The year that was.

2010 started out for me in a characteristically  drunken stupor, I was a guest at  a house party organized by one of my longest serving friends and confidant, Kun Lao, who has curved a place in my heart for her unconditional,unwavering and cordial love that she continues to bestow upon my staggering (pun intended) soul.The minute I got to the party,I proceeded to imbibe all sorts of drinks visible to my eye and as always,it didn't help that they had a meticulously mixed concoction which in itself would render a dozen Irish men out of service.

Partners in Crime.

A couple of minutes towards midnight and all I could see was a clear sky with no stars,no clouds,no moon but just the reflection of my forehead.The usual countdown started and I have no re-collection of  whether I counted 3,1,...,2 or 2,1,4....,but all in all,the year started literally on a high note.
Fast forward to 4.00 a.m since I have no idea who called me or who I called between midnight and then.
My heavily intoxicated mind connived with my legs to carry me from Sir.Apollo Kaggwa Rd.to Kisementi,a place i had no idea I would begin to love more than life itself.It was while here that I met a very beautiful young lass standing by herself waiting for her friends to make up their minds so that they can all go home.Apparently she was from an overnight at Watoto Church and she didn't remember seeing me conducting the orchestra while there(Kampala gals,hmmmh)
Okay,so I quickly forgot about the orchestra I was playing and decided to focus on the issue at hand(please note that at this time I was actually holding her hand) At that point in time,I was a telecommunication engineer who had just finished grad school and was just looking for a gal exactly like the one whose hand I was holding to come into my life so that together we can produce the next generation of children who will take after the likes of Martin Luther,Obama,Einstein, Wangari Maathai etc...Up until that point we shared the same vision.But after the various rounds of God knows what,!!! I wasn't going to give up my pursuit of a happy nite(and we all know how that ends).I mean honestly is there a better way to start the year?
But the gal at hand seemed like she had an even bigger vision for both of us.She had asked God for one thing this year and that 'thing' was holding her hand.An intelligent,young,ambitious boyfriend to make her smile,laugh and do all the things that lovers do.(How prayers can be answered,don't ask me).
Moving on,being the gentleman I am,(choking on this)I escorted her home and promised to take her for ice cream the following day.Unknown to me at that time,I had just needlessly started the journey down the relationship path,a journey I was not familiar with to say the least and one that in retrospect I believe I was not prepared for(but what could have possibly prepared me for this journey)
Well,as the months went by,we had ice cream,more ice cream,and plenty more ice cream.On a any given Sunday,we would be found like this.

How adorable,(banging my head on the wall)

She slowly melted the walls of my heart(are they still called ventricles?) and before long the grapevine was ripe with rumours that Cupid had actually shot me, me.,Davis....,not if I had something to do with it.But all that macho talk went out of the window but so did most of my brain cells courtesy of late night binges,sleep overs at the brewery(read Sir Apollo) and the lack of any academic activity going on in my life.
While still talking about the lack of academic activity,I must add that it is during this year that I graduated with an Honors degree much to the surprise of some people who thought I was at university for the wrong reasons.This was celebrated in the only way I know how,with friends,family,well wishers and sooth sayers.

January gone,February past by so fast cause I was probably to hung over to notice and it didn't help that at Baroque Publishers where apparently I was the Editor in chief,I wasn't being paid a dime for all the sleep I was generating both on and off the job.I felt like my life had entered a kind of comatose state and any efforts to get out proved futile since most of the people that worked around me had been in a similar state long before I came along.
March and most of April saw a resurgence brought about by an interview that I did at Aga Khan University where two lovely women traveled to Uganda to inspect the contents of my cranium and found that therein lay something that needed to be checked and urgently so.
I waited for the results of this interview like my life depended on it.I prayed,made promises I haven't kept,did all the positive thinking one could possibly do,envisioned myself as this tough talking lecturer with a bunch of dim-witted students as my best friends and drew all the possible scenarios that my mind could conjure up to keep me going and determined that this job would surely be mine.I waited.....,May came and June passed by and still no call,no email,no sign of any light at the end of this tunnel. If I had seen any then,I would certainly believe that it was a speeding train coming to save me from this patient patience.By July, I was clearly clutching at straws,I was working as a salesman at a bridal gown store and my boss who was Nigerian kept whispering into my ear that I was the right man for this kind of job.Armed with radiant,positive energy and dozens of literature on how to make a good sale,I attempted to convince some marriage-happy women to buy some gowns from our store.I worked hard at this and quit after 4 hours and 12 min.
My only hope for redemption,survival and a meal to eat now lay at the behest of some strangers who lived not less than 300km away from me.
August found me in a parasitic kind of relationship with another of my longest serving friends,Bossmo who was still at University and therefore had the luxury of asking his parents for accommodation,food to eat and clothes to wear.I lived with him in his one roomed domicile well aware of the repercussions that this could carry if the land lord found out so you can imagine,late night visits,and early morning getaways.
From Kampalas'  7 hills,I could be heard ululating courtesy of an email I received around mid August asking me to travel to Nairobi for a face to face interview with the said strangers.
I was required to study a 20 page document and present my findings in a coherent,logical and intelligent manner that would guarantee whether I get the job or not.I certainly wasn't going to miss this once in a lifetime opportunity to get out of the unenviable  rut that had become my life.I read,studied and rehearsed every bit of my presentation with a dear friend of mine we prefer to call the Surgeon.

