Category Archives: matters love

I’m Being Stalked! 

Be on the look out!

‘Hey, mambo?’ She said. Hey, how are you?  I didn’t see her coming. She must have sneaked up on me. I had been busy typing a reply to a text message and all my attention had been drawn to it. I was just leaving work, at around half past seven. When I looked up, she had her hands outstretched for a handshake. 

‘Oh, poa.’ I responded reaching for her hand. Oh, fine. Her palm was soft but her fingers tiny inside mine, felt like I was squeezing life out of them and I let go. 

‘Umetoka mapema sana leo,’ she pressed on,’ungetoka saa tatu.’ You closed work early today, you should have left at 9pm.  She seemed determined to extend the conversation to my dislike. 

‘Niko sawa.’ I scowled, trying to ignore her comment. I’m alright . She forced a plain laugh and then started walking away. 

‘Have a goodnight…Tony!’ She said in a raised voice. With the momental pause before saying my name, I’m sure she was trying to recall it. She wanted to let me know that she knew my name. I wasn’t  impressed by that, she was pushing too hard.

That was the first conversation we ever had. After that she developed a wont – passing in front of my shop several times a day. Whenever our eyes meet, she waves. When they don’t and there is no buyer, she comes to shake hands. Now, it’s not that I have never seen her, in fact her face for over a year now but she never did take notice of me or looked at me like she does now, we’ve always been strangers and just conducting our affairs like strangers do. She’s charcoal black – that’s the first thing I ever noticed, darker than I thought I was. And she’s one of the few ladies I would say, are proud to be really African, if you know what I mean. She is slightly above five feet tall, keeps her hair cut to almost an inch above her scalp, with the sides of the head trimmed shorter, mohwak kind of. Her face is… somehow… rectangular. Big white eyes, a small nose, and  brief mouth – with thin lips curled upwards at the ends in a sneer. She has a long neck, which isn’t so bad. Her body is lean, and then she walks her bossom is pushed up as if she were carrying a bucket of water on her head from the river, on a steep slope, and she’s supporting it with both her hands. Bottom line is, she’s not my kind of girl, she doesn’t tickle my fancy.

The other day, I confided in a friend of mine about her wierd and sudden friendliness. His answer was; she has a crush on you. I laughed out loud, really loud. That evening she came to my shop to buy some antihistimine tabs, she did the outstretching-hand thing again, and I took her hand reluctantly. I felt some fear grip my heart making it feel like a clenched fist in my chest. I let my hand slip away and then got her the drug. She was smiling and I was tempted to ask what she was smiling at but I couldn’t. She was about to begin a conversation when my phone began ringin, to my relief. She walked away. When I was done with the phone call, I noticed a piece of paper on the counter top, it hadn’t been there earlier, before she came. Out of curiosity, I picked it up and unfolded it -it was folded once,symmetrically. It was some kind of a note, surprisingly, with my name on it. 

Hello Tony, 

Please I am sorry but it’s really very bad to keep quiet with something that pains. You know what? I am almost even having a wound in my heart because of you. Yesterday was not my first time to see. Since the day I came, I saw you but there was no way of talking to you. 

I am Sharon. Originally I’m a Ugandan. 

Please help me, call 0711 949 ***, or I just come back for my reply. 

Note: I don’t have someone to love me or a fiance nor a child. 

I read the note twice, the more I read it the more comical it sounded. It was so full of errors but I got the message.  Then something made me freeze…originally I’m Ugandan. Now, there’s this belief that the land of  matoke has the most potent love potions. What if she had applied some of it on the note? Then I will be under her spell, following her everywhere like her shadow. If she says I bark like a dog, I would do it without second thoughts. If she says walk on fours like the dog, then I would be on it, I’ll be her puppet. That’s horrible. Just that mere thought got me shaking. I had to do something, real fast. The Bible. Yes, I had to undo it using the Holy Book. Neutralize the power of that potion, should there be any. I reached for the Bible that had been gathering dust inside a box of books. I held it on my palms, not knowing what I should do. The first impulse was to place the note inside the Bible, that’s where it had to be.

