I resonated with the below extract from VSB blog. That inspired me to do a VERY short compilation of some awful/bad sex stories

2. The f*ck buddies who don’t even really like f*cking each other

A couple years ago, a friend told me about an arrangement she had with a guy who’d come through once a week, have a couple glasses of moscato with her, and then would proceed to have terrible, awful, unbearably awkward sex with her. They both hated it — apparently he once fell asleep while she was on top of him, woke up, gave a couple more pumps, and fell back asleep — but this “relationship” continued for a couple months.

Thinking that this friend was an just a sad anomaly of coital despair, I told the story to another friend, who expressed that she also was in a similar arrangement — a full NBA season (seven months) of awful sex. When I asked her why she continued a friends with migrant worker benefits arrangement, she replied “I don’t know. I guess I just liked the way he smelled.”

1.poop????????????really?

I was fifteen. My first boyfriend had talked me into giving him a blowjob, his and my first one. After some hesitation, I began and everything seemed to be going as he described it would be. Half way through, I noticed my chest felt really warm and wet. I looked down and to my horror, there was an indescribable amount of diarrhea covering my white shirt. To this day, I'm not sure what happened. Of course the real fun part was when I had to left my t-shirt over my head to get it off.

2. French poop????????? lmao!

A few years ago, my French bf-at-the-time took me to Paris to meet his family....His mother, a haughty Parisienne who believes that her only son is GOD, and that no girl could possibly be classy enough to deserve him. Their regard is mutual - he worships her as much as she worships him.

One evening after a champagne-soaked dinner, she left to go to the theater. Expecting that she'd be gone for several hours, we started having regular sex, and then anal sex, on a couch adjacent to the table at which we'd had dinner. Things kept getting hotter, and my b.f. started f*cking my ass with the slim end of a champagne bottle. This felt good at first... but then I realized that something felt off. I slowed him down in an attempt to understand what on Earth my body was doing, and I realized that my bowels were moving. And I kind of realized that it was too late to stop what was happening.

At this already Godforsaken moment, we hear a key in the door and his mother pops into the room. The bitch had forgotten her shawl or something. So there I am, naked, on her couch, while her son, also naked, is holding a champagne bottle that is obviously deeply embedded in my ass. We shriek, and he yanks out the bottle. And immediately out comes a LARGE, dark brown, smelly piece of poop. It just rolls out - this felt like it was happening in slow motion, and I kept trying to stop it but I couldn't - and lands on her couch.
The French boy and I broke up shortly thereafter. I dumped him - pun intended.

3. RIVERBLOOD

I was "manually prepping" him and thought it was weird that there was so much precum. Eventually, I flicked on the light to grab a condom and he said "Oh my god, you're bleeding!" I started freaking out. How could this be?! I just got off my period. My hands, stomach and thighs were COVERED in blood...but my nether region was clear. Then, I look over and I see blood literally GUSHING out of the head of his dick. I was so freaked out I just yelled "YOUR DICK IS BLEEDING" and ran out of the room....

He was more mortified than I was...if possible. He told me about a month ago, he was really wasted and zipped the head of his penis in his pants. Being super drunk, he couldn't dislodge it, so forced the zipper down/yanked his dick out. He then passed out to later find himself on a blood soaked mattress. The doctor told him he needed stitched to close it back up, but didn't do it...leaving both his penis and me scarred for life.

I could be doing a lot of stuff but I'm too lazy. I'm giving myself permission to just enjoy the day and part of that enjoying the internet. It's been a busy week of marketing, sales and worrying so today I relax after acquiring myself anew contract to manage a client's social media.

On my way to the meeting pitch for the client I saw something so bizarre I'm still shocked. It's actually quite common in Nairobi for sales men and women to board buses and start promoting their products in booming voices. Usually my music saves me but today I'd forgotten my earphones so I had to endure what I find to be a nuisance. This lady was dishing out pills for free! This was part of her promotion! More alarming people were actually taking these pills. It boggled my mind. You left your home and suddenly some stranger just offers you medicine and you're like 'sure why not?' The young lady next to me was just as surprised as I was. I mean you don't know what those pills are and their effect on your body!Next she had a plastic bottle like the ones used for water. It had some clear liquid which she was selling. These were to clean the blood which has 'chemicals'. It was such a load of crap and people were lapping it up like she was some qualified medical practitioner. I even took her photo and number thinking I'd report her but I'm too tired to be bothered.

