Sometimes I feel like either I was born in the wrong continent or planet, or should I say galaxy. How else do you explain that when people are thinking of how to make millions, all I’m thinking about is how I can find ‘wambūi mwīkuithia’ aka mimosa vine and step on her and smirk as she looses her turgidity and withers, albeit for a while. I mean the other day my glands went all rollercoaster on me when I saw some leaves that looked like ‘ndabibi’ and I imagined that sour goodness in my mouth. I’d give the jaba people a run for their money if we were to complete. Reminds me of a colleague who went loaf eating competition with inmates. Karibu anyongwe 🤣🤣. Even as I write this I’m feeling like singing, ‘ndabibi, ndabibi ndamu ndarathi ng’ara…..’ go forward ye who knowest. I think I’m a tangled mess.
Since it’s Furahi day and I hear people are planning on drinking until they find the Z in Susan. No need for me though, Susan and I came from the same womb and we’ve been trying to look for this Z since childhood and we’ve never found it, so good luck with that. Mkiipata mniarifu. I’ll be sipping my gatubia, after I’m through with stepping on Wambūi mwīkuithia.
#StillTheChronicler.
Tangled
