!” said big man.

He opens the rear left door and helps me to hop out the car. I throw glances around. We’re not at a bush. We are at a parking slot. This must be some cultic church and I’m going to be sacrificed. Big man holds me by the shoulder and leads me to the back of the building. This church is beautiful and so big. They have disguised it to look like a hotel. There are a number of people eating, drinking, swimming and children are playing. I thought people in cults look disturbed especially now that they are in a place where the demons are free to torment them. Oh wait, it’s a hotel. I saw its name written on a big golden plate on a wall. Hello big man, you’re supposed to kill me, not take me out. I’m not your wife. Are you gay? Maybe he wants me eat so I cannot die hungry. Okay that’s humane. At least I’ll go to heaven with a full stomach. Wait for me angels, I’m coming to dance my ass off.

Big man gives his order and gestures me to follow suit. All this time we’re silent. Our eyes are busy surveying the area. The food is brought and we munch it slowly. I hatch an escape plan in my mind. As soon as I regain energy I’ll dash out. I’ll run in between people so that they can be my human shield in case he decides to open fire. I’ll then dash past the open gate. I know this fat man will not have managed to appear and tell the guards to stop me. Perfect plan! Hello El Professor from La Casa de Papel. I have learnt your ways and I’m also a mastermind. Regards, your student.

Big man breaks the silence halfway into the meal.

“I know you’re wondering why I have come to feed you instead of kill you. Maybe I do not want you to die hungry. In fact I have no intention of killing you. Yes, none at all.”

Wait what! Your food must be drugged. Look man, you’re supposed to kill me or act like you’re going to. I have a plan to execute.

” You did good by doing what you did with my wife. You’re heaven sent boy. You have saved my life. I owe you big.”

This man must be intoxicated. Snap out of your state dude! I banged your wife! Your beautiful wife! How are you grateful for that? You should be mad! Kill me!

” Felicia and I have been married for a decade now. All along I thought she loves me but I was mistaken. She loves my money and the good life she is living courtesy of me.”

Big man continues lamenting about his wife. In my mind I cannot get the sense in the story. Even if the wife doesn’t love him at least he has a very beautiful woman to himself. A woman fit to become a sex symbol. So it’s a win-win situation. The mind of a young man can be stupid.

“I am tired of living with her and I was looking for any slight thing to use as an excuse to file for a divorce. You’re my saviour boy. I’m now going to file for a divorce and the good thing is that she will not get a share of my property. She will only get what she has gotten herself. Exactly what I wanted!”

He continues telling me how he feels betrayed and useless and fears for his property. If he dies before divorcing Felicia then she will inherit all his property. That would be unfair to the man because, from his stories, he worked so hard to get to where he is. We continue chatting into the night. He tells me that he has poor vision so he cannot drive at night. We have to spend the night at the hotel, in separate rooms of course. He assures me that he has no intention of harming or killing me. After having dinner we head to the bar section. We have some drinks and dance for some hours before retiring to bed in our respective rooms.

I have never had such a peaceful night’s sleep. Maybe it’s because of the cosy bed that’s different from the rickety one in my house. Big man passed by my room after breakfast. We sign out of the hotel, get into his car and head back to the capital. This time I sit at the front since we have bonded and he no longer wants to kill me. The drive was not as quiet as the other. We exchange stories and actually this makes the journey seem shorter.

We get to the capital and head into a tower with office blocks. Big man ushers me into some executive office with an expensively furnished interior. He peruses through some papers and writes or signs something, I’m not sure. I’m confused. I just look blankly. After he is done he hands me the papers. Maybe it’s the divorce papers he has been storing. Maybe it’s the divorce proposal that he had written and he wants me to go through it and tell him what I think of it.

A look at the papers and I think I’m intoxicated. Must be the alcohol from last night. No, this can’t be! This is impossible! This only happens in movies and fantasies! I pause for a moment so I can process the information. I must be in a dream that seems so real. Someone pinch me, slap me, punch me. Guess what? The man has handed quarter of his property over to me! This includes a beach house, another mansion in a leafy suburb in the city and one of his hotels at the coast! His lawyer walks in and signs the papers. It is now confirmed! I am a multimillionaire in minutes! AIM Global affiliates will be jealous when they hear such a surreal success story that is better than the ones they tell.