The Surgeon is on the extreme left looking suave and dashing.

Thanks to him,I employed some of the best power point techniques known to man in this century and needless to say I was rewarded with the job 4 weeks later.
September found me nested in the splendid Royal Apartments in Parklands-Nairobi where I dined and wined with some of the most intelligent people on this continent and if I had any doubts that God exists,they were all
brought to naught because I could not fathom how lucky I was to be in the company of these wonderful people.

A sizzling pot of cultures.

 October and November found me sashaying through the streets of Nairobi,dining at Tribe,tasting the finest Indian cuisine,swimming through the 14 falls,discussing multi-cultural experiences,new frontiers of knowledge and paradigm shifts in the knowledge economy(I have no idea what all that is,but it makes good conversation)
As we approach the festive season,I am happy and thankful to God for great things He hath done and as we usher in 2011,I hope it finds me in a more sober state than I was in 2010.

Proudly Ugandan

As the curtains were drawn on the fourth season of the annual,grand,opulent and auspicious Tusker Project Fame show,it was quite evident that one man was happy beyond his wildest dreams.
The Tusker Project Fame show is a reality t.v show that brings together a group of young men and women from the East African region where Tusker is dominantly the beer of choice,who have the ambition,zeal and potential to be great musicians and places them in an academy where they learn,participate,explore and hone their musical and dancing skills on the road to eventual stardom.The general public reserve the right to evict any one from the academy who they feel doesn't have the wherewithal to be the next big "thing" and this goes on through a number of weeks as the contestants are nominated for eviction and the public decides who goes home and who stays in the academy.It is East Africa's premier reality t.v show and It has been described as  a "marriage between voyeuristic big brother and the musical phenomenon Idols with a thrilling dose of survivor-style voting."
A dedicated,ambitious multi-talented young man,25 year old Davis Ntare made Uganda proud by winning the fourth season of the Tusker Project Fame.
His profile states quaintly that he is a multi-faceted artist with interests in production,photography,song writing,abstract art and the noble desire to use his knowledge and skills to reach out to people in a positive way.

 Davis fell down a couple of seconds after the announcement that he had won the Tusker Project Fame season four; unable to contain the excitement.euphoria and ecstasy that had gripped him after finding out he would be walking home Kshs.5million richer.
For me it was joy and happiness, for yet another Ugandan had proved himself on the regional and international stage as a fighter,a champion,a true winner and a force to be reckoned with in the next couple of years.
A few weeks ago,I gave Uganda and T.Z a bashing on this blog after witnessing how Kenya was seemingly running away with all the possible international accolades they could possibly master but Davis and the runner up Msechu from Tanzania proved to the entire region and the world that they have what it takes to compete and be recognized on the international stage.
A very important lesson to learn form Davis' story is that,it doesn't matter how long you keep trying,how long you have to wait for victory,how long you have to practice,the honest truth is, if you persist at doing something you love,over and over and over again,you will surely reach Nirvana and you will achieve everything that looked impossible at first sight.Kudos to you Davis,kudos to Uganda.
In a related Ugandan success story,I can't congratulate the Uganda Cranes enough for beating their arch rivals and the country of my current residence, Kenya,2.0. I t was a highly contested game and any blunder on either side would have literally cost the side but Uganda was not taking any hostages and though they left it late,they are now perched on top of  their  Group and basking in what could well be one of their best tournament runs.Needless to say they have qualified for the quarter finals and though there is a long way to go before lifting the trophy,so far so good.So for this past week,all I can say is it feels good to be Ugandan.