That aside below are some funny, sarcastic, profound or simply interesting stuff from my lazy wandering in the internet:

Tommy: “Okie dokie. So, since I’m not supposed to listen to women, ever, what should I do?”

Champ: “Pay attention. That’s it. Pay attention to what they respond to. Pay attention to who they say they need to stay away from. Pay attention to who makes them nervous.

And, if you want to get specific, if you’re interested in a particular type of women, pay attention to the type of men that those women always seem to date. For heaven’s sake, don’t ever f*cking listen to a word any of them say about what type of men they find attractive, but watch closely, read, observe, assess, and act.”

I think sometimes women confuse the two; we want the (__insert whatever the hell here__) type man but we really just need someone who understands us…and still choses to stay with us in spite of ourselves.

Naturally Alise on 08/30/2011 at 9:40 am said:

“And a lot of �I always� and �I nevers� can be nuetralized by the right place/time/person.”

This is why I have given up on having “a type.” There is so much complexity that goes into attraction and retention of a mate. Not an exact science at all.

MicTheMessenger on 08/30/2011 at 11:51 am said:

I also agree about complexity being a turn on. I like having to figure someone out. Unless I don�t like what I�m seeing, then he goes back in the box and I take out a new puzzle.

…well dang, what happens when you figure them out? Do you frame them and hang them on the wall as a reminder that you’re good at figuring ish out? Do they sit on your dining room table for eons cuz youre too lazy too frame them? Do you break them down and put them back in the box, losing interest for all eternity?

I’m curious as to why i asked myself these same questions as i typed them…

TheAnti-Cool on 08/30/2011 at 9:00 am said:

Maybe he has an inner beauty. Like his bone marrow is ruggedly handsome or something.

Mahogany Princess on 08/30/2011 at 11:21 am said:

Maybe it was his decomposing liver that was of interest. Or maybe some were intrigued by his ability to be unattractive at all times. He was ugly no matter the angle, lighting, or effects. Somebody found that attractive. I mean take Hoops for example, no matter big or small she likes ugly.

Come on People on 08/30/2011 at 9:52 am said:

I absolutely love this article!!!! Yes, you are right, the unexpected is much more desireable. I remember telling my mother I would date a guy that smelled good and ugly over a man that was funky and cute. Reason why, you can put a bag over someone’s head or even close your eyes much longer than you can hold your nose…lol

Reply ↓

.

Psalms 71:19-21
"Your righteousness reaches to the skies, O God, you who have done
great things. Who, O God, is like you?
Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will
restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again
bring me up.
You will increase my honour and comfort me again."

That is what I'm clutching at to keep the panic at bay and drown the
unending scoffing and doubting voices around me. That is what calms
the storm within me. The fears that clutch at me and threaten to
immobilize me. The whole of that Psalm is so relevant to me but those
three verses were a straw today. May I one day achieve my dreams and
look back with tears of joy&gratitude rather than tears of shame &
bitterness.
I know whom I have believed, and I'm convinced that he is able to
guard what I have entrusted to him for that day

--
Sent from my mobile device

I'm a big fan of Very smart brothers blog and every morning I have to check it out as part of my routine. Today's post was on motivation. As I read the post and the comments I wondered what my motivation was. So I decided to try and put in in my own blog post. I fear this will be a jumbled blog post as I will be writing as the thoughts come.