I had to keep her away from me. I wasn’t going to let her come back for her reply. What if she decided to chew some of those potions! I decided to give her some feedback through the number she had provided in the note. In the text message, I told her that I am happily married, with a kid. Her reply was: pliz not for sex. Who even talked of sex? I decided I’m not having a conversation on that. She calls when I don’t reply, then Truecaller app installed on my phone gives me one of the most genius suggestion, Block Spam Calls.  I go for it, sit back and try to relax. 


I’m Smitten!

It’s thirteen hours since I landed in Mombasa (I used a bus though.)…


Love struck

I woke up at around 6:30am in my hotel room despite having slept quite late. I couldn’t understand why I was awake that early yet I was supposed to be enjoying my weekend at the coast, and dragging my ass as ‘coastarians‘ do. I had a feeling something good was about to happen, but I couldn’t figure out what exactly! I got out of bed and did a quick cold shower, got dressed up and sat back on the bed flipping through channels on the 32inch ultra slim Toshiba tv set that the room boasted of. Still I couldn’t settle. A room attendant informs me that my breakfast is ready and I rush for it in the dinning area, ready to hit the town.

An hour later I drive into Likoni Ferry roundabout a in tuk tuk. I’m busy chatting the tuk tuk driver who had ferried me as I  ransacked my backpack trying to get a hundred shilling note out of the wads of notes I had stashed there ( Luo will kill me, haha). Opposite me another tuk tuk pulls over, the right door opens and a white doll shoe steps out, then a whole right leg in blue jeans pants. Later an arm with a black bag and finally she wholly stepped out clad in pink blazers. She pulled out two more bags, and then I saw it. That smile. It was familiar, like I had seen her in a past life. No, in my dreams I suppose. She was pretty, prettier than a goddess, and that I was sure.

“Vipi kaka?”(Hey bro!) I’m interrupted by the drivers voice.

I get back to my senses and realise I had pulled out a thousand shilling note instead of a hundred. A quick search and I fish out the right note and hand it over then walk out, my eyes trained on the disappearing beauty. I catch up with her as she put her three bags on the scanner rack at the entrance to the ferry terminal.


“Si uniachie begi moja?”(Let me have one bag) I tease in her in a fake Swahili accent that I acquired when I arrived in Mombasa, as I pick up one of her bags at the other end of the scanner. She looks at me with that sweet familiar smile and I feel weak for a second then get my zeal back.

“Niko sawa!”(I’m good) She protests but later lets me have my way. She’s so charming, I decide.

I walk beside her feeling so homely. Feeling like a married man.

“Si tuketi upande wa juu!”(Let’s sit on the upper deck.) she suggests as we get onboard the ferry.

“Oh, yea!” I agree with her without any second thoughts, how could I not agree. And who in his right senses wouldn’t! I follow her up the stairs and sit beside her, facing the ocean – on a bench she picked. I gave her surreptitious looks and imagined her with a protruding belly carrying my unborn child. I pictured us seated somewhere on a sandy beach watching our kids play. I saw us going out on hikes and karaoke nights. I travelled in to the future, the virgin future ahead.

I’m interrupted by the hooting of the ferry. It’s like I had been lost in my own world for ages, hadn’t noticed the ferry had been slithering across the ocean and it was now time to disembark. She’s ahead of me as we get off and I keep my eyes on her as we find our way through the crowd. Not saying a word. Out through the exit gate the crowd eases and I rush beside her.

“What’s your name Miss. Stranger?” I manage to ask, avoiding conversation in Swahili. She looks rather calm. She looks me in the eyes and giggles.

“Call me Irene. And you? ” She answers and throws back the question just as I hoped.

I tell her my name and after a little chitchat we exchange contacts and go our separate ways. I don’t get that smile out of my mind all the way… 

She’s Gone With The Wind!