Facebook makes dating more complicated than ever.

Social media has added an entirely new dimension to our lives. It has also complicated our relationships beyond measure. In the past, it may have been possible to stay below the radar; now your friends know about your break-up the moment it happens.
Face book in particular has taken that which was conveniently tacit and brought it into the public realm. It’s this mutual visibility that makes social media so tricky – I know that you know that I know – and it has led to a situation where identity has become both performative and narrative: We’re always putting on a show, and we’re always giving a blow-by-blow account of the spellbinding minutiae of our lives. We’re the stars of our own reality TV series and a relationship, like the self, is now something that is available for public consumption.
There’s a certain logic to the way in which many relationships pan out in an age where the digital self is as real as the version you keep offline (and where this distinction is becoming increasingly irrelevant)

It can also be described in the following steps:

1. You register on a dating website, check out one another’s profiles and, if the sales pitch upfront grabs you, go on to read the narratives. (My favourite: “I am a fun guy looking to have fun and laugh again I just want to let my hair down and have fun again I want to just go where I want to go, and do what I want to do with who ever wants to do it with me”) Viewing the profile leads to mailing a prospective date, to chatting online, to exchanging phone numbers, each representing an ever greater level of intimacy.
2. You then meet the person behind the profile In Real Life. Based on this, you decide whether or not you want to see this person again.
3. You friend them on Face book (note that steps 2 and 3 are interchangeable).
4. You both decide that you quite fancy one another. You go on dates over a period of several weeks, perhaps start staying over.
5. You change your relationship status on Face book from “single” to “in a relationship”.
6. By now the relationship IRL has lasted a couple of months and you become known offline as a couple.
7. You choose this moment to make the biggest commitment it’s possible to make with the exception of buying property together or getting engaged: you announce, on Facebook, that you’re in a relationship with a specific person. Your more polite friends click on the “Like” button.
8. You write on one another’s walls and tag one another in photographs taken at braais with friends.
9. After a while, however, one – or both – of you starts to ask themselves the question that spells doom for all relationships: “Is this working?”
10. You decide that it isn’t, so you break up.
11. Now there’s a kind of arms race to be the first to change your relationship status back from “in a relationship” to “single”. Whoever gets there first effectively has more power, because they’re taking the initiative and you’re on the back foot. When it comes to the status change, he who hesitates looks like a loser.
12. Depending on the intensity of the relationship, you spend somewhere between a couple of days and several months weeping, listening to sad songs and drinking too much.
13. During this time, you will have maintained the Facebook friendship with your ex, mainly because you quite like being able to monitor what they’re up to every now and then.
14. You will have hidden their updates though, as seeing them in your newsfeed unexpectedly is too painful. Instead, you’ll allow yourself a once-weekly squizz at their profile and, from time to time, you’ll comment on a status update just to maintain a casual level of friendliness. It’s important not to be seen as "bunny boiler" material though, so you pace yourself.
15. Then one day you notice that your former love interest has changed their status from “single” to “in a relationship”. Because this signals that they have moved on, you feel an irrational sense of loss, and, in a gesture that feels oddly liberating, you unfriend them (and also any of your mutual friends who clicked ”like” on said status update).
16. One Terrific  Tuesday a couple of weeks later, you receive an SMS querying the unfriending. You assume it’s a case of drunk texting and allow yourself a quiet moment of pleasure at this incontrovertible evidence that your ex does care, a bit, after all.
17. You go back to the dating website, start chatting to someone else, and the cycle begins afresh.

Failed relationships are painful enough – and few things are more painful than failure in public.

The Emperor is Naked.