I think currently I live and breathe my dream for fashion. My waking hours and my dreams are all about how I can achieve that dream and not just the dream of going to fashion school in Italy but actually doing fashion wherever I am and it being a success. This dream has required of me everything; all that I am thus fear is also behind it. The fear of failure and ridicule. The fear that perhaps I should have towed the line like the rest rather than thinking I am special. I do not think of myself as a competitive person or as a person in the habit of measuring my success in relation to others but I must admit our peers to give us a yardstick by which we check our progress whether we like it or not. In a sense that also motivates me, that not only must I catch up to the status quo, but I must surpass it and set a new one though not necessarily using my friends as a measure but rather my previous view of how my life would turn out. That ensures that once in a while I have nagging questions and doubts as to whether the path I have chosen is right and how I can ensure I do achieve my goals in a successful manner.
Fear of rejection is one of the biggest fear in my life. In WHATEVER situation the thought of rejection does inform my conscious and unconscious behavior. I have tried to psychoanalyze why this is so till I gave up. I wonder if in my childhood I faced a lot of rejection or I PERCEIVED that I faced rejection, but nonetheless the thought of being rejected leaves me cold. I'm not a fan of blaming everything on your childhood as it's a cop out. I read a book recently that simply blew me away; ― Steve Toltz, A Fraction of the Whole “Losers blame their parents; Failures blame their kids.” I agree. Nonetheless, I would rather convince myself that I do not want something than allow myself to be vulnerable and risk rejection. That said and done, I realised that was a self-defeating attitude and I try in most things to go against my very fiber to still be open to things and so despite this insidious fear I am still an adventurous person who tries all kinds of things for the sheer possibility that it could be Interesting. Which drives me to my other motivating factor, 'interesting'. I will try almost anything if I suspect it will be 0.00001% interesting. Someone said that most men want life as easy and comfortable as possible while most women want life interesting. I am definitely in that percentage. The pursuit of interesting is one of my biggest goals and drive in life. The thought of getting married in the same manner most people have my whole life, doing the job everyone else has, having the same 2.5 kids people have, is reason to jump off a cliff. Same applies to the men I'm attracted to. Is he interesting and sadly I find it hard to articulating what exactly that entails. I just know it when I see and experience it. It is why the thought that I've become provincial is killing me. There is a whole world out there with interesting things, foods, drinks, people and views that I have not experienced. I AM MISSING OUT. It should be noted that interesting does not always lead to fun or good experiences but it sure does beat boring.

My faith in God has motivated me much more than anything in my whole life. I am nothing without God as a reference point. My belief in God is at the root of my confidence and strength to move each and every day. It is what drives my engines. It is beyond my mind's comprehension how people live without belief in God. Honestly it baffles my mind. I know I can't survive without my faith in God, despite the proliferation of cynicism as an accepted and fashionable attitude when it comes to God. My very essence is from Him. All the good that is me is from Him and any redeeming quality that I may have is from him. The only person I trust to love me unconditionally and ACTUALLY does is God. The one who never tires to listen and encourage me.

Finally my other big motivation is the belief and desire to be different. I am different and that belief is so strongly embedded in me that no logic or evidence can remove it. One of my friends, a guy, likes saying I like rebelling against all authority and rules. While my first instinct is usually to go against rules, I do not most times. I also believe that we are not some robots to just follow rules for rules sake. It has to make sense to me. More than that the person has to have the authority to be enforcing these rules in my eyes; hence who are you? or you are asking me to do that as who? is a common phrase in my speech. More than that the answer to the question 'why?' usually determines my obedience or lack of it. Most people want to issue commands and expect immediate obedience. I do not work like that. Why I'm doing what I'm doing matters a lot. We are not sheep! it infuriates most people but I'm quick to point out that I am only protecting myself from authoritarian rule from anyone and frankly, stupidity out of lack of HAVING AN ORIGINAL THOUGHT. I am much closer to my mother than my father simply because my father believes in talking to me and explaining the rationale behind anything he requests of me while my mother believes in issuing orders and expecting no questions asked and instant obedience . To use a personality analysis a friend sent me sent me to show me how I am:

Portrait of an ISFP - Introverted Sensing Feeling Perceiving
(Introverted Feeling with Extraverted Sensing)

As an ISFP, your primary mode of living is focused internally, where you deal with things according to how you feel about them, or how they fit into your value system. Your secondary mode is external, where you take things in via your five sense in a literal, concrete fashion.

They need to feel as if they're living their lives in accordance with what they feel is right, and will rebel against anything which conflicts with that goal. They're likely to choose jobs and careers which allow them the freedom of working towards the realization of their value-oriented personal goals.

ISFPs have no desire to lead or control others, just as they have no desire to be led or controlled by others. They need space and time alone to evaluate the circumstances of their life against their value system, and are likely to respect other people's needs for the same.

While I did not agree with some of the other traits, I actually agreed with the above quoted applying to myself. Because I believe I am different I do not do things just because they have always been done. I do them because I like them or they make sense to me. It means I do not do some things that people think everyone should do like necessarily cooking for some man every day of my life like some servant. I have a fear of conforming to the norm and just being blah! The good side of my healthy love of being different is that I come up with creative things and my mind is able to think outside the box.

