HELP ME HELP THEY.

I banged on the door. Once. Twice. I told myself if she pretended not to acknowledge my presence she will have to pay for that,  in a few minutes.

“I will be on the other side of this door in five minutes. Whether you open the door or not“.

I could hear her cry. I could hear her trying to dial a couple numbers. But she was making no headway with that. No one could possibly hear her with all the sniffs and irritating sounds that came with it. And no one cared. I made sure of that. That with this one, no one cared.

She unlocked the door. Defeated. Resigned. A mess.

I did my thing, and was done with the girl in an hour. She kicked. Punched. Wailed. Screamed. Well at least she tried to kick. Tried to punch. Tried to wail. Tried to scream. She was too beaten to do anything, really. A punch to the gut will do that to a female.

(Every dawn, five children wake up defiled, three people end up dead and two women are raped, according to police statistics.) http://fidakenya.org/2011/01/rape-in-kenya/

Warrup my good people.

Somewhat ironic for a branded-asshole to be Passionateabout the (ignored) issue that is Security-for-the-female huh. Well, I give a shit about it, man.

I have the most bubbly (sometimes annoyingly so) Sister in the world. That lady is probably the source of all the energy I slap in your faces everyday! And .. FUCK.

Her fiancé better know that before he formally takes over the Secure-her role later in the year, I’m always behind her, gun in hand. I FUCKING SWEAR.

Anyway.

I don’t know what I can do to help with this Cause. All I know is I want to HELP. Badly. Desperately even. So if any of you have any ideas as to how I can do that >> bmuchelule@gmail.com

Love.

 

 

BABY MALAIKA.

Is it considered Sin when one steals a Bible?

Where are my manners. Warrup gang! Every morning, mon amie sends me a Bible verse. It’s steadily become a ritual of some sort. A routine. And if you know bits of me, you know I’m a routine kinda person. That spontaneity jibber jabber? No way jose. I wake up, do my moonwalk ritual (I swear), shower in the same format, go downstairs and watch Supersport channel 200 while having breakfast; yada yada. You get the drift.

Where was I? Oh yeah. So when I got to work I flipped through the Nation, and stumbled onto this pic of a baby. You really have to see what I’m talking about, man. Page 2. Something else about me; I hate watching news. That shit makes me lose weight! And we all know how serious I am about growing fat. #ProjectPumPum. It got me thinking. Is God too busy? Wait, don’t give me that look. I mean, is He exhausted? I think He is beginning to tire. How else does one explain all the babies getting raped, the sons taking their fathers to Court because of land issues. The .. The .. See? I’m already tired. And the Man Up deals with these kinda things on a daily all over the place. See my point?? This shit got me thinking of the famous 10 Commandments. Remember those? Well, I don’t, so here goes.

Thou shalt have no other gods before me- I’ve already failed and we just began! Anything good or bad happens to my day, I shoot a text to Pops. Then I sneak in a Prayer. Who’s come first? 😦

Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing- Money.

Thou shalt not take the name of the LORD thy God in vain- I say Christ, and Lordy in half my texts, tweets, whatsapps, BBMs.

Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy- “Are you going to church today?” Mother asks me that every Sunday morning. And every Sunday morning I mumble something, and change the topic. I mean, I don’t party on Saturdays, yet for some reason I’ve learnt to find it impossible to church once a week; to tell the Bugger upstairs He’s the business!

Honour thy father and thy mother- How many times does a child anger the folks, in a year.There.

Thou shalt not kill- https://valviolabrucey.wordpress.com/2012/02/04/life-after-death/

Thou shalt not commit adultery- Christ.

Thou shalt not steal- As a kid in church folks used to give us moneys to give as offering. Let’s just say I owe the church a hundred hundreds 😦

Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour- Aih boss. We were all kids once, man!

Thou shalt not covet- Fuck that. “I’ve got the hottest chic in the game, wearing my chain.” Okay. After Jessica Sula 🙂

And that, ladies and gents, is why there are nine-day old Baby Malaikas going through that kinda torture. Because the Bruceys find it impossible to follow Ten simple Commands handed to them since they were nine days old.

SECURE HER.

I link up with my people on Friday evenings. When I’m back home parking my car at Lord knows what time, I always look up to folks’ room. And I always see the lights turned off. It’s a drunk game I play with mother. Haha nah. Call it a ritual of some sort.

(Note: This drunk game doesn’t go down when father is around.)

My sister and her mister got robbed yesterday afternoon. Guns and what not. See here’s the thing about this lady. She sports a smile twenty five hours a day. So when she came home yesterday evening and I saw her face, I knew something fugly was about to come out of her mouth. And I remember that feeling I got when she went on to explain. I believe the wazungu brand that emotion Anger. Father’s text to me this morning, “when I leave you my pajero to take care of, treat her like she’s a concord”.

(Note: He calls his daughter his pajero).

Have I lost y’all yet? Quick run-through aye. About the drunk game, mother doesn’t sleep easy when father’s not around. When he is, she could care less about why the gate is being opened at 4am.

My lady-friend likes my hugs. Not because I cup her derrière when I’m doing so. Okay not entirely because of that. (Haha sorry Conso). But I figure it’s because of what the embrace means. Metaphorically even.

This city can be quite ugly. Especially for the fairer sex. That’s where we come in. Men of today have been branded many things. Let’s try not add wimp to that list. I’m not asking you to throw a friggin punch at the club. Let’s leave that for the kids, kindly. I’m talking Security here. For heavens sake, don’t let your mrembo wander this city seulement at fucking 11pm in the name of club hopping. There must be some sort of difference between that single girl that bugs you at 9pm every night, and your Lady. Treat your lady like gold. Keep her safe. Her father, however angrily, has left you that job. Hakuna kurega rega.