Hullo folks,how is your week so far? Mine is simply awesome.I have been engrossed in Jack Canfield's book, The Success Principles  for the past few days and I can't begin to tell you what a profound impact some of his writings have had on me,that story for another day.Moving on quickly to the real reason for this post.
I can't help but marvel at the recent Wikileaks of a certain Mr.Julius Assange (Is it just me or does this name sound Ghanaian)
I mean this guy just opened Pandora's box and all of  America and at time of this writing Europe too are hunting him down with all they got.A reliable source of mine at the Pentagon whispered into my ear that they are considering bringing Jack Bauer out of retirement for this one herculean mission.I mean who does this guy think he is, going onto the world wide web and revealing some of America's most intimate secrets.In my books he deserves a Nobel prize for courage.The Times' Magazine has him as the public's favourite to win the award of  Man of the Year 2010,so as you can see my prize is not going to the wrong man.Now for those of you my dear readers who may not be familiar with what I am talking about,Julian Assange is the man behind the recent Wikileaks that have caused unprecedented pandemonium across the world.From the sand dunes of Arabia to the coastal beaches of Mombasa,governments are up in arms about how,why,when,who,for lack of a better description allow me to use WTF.The entire world is quite flummoxed about the reports by this website.The website contains footage,statements and evidence of meetings held by highly placed government officials in the American government discussing their view of world leaders and sharing their opinions on other sovereign states across the globe.
For me,it is not as surprising as it is hilarious to find that seemingly unknown to the entire world,America keeps tabs on almost anything and everything they consider useful to their grand plan to patronize and rule over the entire world.For a very long time,America has behaved and continues to behave like the  WPD(World Police Department) and so it retains the right to obtain information about anybody and any country and use it at any appropriate time.There is a popular adage in America that says that "In America,it is not so much about who you know but what you know about who you know that can get you hired,elected,promoted,honoured or even electrocuted..," the list is endless.So for those of you who have always doubted this,the Wikileaks just lent more credence to this adage.
Despite the various attempts by America to help the world,create a better place for you and me through their various donations,charity organizations,relief aid and poverty alleviation programs,the truth still sticks out like a sore thumb.From time immemorial,America has and will continue to serve their own interests and no amount of good will or good intentions for the rest of the world will stand in their way.
I mean,,when you think about it,why would any one in their right mind keep records of such things like Col.Gaddafi's  love for  Ukrainian voluptuous women so he always travels with one of them.
If this is in any way relevant to finding a lasting solution to global warming,terrorism and the AIDS scourge across the world,then somebody speak now or forever hold your peace.The revelations by this website have needlessly put a dent in relations between America and the rest of the world and this could not have come at a worse time when the Obama administration is still at pains to explain to its citizens the repercussions of the stimulus package,the highly contested Health Bill and the plummeting public opinion of President Obama.
The reports in these leaks have undermined any efforts that President Obama has made in trying to reconcile  and repair relations with the Islamic world and I am yet to hear what he has to say about this preposterous information.
As for Julian,he continues to evade the police who have by the time of this writing issued a warrant for his arrest on charges of rape in Sweden.Well I can't comment on that for now lest I am considered an accomplice but we will just have to wait and see how this story unfolds.
And now I present to you the man.Mr.Julian Assange.

The week that was.

We have just concluded the 47th week of the year 2010 and what a week it was in the proud,sovereign state of Kenya.As the curtains are drawn on chilly  November and the long awaited for festive December comes along,Kenya and East Africa have a lot to be excited about.
This past week,folks across the globe witnessed yet another momentous feat(s) achieved by two daring Kenyans in the pursuit of excellence.Less than a fortnight ago,they were smiles form every corner of Kenya,from the humongous rift valley area to the coastal town of Mombasa,from the plains of Machakos to the tip of Mt.Kenya,the country was awash with pride and celebration for their son David Rudisha who had conquered the athletic world.A feat no Kenyan had surmounted before,David rose to become the first Kenyan to hold the IAAF world Athlete of the year award and at 21 years of age,he is the youngest ever holder of the most coveted piece of silverware in the Athletic world.Kudos to you David and kudos to Kenya.

 Moving on,before we could all catch our breath on David's triumphant exploits,we witness yet another young,exuberant,enterprising Kenyan who decided against all odds to triumph and rise above all kinds of hurdles to excel and contribute tremendously to the country and region from which he hails.
Evans Wadongo was nominated and made it to the top 10 CNN heroes for 2010,the only African on stage with the other 10 and the first representative from East Africa,Evans,at the tender age of 23(I am older than this chap and all I am spreading seems like darkness) is literally lighting up Kenya for free.At a press conference,he had this to say,
"I want to reach out to as many rural communities as possible. ... The impact is saving lives."
His home-made lanterns have provided light for families across the region.Fresh out of university,this young man made Kenya proud for his wonderful innovation that should have seen him win first spot were it not for the audacious,altruistic,compassionate Anuradha Koirala.This woman single handedly made yours truly cry in the wee hours of Saturday morning as I watched her story on CNN,(that story i will write&cry about later)
Evans is living testimony that where there is a will,there is a way.He is an inspiration to the youth world over and he is a man to watch in this 21st Century.And what better way to pose for a photo than with celebrated,drop dead gorgeous,luscious,voluptuous actress..,OK, I apologize for getting ahead of myself but here he is