I have met a dozen ladies, beautiful ladies, size yangu as they say! The fast I see them, the faster they dissappear from my radar. Maybe I’m jinxed, I can’t tell or maybe I’m so ugly coz I can’t remember the last time I checked myself in the mirror…

Since Akello left, I have never healed, it’s over a year now. The white lady, Pam too came but since she flew back I’m at loss, I talk to her on phone but still I feel lonely, I miss her but I can’t afford an air ticket…

I checked on the map of the world to see the location of Canada and realised I can not ride a bicycle over the water, only Jesus could and even if I could, I might be sixty when I finally get there and she would be married with a couple of kids to take care of, what would then become of me? Maybe get deported back to Africa to find my people old and some dead… My used to be home now nothing but a farmland.

I’m getting older, fast approaching thirties and the years are now showing. Everyone asking me to get married but who do I marry?

Then on this very day, I was sitted in my shop chatting animatedly with some shosho. She was giving me a flashback of her youthful days, life was good!

Eighty years of age, but she looked stronger for her years. She was now a widow. Her husband died twenty years ago and left her with only one child, a son, who also died ten years ago and left behind a son, her grandson. His sons wife had ran away leaving her with the boy who was ten years by then. Though her face now wrinkled, you could tell she was a beauty during her reign.

“I was the queen of my village,”she asserted. “Men fought to have me and I loved it!” she continued, her face beaming.

She went quiet for a while, she was deep in thought, the brightness was replaced by deep sorrow…

She was married at age sixteen as I gather from her, after she came back from the deep thought.

At this point a van painted yellow and with ‘Orange’ written on the side, passes along the murram road in front of my shop, music blaring from the loudspeakers mounted on its roof. It comes to a stop just a few metres past the school gate (remember the school where the mysteriou chopper landed?). The door opens and a few ladies and boys alight, they all had black T-shirts with ‘Hello’ written on them. They were doing a sales promotion for the ‘Orange mobile network’ as I later learnt.

One of the ladies walks right up to my shop, she has blue jeans, and a Beyonce’s body, you know what I’m talking about right? She looks at me, smiling. The usual sales tactics, make you feel like they have a big crush on you, just to make you buy their product.

She arrives, shakes our hands, introduces herself and starts explaining about the offers they were giving with each simcard bought. I wasn’t interested in buying but she kept pushing me. No matter the excuses I gave for not wanting to buy the more she insisted. I knew I wouldn’t resist anymore so I decided to purchase one on condition that she gives me her number. Suprisingly she did!

What followed still baffles me to date; WE FELL IN LOVE!!

But just like the other ladies, she vanished, vanished like the Malaysian Plane… Leaving my heart broken into pieces.

‘Why are all these good girls taken every time… Every time I say ‘Hello’ then they say ‘Goodbye’…’ I sing to this lines of ‘Good Girls by Joe’, all the time.

Posted by Mr. Jagweng

Seven Things She Wants From You!


Picture courtesy of Google.

Relationships are tricky affairs that at times leaves us wondering what they are really made of. Divorce cases piling up in court shelves each day. What became of marriage? Is it that life has become so demanding or lifestyle changes have had a negative impact on the society. We spend so much energy on how to get ahead in life that we barely have strength left for our relationships. Here are few tips you could try to help reduce the number of divorcees in the society.

1. Tenderness

As much as your woman would want you to be macho, she would appreciate some gentleness when you are around her. She loves to see your emotional side. Tell her ‘ I Love You’ when she least expects it. Wink at her across the room or the dining table. Smile when your eyes meet. Text her when she is seated or sleeping next to you and watch her face glow.

2. Sociability

This is where most of us are guilty (even the ladies). I understand you encounter lots of pressure at work and when you get back home, all you want is some rest and peace of mind. There is one more important thing though, your MARRIAGE. Learn to separate work from your marriage. If you have a housewife, don’t forget she missed you, she has some chitchat to share with you, she wants to share a laugh with the man she adores so don’t go back home and sink into the couch and start watching those boring political debates. Talk to her, enquire how her day was you will be surprised how the bond between you will grow closer and stronger … be her best friend and companion.

