25 Marks.


“If you find the right crowd, and you’re really good at something, you will thrive at it.”
Hello world, I’ve made an executive decision. Read Life’s a 10 to understand what that is.
I’m watching the Germany- Slovakia game as I write this. I’m in a common room. Seated at the back kabisa. There’s some banter going on at the front of the room. Four men, with necks bulging with opinions are going at it.
Something about Donald Trump being future leader of the free world. And some group in London that hates the mornachy. Everyone one of these young  men is busting with an opinion.
“Trump is bold. And doesn’t kiss ass”. One vomits.
“He hates Muslims, man.” Another one garnishes.
“He will end terror!”  Another one explodes. The half -pun was unintended.
Free speech,and they were exercising their right to it. The only point of banter is to make a statement that will one-up the other person’s.
I’m seating behind a group of four Chinese students and an Armenian.
Jesus won’t forgive me if I fail to mention that Boateng’s unleashed his inner beast. Scoring his first goal for Germany. And I wonder why no A-grade soccer club is breaking the bank to get his signature. To get him to offer his services. It can’t be because he’s black (we’ve evolved). We all love black. Why can’t we pay highly for a defender. We did that with (Rio) Ferdinand, United. We’ve not done enough of that lately. We’ve tried with the Ivorian. Karibu Eric Bailey. I hope that’s the spelling.
Ladies I’m sorry I’m not winning most of you over. Lend me a few sentences. Please?
Jose walks in to the tv room. He had gone home for the weekend. I miss having that.
“Nyi watu wa Mombasa mnakaa tu kuzubaa”. He says carelessly.
I was writing. :-/ . But okay.
I laugh at this. TSK. TSK. He doesn’t know I’m about to get back at him. He doesn’t get to insult watu wa Mombasa. Ah, I laugh.
He has on this new letterman jacket. He looks bespoke. He likes this word. It sounds like something Jon Snow would say. Bespoke. This word is cool as ice cubes. [There you go Joseph.] Shine.
He wants to go look for some beef stew. “Nimecome na chapati kutoka home.” I’m happy for him. He says this with pride. I feel bad for myself. I’ll tell you a secret. There are weekends I’d travel to Mombasa without anyone knowing. I used to miss her food. Her food was bespoke…
What?
“Sawa, nitaenda na wewe.” You’re allowed to miss your best friend. [Three of my best friends have the name Chege. Proudly kuyu. My mum was Luo. I like to say I’m half Luo, my dad’s tribe is not Kenyan. I’m not saying. Jessica Chege, Brian Chege, Joseph Chege- they will meet one day. The 3 Cs. The three C-tooges. Stooges. Okay, enough.]
So I’ll stop mentioning the characters’ names. Because it’s time to trade secrets. One of us already has a story. One of sent a risky and impulsive text. To a girl we like. I’ll see *we to throw you guys off. We analyse this small problem, finding no solution. We move on to the next reveal.
One of us got hit on. And it so happens our jackets had a part to play. Of course it was me
Waah. Aki pole Jose.
We’re laughers . We reach the beef stew place.
“Kuna nyama? Take away.” They serve him. He’s got on a business man stance now. He looks like he’s waiting for an important phone call.  Every boy loves his mama’s chapatis. He’s no different. I’ve never met his mum but her food must also be bespoke.
Shine, Joseph. Shine.
As we head back I tell him about how I just came up with a new post. Not this one. I have like 7 waiting in line. I’m torn about the title for my next post. I want to call it “Raaaah!” Because it’s an ill piece. Hola Hovito. It comes out first Sunday of next month. It’s bespoke. We’re avid fans of Tom Hiddlestone’s Jaguar commercials. It’s where we first heard the word. Look em up. Biko Zulu’s piece on the Jaguar brand is also…bespoke.
So… Jose is still being careless with his words , “Davie unapenda madame light-skin ama dark-skin.” Oh, revenge is so sweet.
I’m taken aback by this question. The dog inside him is about to bark. I’m about to encourage it.
“Hio swali ni rahisi. I prefer dark-skins.” I really do. And I know he’s surprised, I know he’s about to belch an opinion. We’ve never had this conversation before. But yeah, I think that’s some rich skin-tone. I really do.
“Hapana. Man.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, mi hupenda madem tulight-skin hivi. Tufupi hivi. Tuko na haga hivi.” He looks like he’s rapping. I let him talk. I let him bark. I laugh. He’s very funny.
He just said “I like short light skin girls with a fat ass’. Woof! Woof! He’s no hyena. He’s appreciating beauty. And that’s okay. It’s banter!
Isn’t it? 😂
We’re walking back to our rooms now.
It’s been a nice walk. He tells me he’s relived Battle of the Bastards.
I’m about to eat bespoke chapattis. He’s already complaining about the meat.
What was your Sunday evening like? (25 marks)

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