To add the icing on the cake or literally put the cherry on top,a little-known lady with an amazing passion and desire to change the world with her program and education agenda  made it to the top 3 contestants of the highly acclaimed,crowd pulling,sensational NBC t.v show and premier competition, The Apprentice.Needless to say that this lady is proudly Kenyan and to say she is going places may be an understatement.

A lot is happening in Kenya and important to note is that unlike the majority of their East African counterparts,rather than bask in this unprecedented glory and achievement,folks in Kenya are writing,creating,inventing,developing new paradigms and reaching for the skies in their various fields and yours truly is left wondering if some of her more often than not sleepy counterparts(read Ug.&T.z,luckily Rwanda woke up in time)will be able to catch up with this behemoth.
I will be watching and waiting.

Adventure.101

It started out like an ordinary day in Western Nairobi(commonly known as Westy) the birds were singing,the sun was shining and the tone,mood and atmosphere was just right for what I had been planning to do for the last three weeks.I had been warned by various people that trying to climb a mountain may seem all noble,grand and exciting but when you wake up the next morning with your muscles feeling like you spent the entire night on a treadmill,then you know you should have listened.That said,the only thing I knew that would stand between me and climbing that mountain was death.I went around my morning chores like I had all the time in the world,played some nice old skool music to accompany my coffee and eggs as I fastened my shoelaces, I knew before hand that this was going to be one of those days.The calls kept coming in one after another from my lovely partner in crime(crime here being climbing the mountain) Angy who as always was charged with the responsibility of making sure that we get to Thika on time.First call,7.30a.m..,
Angy: Davis,where are you?
Davis: I am around Odeon.
Angy: I don't hear any noise in the background.
Davis: The matatu has no radio.
Angy:Davis are you sure you are@Odeon.
Davis:Angy,you are not listening,I said I am around Odeon not at Odeon..,beep,beep,beep..,do you hear that? thats a matatu.we are stuck in traffic.
Angy:Ok,let me wait.
My dear Angy,what would I do without her...I finish my coffee,jump into my boxers,oops,I meant wear my track suit and then hit the road.
I get to Waiyaki way and they are neither buses nor matatus.I wait for about 5min.and one comes by,I jump into it and off we go.Next stop Kenya cinema,a convenient meeting point for urban dwellers who are not familiar with the city like yours truly.
After several apologies and promises never to be late again to Angy and Jacky who patiently waited for us,we strolled down town to get matatus heading to Thika,the industrial centre of Kenya(I'll come to that later)
We board one of them,pay our dues and off we go.
Now if you have never travelled in a Nairobi matatu,then you won't understand the euphoric state that engulfs you when you enter one with plasma screens,surround audio system and a nice D.J(read driver)this mat(as they call them)was off the hook,in Kiswahili I would say "ngoma kwa ma3 inabamba sana.,"
..,sounds of Beenie man,Method man(I dnt really like this man),Elephant man, Kelly man and lots of other women as well wafted through the air as we travelled to Thika,setting the right kind of mood for merrier times yet to come.We left Lavy somewhere looking for a lost friend.
Isn't it rythmical the way my Kenyan people just love the letter Y,Jackie is Jacky,Angela is Angy,Laviener is Lavy,Westlands is Westy,Parklands is Parky,Tuskys is well,Tuskys...,then the one that shocked me,a gal at church called the pastor..,wait for it...,Pasy..,I am not even sure I spelt that correctly.
We got to Thika at about 10a.m and lo and behold I found  a bevy of ladies all warming up to take on the mountain.They were draped in all sorts of caps,shorts,tank tops,flip flops,straw hats,Ray Burns or is it buns.,(I have done some shopping before as you can read) We packed our gear and off we went;
Destination: Mt.Kilamambogo.
The ride there was bumpy and rough.Alfie our guide and protector made it look like we were a stone's throw away when we actually several stones(literally) away.

We finally got there.I was exhausted by this time and just wondered how I would make it to the top of the mountain if I was already tired.