“Receive my token of appreciation for saving me. I’m forever grateful. I hope you manage it well and grow more. Welcome to the Big Boys Club.”

I slept a poor man and woke up a millionaire. It seems like a wish granted by a genie.

Fast forward years later and I am a successful mogul. I used my Solomonic wisdom to multiply the wealth handed to me. My wealth now is vast like the ocean. You can’t see the end. I’m among the people that never worry about ever being broke again. No matter how recklessly I spend my money, I cannot deplete it (Maybe if I decide to buy the earth). I own cars I only dreamt of and saw in pictures, music videos and movies and the big man is among my closest friends. Sometimes blessings take the form of a mistake.


Life is a journey. Journeys are part of life. ‘Journey’ and ‘life’ have appeared in statements together. They’re ‘twinning’. Imagine how animals and prisoners feel like being confined in one space for almost their whole life.

Wednesday, 21 August 2019, 7 PM. I’ve just boarded a bus heading back to my small mansion somewhere in Thika. Using public transport is some kind of mystery, for lack of a better word. You never know what will happen or who will sit next to you. Heck, in some cases you don’t even know whether you’ll reach safely. Anyway as the Swahili saying goes, simba akikosa nyama hula nyasi. Since I don’t own a car, let me just continue using this unavoidable option. Ni life anyway.

I was among the first passengers to board this bus so I decided to match this by sitting in one of the front side seats. Of course I sat next to the window. Man’s gotta let his eyes explore the outside. I took out my new fresh-out-the-box Airpods and fixed them in my ears. You know it’s rare to find a public transport vehicle with music that I like. Playlist on, zooms out of the world.

Passengers continue trickling in. I’m glued to my phone, not chatting but going through my blog website. Someone sits next to me. This person has consumed all the remaining space and the huge body is almost squeezing the skinny me out the window. In my head I was like ah si mtu akinona anunue gari yake kabla ya kutufinya huku na hatalipishwa fare extra. I take a quick glance to see who this space consumer is. Oh my……! Waah! Did some angels sneak out of heaven and quickly took human form to avoid being busted? Next to me was a ‘yellow yellow‘ mama who appeared to be in her mid thirties. Black shiny well maintained hair, smooth flawless skin that could hold me captive because it was nyororo and some scent that tempted me to turn into a sniffer dog. I take back the statement that was in my head. It was the meat from her hips and thighs that was pushing me against the car frame. Nifinye kabisa. In fact songa songa hivi, naona unafungia watu njia juu hujakaa vizuri. Of course I didn’t utter those words. I know I shouldn’t view a thirty-year-old lady in such a way but hey, give credit where it’s due. Plus I’m a man, a young flourishing man, so it is normal to be attracted to a good looking feminine figure.

I pretend to be so busy writing an article like I haven’t even seen her. Fast forward twenty minutes later the bus is full and it roars away. Two paragraphs down, more to go. The only time I took my eyes off my phone was when I was handing my fare to the conductor. I’m so antisocial so I usually drown myself in my phone often. The few times I’ve been phoneless I’ve felt like I was in hell. The Ministry of Education should include socialization classes that will be tested and included in the performance sheet to help anti-social people like me.

Vijana hizi simu zenu ziliwaroga.” What an ice breaker!

Ni vile naandika kablog story. Nimepata inspiration saa hii tu.”

“Aah wow! I thought unachat tu. That’s a positive thing you’re doing. Ata mimi niko na blog site yangu. I love writing features. Pardon my manners, I didn’t even introduce myself. My name is Felicia.”

“I’m Mark. Pleasure meeting you.”

She actually got me to talk and we got to know more about each other. We even exchanged contacts! Kijana wa wenyewe ameanza kucheza na wamama. She happens to be the Personal Assistant to one of the prominent figures in the country. I’m already getting to know people and I haven’t even started working in my field, journalism. She also happened to have a house in Thika, where her family was.

Quick break. Remember when I told you you never know what can happen when using public transport? It was some form of accidental foreshadow. I’ve to stop my writing for a moment at this point because the bus I’ve boarded has been involved in a minor accident with a 14 seater matatu. I guess we could call that a PSA. No not public service announcement, public service accident. No injuries recorded though.