So what motivates you?

I REALLY need a boyfriend. Like seriously. Usually I'd be too ashamed
to even say that aloud but things are thick. I made out with a friend
I shouldn't. A guy I know so well, I often laugh at the girls he
dates. Some guy I was hooked up with last week is so nice & all but
i'm not physically or mentally attracted to him. In all counts,
there's nothing wrong with him but I feel nothing. All I feel is
resentful because I want him gone. I'm lonely but he doesn't meet the
criteria. It's not his fault so that leads to guilt then back to
resentment. Below all this is a nagging feeling that perhaps I'll end
up alone or if not that i'll spend many sunday afternoons alone. I
keep saying that that people never consider that they may never get
married. I do but what is inconceivable to me is not having an awesome
relationship, the definition of which requires another blog post. I
don't even know why I started this post. I mean there are 7 billion
human beings on this earth, surely. Maybe its fear driving me.
There's a real possibility my biggest dream is gonna happen. I want it
so bad but it also makes me question other stuff in my life.....anyway
time will tell

--
Sent from my mobile device

I have just come from one of the toughest but most interesting interviews I've ever had. As my pal said, I finally met my match in someone cynical, smart and good at deflecting questions while reading me in an eerie manner. Yet I also discovered I'm ok with the choices I've made. Last week I was so depressed at the outlook of my life but as that guy grilled me and I was defending my choices to do law yet not practice, do a professional course in accounting, do banking then quit, start fashion and now back trying to get back to the corporate world, I realized that I do stand by my choices and in as much as most people would see it as unfocused and not knowing what I want to do with my life. I don't. I simply don't. When I finished high school I did not know what I wanted to do but now I do. I may not have the resources to do it now but I'm clear and I stand my choice that life is not just one path. We are multi-talented and hence our interests should not be limited to one path just because it allows others to be comfortable. So what others call unfocused, I call open minded and adventurous. Does it mean each and every time I take a risk I will get a return. Certainly not but it's certainly worth it. That interview gave me back my mojo. That and the conversation I had with my mother. Needless to say, I'm ready for the next round of interviews. It is well with my soul

This is hilarious but another evidence of my character that when I'm open minded I can almost do anything. A couple of months ago I filled out an online dating profile. It was fun doing it but once I did it. I refused to interact with any of the matches who tried to talk to me. I could not even imagine the idea. I know a tease. but seriously imagining telling your friends 'we met online' or worse your parents. I shudder at the very thought.
So below is my profile without my picture and name of course:

Country of Origin: Kenya
Current Location: Nairobi, Nairobi, Kenya
Gender: Female
Age: 27
Star Sign: Libra
Height: 165cm (5' 5.0")
Body Type: Slim
Looks: Attractive
Hair Colour: Changes Often
Eye Colour: Black
Ethnicity: Black/African
Home Language: Ask me later
Other Languages: English; Italian; Swahili
Religion: Christian / Protestant
Marital Status: Single
Relationship Types: Just penpals; Activity partners; Friends; Open to possibilities; Short-term
Have Children: No
Want Children: Maybe

MORE ABOUT NYAKO:

Eating Habits: Eat most things
Smoking Habits: Non-Smoker
Drinking Habits: Occasional Drinker
Education: Bachelors degree
Occupation: Other
Income: Ask me later


Why should you get to know nyako?

I'm a bundle of contradiction. Very interesting once I let people in. My dry wit is something....hahahahA try
She describes her ideal match thus:

someone respectful,fun but mature, easygoing, physically attractive, healthy, strong values and intelligent, sense of humour, open minded,cool, confident

Her Ideal Match?
Country of Origin: Anywhere in the World
Current Location: (Moderately important) Anywhere in Africa
Gender: Male
Age Range: (Decidedly important) 27 - 33
Star Sign: Any
Height: (Moderately important) 165cm (5' 5.0") - 197cm (6' 5.6")
Body Type: (Slightly important) Average
Looks: (Moderately important) Average
Hair Colour: Any
Eye Colour: Any
Has Photo: Non-negotiable
Ethnicity: (Slightly important) Black/African; Latino/Hispanic; White/Caucasian; Mixed; Black/Caribbean
Home Language: Any
Other Languages: Any
Religion: (Moderately important) Christian / Catholic; Christian / Protestant; Christian / Other; Spiritual, but not religious; Christian / Orthodox
Marital Status: (Non-negotiable) Single
Have Children: Any
Want Children: Any
Eating Habits: Any
Smoking Habits: (Decidedly important) Non-Smoker
Drinking Habits: Any
Education: (Moderately important) Some University / College; Technical Diploma; Associates degree; Bachelors degree
Occupation: Any
Income: Any


