As I’ve always preached here, love is sweet, sweeter than kuku ya kienyeji, sweeter than having an off on a chilly Monday, love is sweeter than mutura (for my ghetto peeps) and sweeter than walking out of a salon/kinyozi in a new rocking hairstyle, heck! Love is even sweeter than chapos (ok, I went overboard there, we all know nothing beats chapos). My spirit tells me there’s a daughter of an important person in the midst of us earnestly praying, “Aki please tell me Achman, is it also sweeter than cappuccino? He-he, unless we are talking chappatis, love beats everything else, but for the sake of you, daughter of an important person, darling, please see below.
First all of, Cappuccino isn’t sweet, don’t be lied to. People who keep coiling their convos around this drink just have nothing important to discuss but want to appear relevant and command an unnecessary attention in their circles for no apparent reason. Such folk suffer from what I call midlife crisis. This type of folk and people who post strings of WhatsApp statuses have one thing in common (I’ll tell you its name). But come on folks, kwani would you die if you just posted one or two updates a day like the rest of us? Post one status, allow is to view it, wait for 24 hours, post another one, let us view it again, then the next day post another one, hivyo hivyo. Is that so hard? Next time you see somebody with a string of WhatsApp statutes or telling you they’re having a cup of cappuccino whatever, look them in the face and tell them to stop being AMAGAMAGA. Or if it’s on WhatsApp, tap that status and reply:
“Stop being Amagamaga.”
“Lol, now what’s that?” they’ll ask because apart from sharing a million WhatsApp statuses and mentioning cappuccino everywhere, they know nothing else. Look, they don’t even know the meaning of simple terms like Amagamaga. So if they ask what that means, say
“It’s a definition of people like you.”
“People like me?”
“Exactly babe” (in fact babe them that day). Help a friend understand their condition, let them look it up in the dictionary.
So as I was saying, these very people that keep talking about cappuccino misled me a couple of moons back and saw me marching into Java House to order that thing thinking it’s the best drink under the sun. For God’s sake, apart from that ka-cake that accompanies it, there’s nothing sweet about cappuccino, adding sugar doesn’t help either. I’ll stick to my porridge.
Anyhow, back to why we are here, so love is sweet yet comes a time when the sweetness fades away as is the case of licking icecream. That’s why chapos stand out cause with kick ass chapos there’s nothing like love withering or sweetness fading away.
So there’s this bird, beautiful hunny, flamboyant even. Hunny has the whole world behind her, hunny looks like she lives on the holy communion and drinks from the pool of life, hunny has curves, gorgeous eyes and round-pointy boobs – the best thing for boob guys. Hunny has the smile of a newborn, beautiful teeth and the voice of Rita Ora. Girl doesn’t do make-up and clothes herself decently (most times) – a girl you can take to your father and say, “Sasa mimi nimeamua kuleta huyu,” and your dad will grin, clear his throat and say “she looks like a good girl, but have you studied her behavior?”
Yet here comes reasons all the love was drained and emptied into a dustbin.
First of all, the hunny was so needy! Hunny wants you to live her, drink her, eat her, breath her. Any day you don’t talk, the hunny is on your neck claiming you have started seeing some other chick at jobo. This girl here wants to blow up your phone 700 times a day. Come on, some of us are not that idle, and it’s not like our wedding is 72 hours away so we have to keep talking to ensure all plans are properly made. Look, we are not in high school!
You’d be juggling between gigs struggling to make a few coins but hunny wouldn’t understand any of that. Hunny just wants all your fucking time and exquisite treats often and wants you to meet all her friends and relatives.
She’d call you at 7 when you are in the office doing the 7 PM news or when you are preparing for the 9 O’clock prime news and your conversation would go like,
“Hi babe, how’s the day been?” she’ll greet.
“I’m great beautiful, my oxygen, how are you today?” You’d respond.
I’m not fine. Been crying the whole day… (See, she’s already changed your mood).
Sorry pumpkin, my angel, but why? You got injured again in the game?
No, I’ve been crying because of you.
(Come on, what do you mean? You’ve been crying the whole f*** day because of me yet I’ve no clue what’s going on?) Because of me? Why?
(Me thinking: is there anything I promised this chick but I’ve not fulfilled? Could today be her birthday but I’ve not acknowledged it? You better go straight to your point girl! If I knew would I be wasting time asking?) Really? I know? Yet I’m asking why?
You are not treating me right, Achman. You don’t even give me time. A mosquito bit me last night and I’ve developed a rash on my forehead but you’ve not even come to see me and see how I’m faring on…
(Ooh, so I am supposed to come help you nurse a mosquito-bite rash ama? How many rashes are they again, just one? Oh poor girl!) Sorry, but that’s why you’ve been crying?
That’s all you can say?
He-he, sorry. I’m still at the office, lemme call you when I’m home.
See now? You don’t even want to talk to me.
(Girl, if I get fired here for spending hours talking to you on phone instead of working will you put me on your payroll? Heck, will you even continue calling?) “I’ll call you,” you’ll say and hang up. She’d call again within two seconds. You’d receive again only to be dragged to the same conversation.
Sasa ona hutaki kuniongelesha. Unakata call yangu. Then when I complain…
“I’ll call you, my sweet potato,” You’d say then hang up again, only to end up with a hundred missed calls from the same girl within the next 15 minutes.
Then when she visits, hunny comes to your digs and sends you to the kitchen like that’s where you belong. Hunny comes in, kicks her shoes off and spreads her beautiful ass on your bed in the name of she’s tired. Hunny then burries her head in her phone stalking people, viewing and reviewing people’s WhatsApp statuses as if she earns from it then expects food on the table in the next two minutes. Listen to me girl, I know how to cook, very well in fact. But when a hunny I’m dating visits and compels me to engage my cookery gear trust me that’s a done deal.
Oh! The beautiful bird up there has no connection to the hunny in question.