Felicia invited me over to have a look at some of the articles she had done. It was 8:30 PM, the night was still young so why not pass by her place for some minutes before going to my place. She was to pick up her car from one of the garages in Thika Town so she could even drop me at my house. Furthermore going to her house translated into free supper. I hate cooking. Apparently by passing by her house I had nothing to lose.

When we got to Thika she phoned her mechanic who brought her car to where we were. A sleek matte black Mercedes C63 AMG approached us and slowly snaked to a stop. Its sound was sweeter than my girlfriend’s. This was the type of car that has necks breaking after it passed. The interior was just exquisite. The leather seats, the infotainment system, the fresh unique scent, everything was just breathtaking. Her taste of cars was as good as mine.

After a ten-minute drive we got to her place. A castle like, three storey, sunset orange palatial home with a gate that stretches to the clouds and an armed guard who had a big dog beside him. The interior is furnished with rare high end furniture that I assume is imported. They look nothing like the local furniture.

“Karibu sana. Feel at home. NANCYYY NJOO!”

Thank you. You have a very nice house.”

Thank you. Can’t say much, it’s God’s blessing,” She said with a big beautiful smile on her face.

“Shikamoo ma. Shikamoo kaka.”

“Nancy tuletee chakula na kajuice.”

Ndio ma.”

Felicia disappeared upstairs. The domestic worker some food that made the worms in my stomach bite harder as they salivated (if worms have saliva). Felicia must have employed a chef to be her kitchen manager.

“Shukran.” My parents taught me to always appreciate when I’m offered something.

Felicia came back with her MacBook in her hand.

“Here. This is my blog and some of the articles I’ve written.”

We had supper as I went through her blog site and as we conversated too. Where are our table manners though? After reading some of her work the MacBook died down due to insufficient power.

Uuhm charge imeisha.”

“Usijali. Charger iko huko juu. Juu umemaliza chakula twende tukaiweke kwa moto ukionanga pia vile nyumba inakaa.”

Okay, wow. She’s trusting a stranger to that extent? Anyway I might get motivated to work harder and get my own palace. Can someone tell me to check the time?

She ushers me into an all ensuite room. This room is larger than the size of the house I live in! She shows me where the charger is and I plug it into the MacBook. I look at my worn out watch. It’s midnight! What the…!

“It’s midnight! I should get going.”

“At this time of the night it’s not safe to even drive. The house is large. You can sleep in one of the rooms then go in the morning when it’s safe to do so.”

I tried to convince her to drop me off at my place but I finally gave in and agreed to spend the night there. Why would someone allow a stranger into her house and convince the stranger to spend the night? Could I have fallen into the trap of one of the cultic followers who carry out human sacrifice? Or maybe she’s a drug peddler who has found someone to enroll into her ring?

“Endelea tu kusoma articles.”

I jumped back into the article pool to try and push away my fears. I was not even aware of what was happening around me. I did not notice Felicia walking away, changing her clothes and coming back. I come back to my senses when she sits next to me. I look away from the screen to comment and whoa! She is next to me, dressed in nothing but a revealing black night robe that exposed part of her mammary jewels and her smooth thick yellow thighs. You know what happens when men see such.

“Your uhm articles are really good. Maybe you could teach me how to get better at writing.”

“Sure thing. I’ll be glad to do so but not today.”

I don’t know if she noticed any change after I saw her in the robe.

We continued talking, the conversation getting deeper and deeper. The modern saying, shit happens, got meaning. I can’t explain what went on but I had coitus with Felicia, on her marital bed! This was the first time I had gotten to that level with an older woman. Anyway it was bomb sex, best I’ve had so far. As I sleep I am a very satisfied man, though guilty of what we’ve done.

A beam of sunshine punched through the window and into the room. We woke up at almost the same time. After some seduction we had some morning glory. I swear I could do this all day. It was a great sin for us to have sex considering our age difference and her marital status but the sex was sooo good I felt my spirit struggling to remain in my body.

Pleasure on pleasure levelling up. I don’t know for how long we had been having sex when boom! the bedroom door is flung open. We both stop and look in surprise. It was her husband who was supposed to be in New York for a business meeting! Holy shit, I’m dead, finished, kwisha!