More Physical Characteristics Hair Style: Short
Facial Hair: None / not applicable
Body Hair: Smooth
Eyesight: I've got 20/20 vision
Body Art: I don't have any
Fashion Sense: Urban (My style is fresh from the city streets)
Favourite Clothing: My trusty pair of jeans
Personality Traits Personality Traits: Daring; Funny; Intelligent; Outgoing; Outrageous; Outspoken; Sarcastic; Wild & Crazy
Sense of Humour: Sarcastic
Valued Qualities: Compassion; Devotion; Friendliness; Honesty; Hope; Self-control; Humour; Faithfulness; Chemistry
Intelligence: Intelligent
Ruled by: The head
Party Behaviour: An average mingler
Leisure & Entertainment Pastimes of choice: Reading a book
Music Preferences: Blues; Country & Western; Dance / Disco; R&B / Soul; Rap / Hip Hop; Reggae
Reading: There's nothing better
Books: Fiction; History; Romance
TV Habits: I watch a few favourite shows each week
TV Shows: Comedy/Sit-coms; Reality shows
Movie Frequency: Occasionally or irregularly
Movie Preferences: Comedy; Romance
Take Drugs: Never
Dating & Relationships Current Relationship: I'm single
Date Activities: A music concert; A picnic in a park; Attending a sporting event; Dinner at a restaurant; Meeting for coffee; Walking on the beach
Sports, Hobbies & Interests Sport Involvement: Watching from the sidelines
Sports: Camping; Cycling; Dancesport; Hiking; Running; Soccer; Swimming; Walking
Interests: Photography; Reading; Shopping; Surfing the Internet; Writing books
Work & Lifestyle Pace of Life: Manageable
Time at Work: I work part-time
Cooking: I cook rather than starve
Dining Out: I eat out a few times a month
Cuisine: Chinese; Indian; Italian; Seafood; Thai
Family Size: I've got brothers
Family Closeness: We're average
Time Online: I'm on for an hour or two a day
Willing to Relocate: I'd consider it
Likes & Dislikes Favourite Colour: Purple
Animals: I like them at the zoo
Pets (Like): Dog(s)
Pets (Dislike): Cat(s); Exotic pet(s); Reptile(s); Rodent(s)
Turn-ons: Assertiveness; Dancing; Flirting; Intelligence; Sarcasm
Turn-offs: Body piercing(s); Long hair; Showing affection in public; Skinny dipping; Tattoo(s)
Dreams, Aspirations & Goals Work Aspirations: I already have my ideal job
Dream Home: House in the suburbs
Retirement Plans: Travelling cross-country in a mobile home
Philosophical Stuff Religious Attendance: Once a week
Politics: I have no interest in politics
Feelings about using SA Reunited BlackSingles: Curious
Honesty: Extremely

I feel so weary....A time like this last year I was planning the launch of our styling business. I felt elated and excited that finally I was doing something about my dreams and not just complaining about the state of my life.

Right now I feel defeated. Weary. down. I feel I've knocked on so many doors. Started on so many paths to fin them dead ends.

My faith in God is not in question but rather my faith in my decisions.

So I have decided to hang up my shoes and go back.

It hurts and all I feel like doing is curling up somewhere and wishing away this joke that is my life.

I do not know what next but hopefully this is not the end of my story. I honestly believe in these eight months I gave it all I had.

