The following characters best describe my friends. Bongoman, Stewie Griffin, Homer and the colored one whom I won’t call fat but plus size. People say friends are everything, that they mean a lot to them but I say nah, these nuts screw my brain every time we have a moment. This is why…
Bongoman is one hell of a graphics designer who calls himself ‘Creative’ especially when in an audience of females and they would go, ‘Aki, what is a creative? Sounds cool.’ By that, a pick-up line he gets. He loves sticking to his phone like a nasty gum to that pair of new rugged jeans. He is the type of guy who loses his phone today and hijacks Air Force One to demand ransom to buy an Infinix. In every of our weekly meetups, you do not need to ask where the gang is, you just scan around to find this guy’s hair. We call him ‘The Socialite.’
Stewie pretends to have sad eyes when he sees smiles. He camouflages into this innocent face that makes chics go like, ‘Aaaaaw, he is so humble and sweet.’ He has some taste of fashion but not all the time, it varies with his moods or the side of the bed he woke up from. He is another talented artist as he proudly says, “I play the Keys.” He is a man of few words but of many punchlines. He would twist his accent whenever he hears chics from Eastlands twinkle with theirs.
Homer cannot be described here. He is nuts. No sense of fashion. Cannot speak fluent English or Swahili but has a doctorate in Sheng’. He says what he needs to get off his chest, should he feel like telling you that you are full of crap, he would gladly do. Should he feel that your smile or forehead extends too far he would ultimately say so as if there is something you can do about it. He is used to drumming toms and rides and whenever he cannot get his rudiments right he would turn his frustrations on you. He however has this sense of humor that makes the gang lively.
Then there is…. (let’s call her Mother Stewart or Mother Stewie) Damn! Am responsible for her current character. She used to be a chic before. She would cry, show emotion or even hug you. These days, she would gotea you and say, ‘Niaje Brathe’ and nod her head. The jokes she cracks…. SMH. She is turning out to be a dude. The first time I introduced her to the gang, Le Squad started apologizing about the ills they had done to me. She is plus size and she loves it.
Now, these four characters have been a pain to more than they would be of help and I decided to write a post about them so that they can reflect about ‘our’ friendly lives which is not friendly to me at all. I am in the process of creating an app that will be auto-sending this post to their WhatsApp inboxes daily at 8:00 pm when texts from Brenda (Waitherero), Debby (Nzula), Sue (Namwonyonyi) or in the case of Mother Stewie; Jamo (Ochi), GG (Gitonga), Stan (Shihembetsa) or K4 (Katungulu) pop in and make their smiles look like long stretches of torn pieces of paper around their faces.
These people are so arrogant but like bed bugs I cannot get rid of them. I don’t know what exactly they add to my life but every time I tell them, ‘Guys, let’s call it quit, it was nice knowing you..’ Homer cracks a joke, Stewie says he will come for some music theory notes, Bongoman shows me a very nice piece of artwork and Mother Stewie says we should cook. We don’t have a chama ati we can meet over on weekends for outdoor choma or something but these guys love to crash at my place. They don’t knock my door they just get in like ants marching to gather grass stalks for summer and march to either the kitchen or the toilet. Sadly, they do not say hi. Ever had that friend who finds you in the middle of that awesome series and they cut you short but taking the remote and switching to Supersport? Or the one in the kitchen who comes with a glass of milk, BlueBand, Peanut Butter and a full loaf of bread and they ask you, “Kwani umesota aje?” Or rather the one who goes straight to the toilet seat to WhatsApp akina Brenda and you stand outside pressed like a donkey from the stream?
The saddest thing with these friends is that they switch from Supersport to FIFA to arguing about something. Like robots whose neck hinges have malfunctioned they scroll their Tecnos and Infinixes as they show each other jokes and then they realize they are hungry. It is constant that there will always be one goat who will ask, ‘Uko na charger ya PIN ndogo?’ Then he will start narrating of how he lost his phone last week. It will take them exactly 1 hour to decide what they will eat, 45 minutes to argue out who will go and buy nyanyas, another 45 minutes to decide who will cook and another hour and thirty minutes for the food to get ready. They then realize that were just passing by my place but now that it is late. They resolve that they won’t get home but trans-night playing FIFA as Bongoman chats with Kanene, Kawiwi and Achieng’. At around 2 am one would complain that Homer has done it again. Homer farts a lot. I think it is the only thing he got from 8-4-4. He has a skill and expertise in that. The good thing is that it works for Stewie and Bongoman and at around 2.17 am they realize that tomorrow is a Sunday and they need to go to church with the same clothes they are wearing. So they will rummage my suitcase get all the T Shirts and shorts out as they fit and throw them back and hang their sweated shirt and dirty jeans on the balcony so as they smell of cold. (I don’t know how cold smells, maybe some good smelling spirit visits them during the night)
These guys sleep at 4:00am as their plastic eyes start to diminish every time they say, ‘tucheze ya mwisho’ They wake up like Maasai Morans jumping to a culture song. Bongoman with his hair will finish a new soap on his own, Homer will stay in the shower farting as Stewie spends less than a minute. Apparently Stewie and water are parallel
Then my sweet cologne will suffer the peril of cold wind-blown sweated shirts as they throw the T shirts and shorts in the dirty clothes basket. I would wake up to find two loaves of bread that they would complain is not enough and tea already prepared. I would think that for once they are responsible but later as I ransack my coin box I would find it short of Ksh 200. It is always funny how they leave. They give me those eyes you give someone who has lost a pet. They go like, “It was real men.” I don’t know how many men are there in me and what it really means to be told ‘It was real.’
The fake smiles they give are one that suggest, “We are coming back again, and next time let’s not find this house as empty as it was, load your shelves.” It is then that Homer gives the final fart as a parting signal. It is evident that nature wants me to ditch these people. Every time I leave that WhatsApp group and block every single soul, they would add a very beautiful chic to the group, admin her and add me and then remove her. I would really have wanted to hear what they say to the chic, “Hey, your operation is #BringSilomaBack, we are going to give you shout outs on Instagram. Remember, focus on your mission.”
Guys, I need new friends, friends who don’t fart, friends who don’t Supersport, FIFA or Nickelodeon like these guys. If you really qualify ask me for the application form in the comments below. Why don’t you ?