Dear Monica

Dear Monica,

You realize I have called you by the full name. I like it that way, in my head there is a special association of Literature and philosophic history. (am not sure I make sense)  You remember that short story by Ken Saro Wiwa, Africa Kills her sun, there was the lady from St. Pauli. This lady I always imagine was called Monica. No don’t get it twisted even for a minute, I perceive her as a great woman. A go-getter a sorts. A woman whose courage allowed her stand infort of men who were deemed great to the nation and make them bow down to her and actually change their character  A woman by the name Monica can greatly influence morals, in both directions J

This name is great, and this story remains my all time favorite.  So hello Monica

I will narrate to you about these last two days of my life……..i am an upcoming marathoner!!

It will be of benefit to you to jog your mind and remember back in high school there was a time I was the dorm captain and we had inter dorm competitions. I dint get anyone to represent my dorm; St. Angelo so I had to run, 4000m. I did well, I was fourth position. This is magnificent because, the county results would have definitely put me first. (The first three were from Eldoret and its environs). So this talent that I have been sitting on for year has finally been discovered by the Nairobi county government. Two days ago!!

I bet you have heard there was a matatu strike (I like how you have not been westernized even after 10 ys? You wont ask me wft is a matatu. Lol!! If you do, il get another beer on your bill) So  Kidero our Governor has doubled parking fee for mats so the touts and some goons barricade roads and other rowdy stuff you may not think of (Due to your environment). The news rooms finally have something to capitalize on after Westgate. The problem with Kenyans tunapenda magari, so if you don’t make it to work and the colleague who sits next to you and lives in the same area as you make it, it will be trouble so I had to make it to work. I dint run, I walked for almost four kilometers.

I live several kilometers from CBD. I am avoiding mentioning names of estates coz seven or is ten years is quite as long time, no need tasking you with incomprehensible names. Imagine like there is a place called H-town. No it’s not Houston sister, its Huruma!! Probably when you left it was called Huruch, pole wev upgraded names. Did I ever mention or rather brag about the name of my place before I moved? Well its called “ Pineapple republic” You’ll need to reply and ask where this is so that I can feel good explaining.

I had to ask for a lift yesterday morning. I first tried a GK vehicle. I mean it’s the government of Kenya. Serikal yawaa!! The government is a snob. I have practical evidence. The government snubbed me while I was stranded by the road, with no means to get me to the station where I contribute actively on a daily basis to the building of this great 50 year old nation. So I thought the government does not want me to build the nation but rather wait for it to be built then I will come in later and do the paint job.

 Next was a young girl in Vitz. Vitz is a small car, that is very female…..ok its just a Vitz!! Whoever said there was nothing to write home about must have been staring at a Vitz. It’s a small car, driven mostly by women!! That’s all about a Vitz.

So the woman was all alone, tweeting and taking pics of the situation maybe Wassuping her boss. She could not even lower her window to look at this desperate soul. I soldiered on. I later saw a church van. The Church is called “ Korean Church Kenya, Kasarani Mwiki” where do you actually located this church? There was no time to locate international churches,a ride  is all I needed. Three strangers in an international church van stuck in traffic for an hour and occasionally moving as we told stories of how we enjoy being Kenyan was how we  got to Muthaiga an hour and a half later.

It was at this point that the situation turned into a walkie talkie. This is whereby you talk to the now well know strangers as you walk. A few steps away is a man calling out “Mbaopple, mbaopple” This is the rush hour language. We stand by the roadside and eat an apple each. Its only 20ksh so no loss. Behold the CBD is neigh.  We finally get to the office at exactly one minute to 10am, dusty hungry and tired. We may not add value to the company today but one thing stands out, no matter where we walked from that morning, our destination is valid!!

Day two:

5am: Wakes up and starts to prepare for work

6am:       Walks to the stage

6.10am: 6.34am:  chases after several matatus trying to hop in to no avail.

6.40am: Almost gives up

6.42am: “ Mwisho Ngara, mia wale wa haraka” comes a voice,

6.44am: Secures a seat at the back of this lets just say old enough bus and immediately falls

asleep (it’s the norm, we woke up early u know?)

7.15am: “Mwisho” comes a voice. Ok were at Ngara, I think I escaped paying that matatu, or a

good Samaritan paid, am not sure and its very ok not to know in such a situation.

7.15 am-7.35 am: Walks from Ngara to CBD. (all other people walked, am not special, well not

at that time)

7.36am: Walks into Sonford and sons fast food joint. I may be the first client, the cleaners are all

over but am hungry and I escaped paying the matatu so I have extra cash. Fries for breakfast never hurt nobody.

8.55am Walks into the office and asks the tea girl what time tea will be ready

NB:      A marathoner has to keep the body well fueled, this training aint no joke.

When is the first lady half marathon taking, place? And what are the participants getting? Ps I asked about participants.

The struggle is real. I am an upcoming marathoner!!

Always, Kellkell

Monica, this is genuinely written for you, thank you for inspiring me to keep writing.