I wrote this a couple of months ago. It actually happened late last year. Do enjoy :-)

I should have trusted the instinct that made me pause next to my desk and look at the two other pair of shoes I had under my desk. As the events unfolded, that would be the thought repeatedly running in my mind mocking me. I was running late for my cell group meeting. My colleague laughed out loud at the preposterous idea-according to him anyway- that I could be involved in anything other than dancing in a night club. I believe to this day he thinks it was a over for some date. As if! He wouldn’t be the first one to pigeon-hole me and be surprised that I did not fit the one narrow minded label he had for me. I decided to walk down Haile Sellasie road then cut across the park to reach the CBD. I was hosting the group hence my mind was very much occupied as I briskly walked thinking up what I needed to do when I reached home and perhaps it’s what led to my hitting a pavement with my sandal ; Lo! And behold it cut in such a way I could not drag it. I cursed so loudly the Ice-cream man gaped at me wondering why the nicely dressed lady was spouting such profanity or so I would assume. I was in a quandary as I desperately needed to get home before my guest as I had a very bad habit of keeping my guests waiting whenever I hosted events a habit I had sworn I would break. Traffic had already begun to pick up so even if I called a cab it would take forever to get to where I was plus the location was not one where public transport used frequently and it was a bad time of the month hence I doubt I could afford it. My father, from a young age, used to say that I’m a survivor before I could even spell the word or even know what it means. When he explained what it meant I was rather chuffed and all. In my late twenties I no longer like that word but on this particular day that quality served me well. I decided that I would have to walk across this park with one foot barefoot! It did not even take me long to make this decision since I’m a very decisive person. I carried the offensive sandal on one hand and trudged on with whatever minuscule dignity I had left. It was the one day I really wished I was wearing one of my stunners but alas fate is cruel like that. As expected I attracted a lot of attention…perhaps if I had a pair of jeans and a t-shirt I would have been less of a spectacle. Scratch that people like staring whether you wear sackcloth or strut around in your birthday suit. They will always stare. I got catcalls from some lazy bums in the park and through it all I smiled for I knew how ridiculous I looked. If you know Uhuru park, you must know the pathways are rather dusty soon it was too much I decided to ask a vendor to help me with a plastic paper bag tied it around my foot like a shoe and walked on. That girl laughed so hard looking at what I was doing and it was not a mean laugh since I joined her in the laughter but rather one filled with mirth. I decided I could choose to be so mortified and solve nothing or bear with the situation knowing it would only last a short while and the upside would be an entertaining tale for my friends who think my life is a comedy. So there I was in my office-wear, one foot in a sandal and the other in a paper bag shoe; quite the fashionista! Let us just say soon I had a crowd of people following me. The crowd was laughing and signaling to the rest who were unlucky not to have spotted the walking clown. The irony was that none of this had disturbed me till a group of guys near a vendor told me they have an extra pair of slippers and could give it to me if I promised to return them the next day. Again I ignored my instincts and turned to them to eagerly receive these slippers while assuring them I would drop them in the morning. Only to see them laughing their heads off till one fell from the stone he was sitting on. I smiled but that hurt and it confirmed my cynical view that no one really wants to help you but either harm you or humiliate you in the streets of Nairobi hence do not give them a single second. Luckily I was not far from the CBD hence I hobbled away to the nearest BATA shop to buy whatever cheap open shoe I could afford. I still made it home in time to receive my guests and actually forgot about the incident till the weekend when I met my friends and was regaling them with that tale. As expected they almost died of laughter saying how they wouldn’t have walked barefoot nor made a paper bag shoe but like I asked them, I will pose the same question to you; what would you have done in my shoes (pun intended)?

I wrote this like four months ago at the 'request'(read bullying) of my friend who keeps saying my life is like her own drama show...

It’s no great secret that I was a tomboy while young and perhaps some of my bizarre tendencies in adulthood can be attributed to the antics I got up to while in my Huckleberry Finn phase. Over new year’s I was with one of my oldest friends and she said that she likes the fact that even after my parents moved to Suburbia it did not change who I was. I always say that I have lived in all sorts of places and so none of it gets to me. Home for me is where you are safe in every aspect of that word and not necessarily the most expensively decorated mansion but rather where comfort and those you hold dear reside in harmony. I once lived in a place most would refer to a slum but to me it was home. It’s where from childhood I forged some of the most sincere relationships I will ever have in my life. We lived in a four storey flat. Most families lived in one or two roomed houses and I saw some of the most content and well adjusted families than I have ever seen in the suburbs. In fact until I changed schools to join a private school I didn’t know my home was something to be ashamed of or something that others could use as a basis to judge me less worthy than them but that is a story for another day.

