@Blogs

Goodbye 2017 - Bikozulu

10 months ago, 19 Dec 10:57

By: Bikozulu

I didn’t post anything last week because I was thinking. I was seated at my desk at home, leaning all the way back in my chair and staring out the window dreamily. I have a massive wall to wall window that overlooks the verandah of the neighbouring apartments. There was a bird standing in the opposite balcony. She had just done her nails. She was leaning on the balcony, balls of cotton wool stuck between her toes, rifling through her phone. I could hear her nails dry. She couldn’t see me through my sheers, but I could see her which technically made me a peeping Jack. She had on her house clothes; tired-looking track bottoms and a well worn t-shirt. She had a physicality about her that seemed to magnify in the sun. My mind drifted. I thought to myself, I would like to run away to some place. Some place far away. Some place with a beach and an old boat with paint peeling off the sides. A boat that is constantly moored at the shore and gets slapped slapped by waves. Sometimes children play in it. Sometimes it gathers puddles of water when it rains. Other days a bearded, wiry old man sits there, sucking on a homemade cigarette wedged between his bony fingers, looking out at sea through eyes that look cataracted. A boat whose owner nobody knows. A boat without a name. But I can’t run away to a place like that now because our coastline is now choked with Nairobians on holiday. Do you know the most common thing guests at hotel buffets at the coast say in the mornings now? Come on, don’t be lazy, guess. “You look familiar.” And this is when you are waiting for your waffles to be done. Another person from Nairobi in his beach shorts. Now you have to stand there with your waffles growing cold as you guys run through all the places you might have seen each other. Maseno? No, I was in Moi…uhm, Caribea? [It always goes back to bars] No, I don’t go there, well maybe once for Gogo’s birthday last year. Gogo? The one who sings? No, that’s Gogo Simo. This one is Gogo, just Gogo. He’s a farmer, or rather, he farms for people who are too busy or too posh to get mud on their shoes. His company is called (www. tukalime.com] That’s an interesting concept. [He turns to the chef] Yes, omelette…. everything but ham…just a little green pepper. Yeah, that’s enough. Make it well done. [Back to you] Do you work at KCB? No. Do you? No. But I bank with them so I thought maybe you are a teller. Haha. No. I don’t count money. I spend it. Haha. Boss… Queens? You go to Queens?! Er, No. Is that your daughter? Nah, I don’t even know whose kid this is. But she is calling you dad… I have never seen this child in my life. She’s been following me ...
Read More


Category: blogs bikozulu

Suggested

@Blogs

Goodbye 2017 - Bikozulu

10 months ago, 19 Dec 10:57

By: Bikozulu
I didn’t post anything last week because I was thinking. I was seated at my desk at home, leaning all the way back in my chair and staring out the window dreamily. I have a massive wall to wall window that overlooks the verandah of the neighbouring apartments. There was a bird standing in the opposite balcony. She had just done her nails. She was leaning on the balcony, balls of cotton wool stuck between her toes, rifling through her phone. I could hear her nails dry. She couldn’t see me through my sheers, but I could see her which technically made me a peeping Jack. She had on her house clothes; tired-looking track bottoms and a well worn t-shirt. She had a physicality about her that seemed to magnify in the sun. My mind drifted. I thought to myself, I would like to run away to some place. Some place far away. Some place with a beach and an old boat with paint peeling off the sides. A boat that is constantly moored at the shore and gets slapped slapped by waves. Sometimes children play in it. Sometimes it gathers puddles of water when it rains. Other days a bearded, wiry old man sits there, sucking on a homemade cigarette wedged between his bony fingers, looking out at sea through eyes that look cataracted. A boat whose owner nobody knows. A boat without a name. But I can’t run away to a place like that now because our coastline is now choked with Nairobians on holiday. Do you know the most common thing guests at hotel buffets at the coast say in the mornings now? Come on, don’t be lazy, guess. “You look familiar.” And this is when you are waiting for your waffles to be done. Another person from Nairobi in his beach shorts. Now you have to stand there with your waffles growing cold as you guys run through all the places you might have seen each other. Maseno? No, I was in Moi…uhm, Caribea? [It always goes back to bars] No, I don’t go there, well maybe once for Gogo’s birthday last year. Gogo? The one who sings? No, that’s Gogo Simo. This one is Gogo, just Gogo. He’s a farmer, or rather, he farms for people who are too busy or too posh to get mud on their shoes. His company is called (www. tukalime.com] That’s an interesting concept. [He turns to the chef] Yes, omelette…. everything but ham…just a little green pepper. Yeah, that’s enough. Make it well done. [Back to you] Do you work at KCB? No. Do you? No. But I bank with them so I thought maybe you are a teller. Haha. No. I don’t count money. I spend it. Haha. Boss… Queens? You go to Queens?! Er, No. Is that your daughter? Nah, I don’t even know whose kid this is. But she is calling you dad… I have never seen this child in my life. She’s been following me ...
Read More

Category: blogs bikozulu

Suggested

Our App