3. Understanding

Often we hear phrases like, ‘women are like kids….’. That’s the delicate nature of their feminity. To be a good partner, learn what a woman is made of, her emotional needs; mood swings that mostly occur due to hormonal changes. There are times that she will just keep quiet intentionally, she wants you to reach out to her, she wants to feel desired, she wants to know if you still care so don’t ignore her, it will make her resent you, so strive to anticipate her every emotional needs as a woman. They are wired different from men.

4. Loyalty

Whatever happens, your woman expects you to always stand by her side. Never humiliate or ridicule or even criticize your woman in public how ever tempting it could be, it’s totally wrong and UNACCEPTABLE! There are times she might go overboard in a public spat but DO NOT join the public in condeming her. Defend her even when you know she is wrong but don’t forget to sit her down and make her understand that you didn’t also approve of her actions and insists that she apologises to the offended party.

5. Honesty

This is the ‘creme de la creme’. Honesty is something so rare but very major. It’s the source of conflicts and winding up of most marriages. This is the pillar that sticks relationships together like glue. There are times we keep some secrets with the belief that she will never find out, only for it to come and haunt you ten years into the marriage. What a loss! If you sired a dozen kids out there, be man enough and let her know. This will avoid future conflicts, though it’ll hurt but it’s better than her finding out ten years into marriage. Try as much as you can to be transparent in your moves and dealings with her.

6. Courtesy

When meeting new people or just going about our business, most men are humble, respectful and act like perfect gentlemen to total strangers ( I don’t mean it’s wrong or you shouldn’t do it) but back in the house, to the woman you swore to love and cherish, they do the opposite; rude responses and all manners thrown into the wind. Style up my friend. What became of the manners you had during courtship? Get back to when you first met, she is still that same lady. The beautiful Princess. Your sugar pie. She will love you forever and ever…

7. Fairness

Men this is where you will sweat it out. Better loosen that tie and belt, probably you might want to remove your shoes too. Guys, I know the idea of generously parting with that hard-earned cash ain’t easy. Deliberately we have fitted our wallets with Omata Speed Governor when it comes to house matters. Like seriously? Why don’t you do the same with your friends at the bar, kuchafua meza. At home, you need bedsheet changes, wall hangings, table mats, utensils and much more. If you can’t give her enough money to buy them, where do you expect her to get them? Unless you want her to get them from another man (after you know what). So at the end of the month make sure you give her enough money to run the house. She buys you new pair of socks, boxers and handkerchiefs, what else do you want. If you can’t handle a family, don’t marry. Period!

Posted by Mr. Jagweng

Foreign Crash!!

This is not about a plane crash in the Amazon jungle or maybe in the Pacific, because I have no authority to speak about aeroplanes, I’ve never gotten close to that thing so if I pretend to talk about its crashing leave alone touching it, it would be a crime… I can only talk of affairs of the heart! Yes that one!

I have a feeling that I don’t even know what ‘Foreign Crash’ really means, but I do know what I want to talk about … just follow this story and maybe you’ll tell me if I have a hint on its meaning!


This is a plane crash.

Where was I headed?

Saturday morning, a bright day it is, clear sky so hopefully no rains to be expected. I love my Saturdays like this, clear bright sky with no signs of rain.

I’m not going to the shop today, I just gave myself an off, money can wait!

A friend of mine,John, who works at some children’s home not far from my village, had invited me to the home’s fun day. A moment to share a smile with children, young orphaned children, is not something I could miss for anything in the world. Being a child and not having a clue of parental love, is a psychological torture, they didn’t bargain for this but still they found themselves all alone, alone in this cruel world…

It’s humbling we still got people who got some compassion in their hearts, they make a difference… People who care about others, such people melt my heart. This is my moment to give them something,share some love, to make them smile. DON’T UNDER ESTIMATE THE POWER OF A SMILE!!!

It’s going to be a playful moment with the kids so I’m keeping it simple on dressing, black T-shirt, beige khaki pants and black Ankara shoes.

The home was about 5miles away, along the tarmac road, so I took a shuttle bus…

It is 10:35am when I arrive at the home and is met by John at the gate…

“Thanks for coming man!” He says,hugging me…

“Come on, you know I can’t miss this bro, ” I respond, my eyes scanning the compound.