As is common in every community with adults and children, there will be one or two adults who will be the bane of the kids who in their play irritate the hell out of these adults. In our hood there was one particular woman and being young we knew her as so and so’s mother. Let’s call her Mama Naleka or Naleka’s mum. To us this woman was an Amazon and a scary one at that for she would just start talking (screaming it seemed to us) and we would all scatter even if she was two blocks away. Naleka often received pitying looks from the rest of us as we knew she had to go home at night and face what seemed to us a monster of a mother. This woman liked to scold us for no particular reason and it being the nineties she was also known to slap and pinch anyone’s child for whatever infraction she imagined without the threat of the police being involved as would be the case if this woman attempted to pull such a stunt in this day and age. On one occasion we were playing with water on the fourth floor of the flat unaware that Naleka’s mum had somehow washed her mattress and hung it out. It should come as no surprise that Naleka used to wet her bed even at the old age of nine years but who are we to judge? So we kept throwing buckets of water at each other in all direction and as you can imagine the mattress kept getting soaked and soaked. In all the noise we did not hear the woman climbing the stairs and starting to slap all and sundry. Most of the boys were quick on their feet hence escaped except D’Mosh as we used to call him and Kama who got such resounding slaps that I in my fear tried to crawl in between this woman’s legs to reach the staircase to escape. Stupid Move! She grabbed me and twisted my ear sore till I thought I would lose it in her hand...in all these I do not know who was screaming louder; me in my pain or her in her rage! I somehow managed to escape. Of course it meant we had to stay away till it was almost dark to get back to our homes meaning another set of punishment from our parents due to coming home late and dirty as we had not showered . To add insult to injury this had happened just before lunch hence we were so hungry as the only money we had between us was five shillings which we bought chili mangoes and trust me for nine , ten and eleven year olds that is not sufficient food. We met later and decided we should do something to this woman who had caused us such pain. This was during the August holidays. Earlier, during the April holidays while playing hide and seek Nyambura and I had hid on the stairway corner since the bulb was spoilt and in the process had unwittingly scared one woman who went screaming so much she almost broke her leg. Of course we found it so funny as we ran away. This is what we planned for Naleka’s mum who was friend’s with Alex’s mum on first floor and for all who lived in the flat knew that every evening they would meet to gossip as is common for housewives. So D’mosh who was like the ringleader of our group and the oldest at eleven suggested he would go to some nearby pond and catch a frog which we would use to further scare Naleka’s mum.
So on the day Domi and Nana were chosen to be the executors while I would be at the gate to be a look out while Kama would be on the first floor balcony to see if Alex’s mum was around. The rest would wait in the playground near our flat. Domi was chosen to hold the frog in a paper bag as none of the girls would hold it and he was small enough to hide while nana held a feather to be used on the victim’s leg to further scare her. To fully get a clear picture the corner stairway was completely dark as no one could be bothered to replace the bulbs in shared areas and the landlord could not be bothered and as is the case in Kenyan Landlord-tenant relationship the scale is more often than not tilted heavily to the landlord’s side with no real recourse for the tenant. Back to the planned attack, Naleka’s mum climbed the stairway as was her habit only to start screaming and running at such a speed that made a joke of her size. She was literally crying and screaming ‘Uchawi! Uchawi!” which translated means witchcraft. We all had to run off to the playground for we knew if that crazy woman found us we would be dead meat. Of course we were laughing so hard at the sight of this fearsome woman crying like a baby. So after some time we went up to find out what was happening upstairs as others had come out of their houses to see what was causing such a commotion. To find this woman in the middle of a crowd on the corridors saying how her mother from upcountry had visited not too long ago and had said someone did not wish her well and had gone to the witchdoctors to cast a spell. The mother believed it was her co-wife Naleka’s mum stepmother. The way she was telling it you would definitely think it was fact. I had to run behind someone to giggle while covering my mouth. She then went on to ask why a frog would jump on her foot in a flat if not sent by evil spirits. Needless to say the nightly visits to gossip became rare. It did not stop the woman from tormenting us but each time she would do so…we would recall her screams while running off and it would even the scales.
The amazing thing none of us ever thought of bullying her child as sometimes happens if the parent is a bully. I figure everyone figured she was unlucky enough. My father usually says that be careful as you punish the eldest child for to hurt you he will wait and beat up the youngest child since he is not able to beat you back. Well the kids from my hood found a way to get back to Mama Naleka directly if not undercover