But like I said the only thing that was going to stand in between me and that mountain was death.So without further ado.We paid our dues,got a female guide who looked drop dead gorgeous with her rifle slung across her back and off we went.We were reliably informed of certain hyenas that prowl the grounds looking for mountain climbers dressed exactly like us.

When we started out,it was safer to let the people who could take on the hyenas without weapons lead the way,thats why above here,you can see Angy is at the front and I am@the back pretentiously pushing those who can't climb anymore.

What was meant to be a15km journey seemed like 100km after just 6km up the steepy slope.The muscles got weary and some felt like they would rather die than climb anymore.Yours truly was not ruffled.Remember I had been preparing for this.We almost called the ambulance but they too couldn't risk going up the slope even for our dear friend Grace.

It was tough,it wasn't easy.Only the strong could manage this herculean task.

The strides grew smaller and the gasps louder as we went.The law of the jungle says,
Only the strong survive and strong indeed some of us were.

Clearly Shiko couldn't believe she had made it.

Naomi proved why she could have gone on to beat Rudisha had her parents let her pursue athletics and not academics.
Together we basked at the top of Mt.Kilamambogo.

Don't ask me where the guys were,I have no idea.May be they just didn't make it..,
The trip down was nothing short of a tumble here,a stumble there as we ran down helter-skelter..,

Little did I know that our next destination was the 14Falls,if I had been told earlier,I would have worn my boxers so as to be able too swim,but I guess they knew how scary a sight I would be,especially for the foreigners,so they kept me out of the loop.
Now,if you live in Kenya and haven't been to the 14 Falls then you should be ashamed of yourself.This place was just what we were looking for after the long tedious climb.Presenting to you the Falls.

Now,I thought I had had my fill of fun when some one suggested we go for a boat ride..,(to be cont'd)
first the falls.

you see they were actually some other guy(s) beside myself.

Crossing the murky waters.

Angy spreading the love.

 Everybody spreading the love.
And now I present to you the best part of the entire adventure.It was a 5min.ride on an 8 seater boat(we were 14) from one end of the falls to the next.Ideally,it should take 5min.ours lasted 15min.I have never seen more people scared of water in my whole life.

 And as you would have guessed,while everyone was screaming,shouting and holding on for their dear lives,yours truly was sitted back doing this.

Special thanks to the people who organized this wonderful adventure and gave me the opportunity to;
1.See a part of Kenya,I didn't know.
2.Laugh my heart out.
3.Enjoy the after party....,
Special thanks go to Vig,Alfie&Angy..,u made this happen and for that you take my award for couple of the day.

And the lovely photographer who enabled this blog to have such lovely pics,Emmah,my childhood sweetheart.

Asante Sana..,

French Attack.

"My French classes have not done much to improve my French, but they have made me aware of a truly alarming malaise in our own culture. The French are taking over the English language - perhaps as a prelude to revoking the Louisiana Purchase, reclaiming Canada, and reversing the result of the Napoleonic Wars.

: : When I started a dossier on this phenomenon, with the intention of publishing an exposé, I uncovered an embaras de richesses. The French invasion of our language began with the Norman invasion of England in 1066, and (plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose) it continues today, under cover of a clever masquerade. We are constantly told that the French language is being destroyed by a mélange of English words. It's something of a cause célèbre here that English clichés like "le weekend" and "le snack bar" are polluting their precious vocabulary. My riposte is that, au contraire, it is the English language that is being polluted. French words have been imported en masse. As we say au revoir to the fin de siècle, we scarcely know which language we are speaking any more.

: : If you are something of a bon vivant, you know that French has long been the language of haute cuisine. We go to the bistro for hors d'oeuvres and an entrée, à la carte, wish one another bon appetit, and wonder whether the plat du jour of chicken à la king would be more piquant with a soupçon of bouquet garni. But food is only the tip of the iceberg. The French have pulled off a tour de force of verbal imperialism, claiming carte blanche to rewrite the entire English language, and I don't see any chance of a rapprochement unless we isolate the whole French nation behind a linguistic cordon sanitaire.

: : As a writer, I can't afford to be blasé about this. My native tongue is en route to becoming a pastiche, or even a purée. Sometimes, faute de mieux, I find myself using a French word, because it happens to be the mot juste. But consider this: if an English-speaking person is looking for a job, he or she must send out a short account of their work experience - not an old-fashioned Latin curriculum vitae but a subversive French resumé. In today's laissez-faire economy, where nouveau riche entrepreneurs are too blasé to read a whole life history, it might be more à propos for candidates to send a précis of their resumé, or even a simple aide memoire.