It wasn’t such a big home but it was descent. With the help of well wishers and sponsors, the management had put up a. standard dormitory, classes and an office. The drive way from the gate had been gravelled, with flowers planted on either side of the drive towards the office that faced the main gate, classes on either sides of the office. Right of the drive there was a small field with a dormitory next to the hedge, left of the drive was a more larger field set with bouncing castles and swings. Kids were not on site. I spot a pavilion set at the end of it next to the classes, and some guests were already sitted…

Sorry, where was I…

My friend walks me to the pavilion, informing me that most guests from the city were just about to arrive, most of them being sponsors. We get to the pavilion and sit down, discussing the welfare of the kids. The pavilion soon is filling up, the guests had arrived. I spot a dozen whites who my friend inform me have sponsored a most of the kids. So kind of them.

One of them caught my attention though, she was slightly above five feet tall, doll eyes and she wore this infectious bright smile, her black shiny hair dangling on her shoulders and she would tilt her head from time to time to get them off her face. She had on a black and white vest top, a black skirt, (and oh my, she got legs, she adorned them with some nice pair of black sandals) , simply dressed but she looked like a goddess!


Do you seem so resemblance with my Pam?

Soon the programme begins and the director steps forward to invite the guests, he was giving a report on the status of the kids, who by now I could see playing on the field in front of their dormitory. Through all the speech, my eyes would dart across to where this goddess was sitted, she sat a row behind. At one point she caught me but just smiled, I was so embarrassed! I can’t tell why I kept checking her out, maybe it was the smile, the eyes, I don’t know but still I looked, the more I looked the more I got caught… It was now a game and she was loving it.

The director was through. It was time for fun!!!

My friend excused himself as he had some issues to attend to in the office. I stand and move a short distance towards the bouncing castles, music blaring from the speakers in the pavilion. I felt like grooving to the beat!

I had lost site of the goddess!!!

I felt someone tap me over the shoulder, so I turned around dancing with the hope it was my boy… Jesus!! It was her.

“Hi, I’m Pam! ” She says, stretching out her hand…

Things were moving too fast! Do you know the feeling you get when you come face to face with the bully you have been making fun of? Like you want to shit your pants or just do some abra cadabra magic and disappear! You know it right? I was shaking, I had no strength to lift my hand and greet her or even open my lips, I just stood there motionless like a mannequin.

Her eyes were sparkling bluishgreen and her smile so bright, she was torturing me, but why? Will I make it through this ordeal alive? I wondered! I WAS GETTING CRASHED!!! I think she realised I was dying inside because she drew back her hand and stopped smiling, this gave me relief…

“Hey, come on!” She says with a giggle…

She gets out her phone from a black clutch bag that she is carrying on her left hand and takes a few snaps of me… I manage to get my composure and introduce myself to her.

She is a Canadian, as I later learn, about 30yrs of age but she looks 25 to me, she also informs me that she has two kids in the home she is sponsoring…

Kids are already all over us, some getting on the bouncing castles. She requests me to help her look for the two kids, Joy and Randy, as she informed me. The home has about 120 kids so we find them without a hustle. Two sweet little kids, Randy, a boy is 8yrs of age and Joy, a girl of 6yrs. She has such a connection with them, a sign she comes to visit them from time to time as she later confirms.

Time is flying past steadily, at around 2 pm, we are assembled for some meal. She has an obsession though, her phone! Most of the time she was either scrolling through it or taking pictures. But she is one great company, much fun to hang around with.

After the meal, she excused herself to leave for the city as she has plans of flying back home the next day. A sad moment to say goodbye…

Since Akello left, I built a strong armour around me, but the foreign lady just CRASHED IT AND LEFT ME VULNERABLE!!! No one has ever done that!

Posted by Mr. Jagweng

“Ankole Cattle Threatens Ties Between Kenya and Uganda… “

Recently there was a diplomatic row concerning Ankole Bulls allegedly rustled into Kenya from our worthy neighbours, land of matoke, the land of Sebbos and Nyabbos… Most men wanted the spat to be solved and the bulls returned… Straining relationship with Uganda could be disastrous with most men eying the Nyabbos..