“Babe, you’re back! It’s not what it looks like. I can explain.” Felicia tried to convince her statue-still husband who has turned into a ball of fury.

I only had time to put on my grey pants before a guard whisked me away and locked me up in a room at the gate. Using the butt of his pistol, he hit my head and I became unconscious.


Hello reader! It’s been slightly over a month since the last post. I’m sorry for the silence but I’ll try and be more consistent. In this post I want to write about people and character, according to my experience with people.

First impression. What’s this? First impression is one’s perception about a person or thing upon first contact or experience. This is what one thinks of a person and their character when they see them for the first time. First impression plays a crucial role on someone’s treatment towards you. However, this can cause you to misjudge someone and their character. I’ve also judged one or two people wrongly and I’ve equally been misjudged, but I try as much not to derive someone’s character from the first impression.

I’ve had this discussion with some people and they opened up on their first impression about me. Some said I look like a proud person, a focused person, a nerd, a silent person, a boring person, an angel(๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚) and some said I look like a fvckboy!(You joke so much sometimes๐Ÿ˜‚). At some point I was so into people’s perception of me that I did not know myself. It made me feel like an empty shell with a lifeless dark pit for a soul. Through the help of some close friends I later came to know myself, that I behave according to the situation or environment I’m in. I’m different persons in one body. I might be quiet around someone/people I’m not close to and be so noisy and annoying around someone/people who we’re close(Anyone who is observant in my class has noticed this). Sometimes this is interpreted as pride but to be honest I find it hard to start convos and to socialize with new people. I know there are other people who are like this. Maybe not many people but quite a number of people are like this. According to me, these are the most misjudged type of people. If I’m not wrong, this is an ambivert character.

An ambivert is a person who is an introvert and an extrovert too. A person who falls between the two worlds.

Being an ambivert is a blessing and a curse at the same time. At least you get to experience both worlds but one of the worlds can weigh you down heavily. The introvert side can you seem like a proud person with a ‘feeling myself‘ attitude, an antisocial person or a lowlife. The extrovert side can make you seem like an annoying person(kiherehere), a proud person or in some cases a wannabe.

As an ambivert the judgement is like a chain that ties one so tight to a post. This can lead to seeing oneself as useless and not following your interests and talents. The split personality of ambiverts makes them multi-talented and good at what they do. So any ambivert reading this should hold themselves high and know that they are equally competitive in this modern day society. Wear your crown with pride and know your worth. I cannot promise you that the judgement will stop anytime soon but anyway, no matter how good you are you’ll always be bad in someone’s eyes.

Whether you are an introvert, extrovert or ambivert, try as much as possible not to judge someone especially by first impression. If you get a chance, hold a conversation with the person no matter how silly it will be. This will help you know the person better and you never know, a great life-long friendship may be formed, great ideas may be exchanged and both of you end up bettering your lives. If you easily socialize and blend in with people, be the first to talk to that silent person. You will greatly help this person to boost his/her self confidence and feel wanted. You can go a step ahead and teach the person one or two tricks on socializing. If you’re a person who finds it hard to socialize, say a simple hi to that new person. With time you’ll slowly get over your antisocial nature.

Swallow your pride sometimes and be the first to take a step. Let’s help each other. Help the introverts and ambiverts instead of judging them. Let’s boost someone’s esteem when we can.


A young man somewhere struggling with himself and fitting in the society. His dreams scream inside his head. If you see him giving them attention you would think he is under brain control. Stories of who he was as a child is different from who he is currently.

He was jovial and smiled at everyone without caring whether they are good or bad. The type of baby whom everyone wanted to hold. Everyone’s favourite baby.

Smiley character. Life taught the boy that smiles are hidden sometimes. They don’t go well with everyone. Angels and demons are mixed up. Love and hate are in one drink. One side your smile is essential, the other side is allergic.

Boy got into the fabrics of society. He learnt different things about life. Not everyone is a friend, not everyone is a foe. Not everyone is fake, not everyone is real.


The man has decided to give a shot at this. His story will be covered in future posts.

This short post is just to open up the door to more content.

Stay tuned