: : My cri de coeur went unheeded by the Chargé d'Affaires at the British Council, who dismissed my concerns as outré. I discussed the problem, tête à tête, with my French teacher. She is a connoisseur of language, and I thought we had a good rapport. But it was déjà vu all over again. She was quite brusque, and we soon reached an impasse. "This is some stupid bête noire of the English," she said." It's completely passé. It is never comme il faut to use French words in English."

: : If there is any good news in this sad story, it is that I'll soon be able to speak French perfectly, simply by speaking English. So my raison d'etre for learning the language is rapidly disappearing, and may soon receive the coup de grâce. The triumph of French over English is almost a fait accompli."

: Merde!

Mon Dieu, why did I write that?

                                                                                                            David K.

IFEA2010 in pictures.

The story wouldn't be complete without the comedian Hannigton Bugingo himself.

Our very own resident D.J D-Lite.Now,i haven't met a man who knew more about Old Skool than James Brown.

We danced the night away till we had to tilt our heads to be able to see straight.

The pool by night made me wish I could live here forever.

When I said a melting pot of cultures,this is what I meant, from Central Asia through North America down south to East Africa we sojourned across the entire world.

When I say we talked about issues ranging from world peace to caviar,this is what the dessert looked like.

Imagining a Future for you and me.

Imagining a Future for you and me.

We waited patiently and unwearingly for the Imagined event like our lives depended on it.The planning had taken several months most of which yours truly was conspicuously absent but as fate would have it,the min.he showed face,he was thrown head fast into the deep end of the planning process and being the man that he is,he took the proverbial bull by it's horns and carried on without complaint charging through October like he was wounded.The first of it's kind,the Imagining Futures Event(E.A) 2010 was an event that aimed at bringing together a diverse group of minds to interact,reflect and debate a range of issues linked to regional creativity,the knowledge economy and the place of the arts and new media in East Africa in this 21 Century(a recurrent theme of mine)It sought to inform the thoughts surrounding curriculum development for the AgaKhan University Faculty of Arts&Science.
The first day was filled with expectation so thick you could slice it with a knife,hope,a strong desire on our part to execute the best conference ever in the cosmopolitan city that Nairobi is.Nothing was left to chance,we were all charged with the sole duty of making sure this event was a success and a success we intended to make.
The team was thin on numbers but extravagant on ideas,creativity,enthusiasm,energy, and timely precision.We had;
Yvonne;the brain child and ingenious architect.

Mike;the creative sculptor

Reshma: the artistic dancer

Janet:the meticulous planner

Mercy: the busy bee

Davis:the nocturnal technician.

The venue was the plush,ostentatious,grandiose,brazen,posh(feel free to add to the adjectives)Tribe hotel nested conveniently away from the hustle and bustle of the street life providing a serene almost heavenly ambience.

It was specifically chosen since it matched our ambitions,objectives,style,elegance,poise and most of all because it provided the right haven for a melting pot of cultures,ideas and insights to bubble all the way to the top where we could effortlessly extract them.
Given the circumstances,our participants willingly obliged and together we laughed,sang,danced and talked about a myriad of topics from world peace to caviar.

Good Ol' days.

Remember the good ol' days? It was a time when bread cost a nickel, people were kind to one another, and life seemed so simple. "Ah the good ol' days... if only life were like this today, then I would be happy and successful". Shyeaa... right.

The concept of the "good ol' days" must be one of our society's biggest delusions, top reasons for depression, as well as most often used excuse for lack of success. It is the gloomy belief that the world is headed downhill and life was "better" at some time in the past. Believers of this theory of gloom and doom make excuses for their lack of success by proclaiming, "if only...".

Here is a little known fact: people tend to focus on past successes and current problems. To rephrase, our minds tend to remember our own past successes as well as past global successes made by society without acknowledging the failures. Our minds also tend to focus on our current problems, no matter how insignificant. When thinking about inflation, people tend to remember when bread cost a nickel but forget that they made only ten cents an hour. Or they think about how clean the air was before automobiles, but forget about not being able to walk on a city street without stepping in horse poop. As you can see, this creates a skewed or unfair perception of reality by seeing only the successes of the past and the problems of today.