These are the Ankole Cattle I'm talking about...

Thankfully the bulls were found and returned, what a relief!!!

We were free to woo, we didn’t care about Migingo anymore, all we want is a Nyabbo, who will make you feel like a king, warm you bath water, help you change clothes, to hell with manzi wa Nairobi.

I also wanted to find myself one to hopefully settle down, Akello was now a mirage, I had to let go and look for her replacement, a nyabbo would do.

Lucky for me, I had a friend studying in the land of Matoke, studying in the once prestigious Makerere University. He had often praised them and this arose my desire even more. One day he called to inform me that he had found me a perfect match, and that I had to make an arrangement to travel to Kampala.

I was so excited about this, my prayers of settling down with a nyabbo was now becoming a full blown reality… You remember those days when Christmas was round the corner and your Dad had to make you step on a hard paper and then draw the outline of your foot, as he went to buy you shoes, you know that feeling when you are waiting for him to come back from the shop? That’s what I was going through…

Nyabbos were every Kenyan man’s dream, I guess they still are. Mine was ready, waiting for me. I had no idea how she looked like neither did I care, to me all Nyabbos were a symbol of beauty. A nyabbo was a nyabbo!

Without wasting time, I had some cash I always saved for emergency cases and this was one, I set off for my journey to the promised land.

On the bus, I could picture her. She was going to be so overjoyed to see me, she certainly must be dying to see me. I envisioned her. She and my friend waiting for me, she sees me and then runs foward to hug me with so much desire in her eyes. She was going to fall madly in love when she sets eyes on me…

From my village to Kampala was about 180km…

We had just gotten past Busia, Uganda, when I received a message notification that I was being welcomed into Uganda. My friend had earlier informed me to change my network settings to manual, had he informed everyone of my visit? I wondered. We quickly past through Bugiri and was fast on our way to Jinja, as I was informed by a woman who was sitted next to me, she was also a Kenyan but on a different mission, she was going to purchase vitenges. Soon we were past Mukono, a few kilometres from Kampala, so I informed my friend that I was about reaching.

When we arrived at the bus stop, I spotted my friend, he was there waiting but no company.

That didn’t matter now, I was already in the promised land. I was surrounded by nyabbos. I could now pick whoever pleased my eyes…

We headed for my friend’s place and soon after he left that he was going to the shop. A couple of minutes later he came back, he had company. A light skinned lady, cute eyes and she had this bright smile that illuminated the room when she came in, oh, she had dimples too. She was slim but sweet.

This was her. Ankunda was her name, she was a Munyankole. Jesus! Thank God the cattle had been brought back or she would have demanded them from me.

She didn’t know Swahili, only English, a bit of Luganda and Runyankole.

“You Kenyans, banange!” she would say amid giggles. From her body language, she was in sync.

I did not want to spend much time over there so the next day, we went to see her parents as is the custom, and inform them of my intentions.

I was in the company of my friend.

She had briefed her parents, so they were waiting when we finally got there. It was more of comittee, two old men and other close paternal relations as I later gathered. I felt so tense but the presence of my friend gave me some confidence.

We talked at length. Did I say talk! It was more of an interview.

I was  informed that if I wanted their daughter’s hand in marriage, I had to pay 20 Ankole cattle according to their traditions. There also had to be other formal negotiations with my family and later plan for a wedding…


These are the Ankole Cattle that caused me a nyabbo...

This was going to be a tough call me. TWENTY HEADS OF CATTLE!!!

Was I being charged for a crime I did not comitt?

Was it a sabotage plan? I felt this was more like it… The rustlers had tainted our image… Maybe I was a rustler. I wanted to take their daughter away,and that was my crime.

We left the place and travelled back, my hopes shattered. My dreams wasn’t valid after all. If it costs that much to have a nyabbo, how costly would it be take care of her!!!

It could take me ten years savings to afford such dowry… My hopes of ever gunning a nyabbo just died.

Maybe the government should just let go of Migingo, things could be much better.