I conjured up this idea a long time ago. The prevailing circumstances would make me appear like a bitter and grumpy human being with a grudge against the world. To be honest, I am bitter and grumpy that this idea might not be relevant today. And I blame it squarely on Arsenal because the idea is about Arsenal – the old Arsenal that served heartbreaks to Arsenal fans every weekend. Arsenal still serves heartbreaks, but it serves the wrong people.
I must admit that a significant portion of my short-lived happiness comes from the misery of Arsenal fans. I have no doubt that the feeling is mutual among Arsenal fans. Although happiness was always short-lived, it was always worth it because it served one single purpose – Man Utd is the greatest team on earth and all planets that might support life. I speak for many a football fan when I say that the greatest and the happiest moment is seeing your rivals suffering defeat after defeat. It had been like that until a man from Spain decided to upset the natural order of things.
The banter no longer sends Arsenal fans whimpering with tails between their legs like stray dogs. They are at the top of the table for God’s sake. And we are seeing their true colors. They are printing the EPL table and posting them side by side with posters of those waganga kutoka Kitui. Because some of us still have a few brain cells that have not been tampered with by substances, we patiently wait for the day they will be humbled.
It hurt my ego, a long time ago, when I chanced upon a kid clad in full Arsenal regalia. The kid was not even old enough to use the toilet without the help of an adult. According to my estimation, the kid’s parents were committing a punishable crime. I would have called the Kenyan equivalent of Child Protection Services. But I didn’t solely because I did not feed that kid, and neither did I help it use the toilet.
In hindsight, I should have called the authorities. We do not need another Arsenal fan. The ones we have are already too much for us, especially this season. In fact, I wonder why scientists are yet to discover a device that predicts with 99.9% accuracy which club newborn babies will end up supporting. Those whose results will show that there is a negligible percentage that they will be Arsenal fans will straight away be condemned to be laborers.
If you have gotten this far, I would like to let you know that I have nothing against Arsenal fans. However, I am pretty sure Arsenal fans have similar thoughts, perhaps even worse. Well, once we are done with petty distractions called football, we all become human again as we try not to starve, have a place to put our heads, and have a few coins left to finance our worldly obsessions. I am no better, except I believe I support a far superior team. Which is true as far as this article is concerned.
I firmly believe that nobody should be coerced to support any team whatsoever. I can’t explain how I became a Man Utd fan. I can’t pinpoint the exact time or place where I made a pact with the gods of football to become overly excited by Man Utd’s wins and become really depressed when it loses. By God, it’s a team thousand of miles away, and how it exerts such unexplainable influence over people. It’s beyond me. It probably has something to do with drugs.
As a young man who still thought the world catered to everyone’s whims, I had nothing better to do with my life except wait for the weekend to troop to watch Man Utd. I would make a solitary trip to Flax, the nearest shopping center, and feast my eyes on the magic Fergie had cooked that weekend. But when the old Scott called it quits, we realized how painful losing consistently is. We’ve barely won anything notable recently. And the fact that Arsenal might just win the league is unfathomable.
But tonight, the elephant will tumble down the tree. I am looking forward to it more than anything else because peace, world hunger, and climate change depend on it.
May the Pep win.
She isn't interested in your wishful
rhymes,
Mere verses don't make you a knight
Unless the verses are a bridge
To the lands where her heart beats faster
A land where she opens her heart to love
I have an
unhealthy dislike for the police. It grates my heart and mind in a weird sort
of way because I can’t turn this dislike into something useful. I am pretty
sure scientists would have found a way to harness my hatred and turn it into
electricity. Unfortunately, they are busy with important things such as
searching for pictures of naked wires on the internet. It isn’t even a
marketable 21st-century skill.
I have been kidnapped (I can’t call it an arrest) several
times by police. As per their usual MO (modus operandi), they ask you to pay
ransom for you to secure your freedom. If you have never thought deeply as I
have, freedom is the second fastest-selling product in the world after Jesus.
And if you give a gun and uniform to a person to a person who uses his brains
purely for aesthetic purposes, people will get arrested for peculiar reasons.
For instance, a friend of mine was once arrested for allegedly walking like a
Chinese.
The reason for my last kidnapping incident is even
weirder than fiction. I was kidnapped in connection with J.P. Magufuli’s death.
I am not making this up. I am also not abusing any mind-altering substances. My
conscience is crystal clear as I type this. The boys in blue appeared without
warning, proudly donning their ugly uniforms and armed as though we were
hardcore criminals. Thinking about it now, we actually were. Imagine a whole
head of state lying in state.
They began joking with us, pretending that they were
humans. How they fooled us!!! A police officer can go from human to a police
officer in approximately 3.59 seconds. You barely even notice it. All you
notice is you being hounded into the back of a police pickup, escorted with the
vilest insults ever known to man. It seems they teach it in their curriculum
assuming they have one.
The police are also taught one very important slogan: gari ya polisi haijai. We were forced to stack ourselves like crates
every time they kidnapped more people. When they were satisfied, the police
pick-up made its way to the station. It was then that we knew why we were being
kidnapped.
“Don’t you know Magufuli is dead!!?” One of them kept
saying. We all kept quiet since we could hardly breathe.
It was during the Covid period with the curfews and the
social distancing nonsense. It beat logic that we were crammed in a police
pick-up when we were required to keep social distance. But then policemen and
women aren’t known for logic. It just isn’t their strongest suit, which
probably makes them more qualified.
I do not dispute the fact that there are good cops.
However, you will never meet them because they give the rest a bad
reputation.
despite your
imperfections
you loved the best way
you could,
and that best was the
only way you knew,
but she wanted more
to fill the void
inside,
to erase the traumas,
she went through
and the insufficient
hugs she got,
but with all these
demands,
your simple love
simply wasn't enough
you were not enough
every single day you went
a step further,
scaled the cliched mountains and swam
across oceans
but in the end, you realised
you exhausted yourself for nothing
she wasn't worth jumping over a mole hill
she wasn't worth skipping a puddle
she wasn't even enough for herself
she never even loved herself
I am no Romeo, I suffer no illusions about my upbringing, there was no rodeo, down the Kerio valley, in case you are thinking you are Juliet, I'll be out there, looking for Chebet