When were the good ol' days? Back in the days of colonial America where our "kinder" ancestors treated people as property? How about the early 20th century when polio was killing tens of thousands of children? The 1930s where Nazism was growing rapidly? The '40s with WWII, the '60s with the spread of drugs, the '80s with cell phones the size of toasters? The truth is that the "good ol' days" are today. It has been said, that which does not kill us, makes us stronger. As a global society, the same concept holds true: that which does not destroy us, makes us wiser and better. It is because of slavery we now have civil rights, it is because of the holocaust we have a deeper compassion for differences in the human race, and it is because of the Internet bust we have a more stable economy today.

Realize that the good ol' days are today. The world is full of opportunities today that did not exist yesterday. Every day both science and technology improve allowing people to live longer, healthier lives. Information is readily available at the speed of light allowing us to expand our minds like never before in history. Embrace today as the best time in history, for there is no better time to pursue your dreams.

The above article is from the book "Year To Success", a 366 day course in personal achievement. Visit this page tomorrow for the next article in the book.

It was a bright sunny day, the sun shone extravagantly on all of God’s grandiose creation; the birds were singing lovely mellow tunes that echoed across the entire cosmos. It was a beautiful day. In a little known hospital somewhere in the land that Winston Churchill famously called the Pearl of Africa, a bouncing baby boy was born, his first gasp of air filled his frail little lungs with excitement as he cried out as if to announce his grand entrance into the universe.
That little boy stands before you 24 years later to metaphorically break the ice.
The last of four children, it was quite surprising, infact puzzling to find out that the biological distance between my three siblings was at most 2 years, however between me and the nearest sibling, stood not 1,not 2,not 3 but a staggering 8 years of inactivity, surely this was no coincidence. As is often the case with some families, some things are just not, planned for and as such I was rightfully labelled Tashobya which in my mother tongue means God’s work is never erroneous because he doesn’t make mistakes and consequently I was not as a result of an unplanned nocturnal adventure but the product of God’s timely dispensation.
Crawling around in my diapers with siblings old enough to use me as a soccer ball was no easy task because believe you me, I became a source of entertainment for my older brothers who figured that it was more interesting to kick around a ball that could make some sort of sound.
I grew fast and quick and sought solace in my school mates. The formative years of school were nothing but bliss as we ran helter-skelter and played from dusk till dawn. The number of people beating me in the name of discipline increased exponentially since now it appeared to me that between my school and home, there seemed a grand conspiracy to reduce the size of my sitting equipment and fine tune my audio receptors as if I was partially deaf.
As the beatings increased, I toughened, my skin became taut and almost totally oblivious of the pain inflicted by the sticks and sometimes stones. It was fun. I really miss it.
Boarding life came as a much anticipated relief and break from the humdrum of school-home, home-school and with it came a refreshing sense of freedom like never before. I was thrown into the deep end of a Seventh Day Adventist Institution that among many other things taught me that Saturday was the day of rest. This I found quite exciting because it meant that the weekend started early no classes Friday afternoon, songs of praise and worship in the evening and a serene, calm almost heavenly ambience that ensured that we all rested regardless of class, denomination or urgency of exam preparation. It was fun, I miss it.
The years went by pretty fast, O-Levels done, A-levels came first and silent, 2 years to digest why Napoleon and Hitler should have lived long enough to be punished. I could not fathom why on earth they had us studying about dead unpopular men but this I was not at liberty to decide so it was while here that I developed a voracious appetite for the written word and this held me in good stead as I traversed the country debating, arguing and trying to convince everyone why I am right and they are wrong.
As if on cue, I was sent packing to the one place where I could meet like-minded people who were bent on telling me why they are right and I am wrong. Suffice to say that battle still dwells on.
I studied, wrote and travelled extensively. I went to Lowood to meet the gracious Helen Burns, went to Thornfield to have tea at Rochester’s palatial abode and flew to Ireland to meet Peter the mayor and his effervescent brother Dr. Stockman, a true friend of the people. I went to West Africa where I met Ousmene Sembene as he fought for God’s little bits of wood. I travelled far and wide and on one of my many expeditions, I met a very famous Kenyan writer who had this to say to me, “When a bird in flight grows weary, it perches on the nearest branch.” And to honour him for this wonderful observation, I decided to perch here in Nairobi where I have been for the last 2 months working with the Agakhan University.