Items by Tamaku

Diary of a gay Kenyan

• A giant amongst dwarfs

  Posted: September 26, 2011, 1:11 pm by Tamaku

  
  RIP Wangari Maathai, Nobel Peace Laureate and environmental activist.Tamaku

  
  

• This is a quick note to say ...

  Posted: July 26, 2011, 8:01 pm by Tamaku

  This is a quick note to say that we're all alive and well, just been busy doing some 'maintenance'.
  
  Check back soon. xxxTamaku

  
  

• Obama says Osama 'dead'

  Posted: May 2, 2011, 10:42 am by Tamaku

  We're watching Citizen TV where President Obama is giving a statement from the White House to announce that fugitive terrorist Osama bin Laden has been killed. Whoop!Tamaku

  
  

• What would Jomo make of all this?

  Posted: April 8, 2011, 7:59 pm by Tamaku

  I'm sitting at home watching Live NTV showing Uhuru Kenyatta, son of Kenya's founding president, appearing at the Hague accused of crimes against humanity. Looks like the penny has just dropped...Tamaku

  
  

• 'The Ocampo Six' released today at the Hague

  Posted: April 7, 2011, 3:09 pm by Tamaku

  A blockbuster featuring three Politicians, one Civil Servant, a Policeman and a Midget. Crimes against Humanity - shot entirely on location in Kenya. An Impunity Production by Tribal Films.Tamaku

  
  

• Normal service resumes shortly

  Posted: April 2, 2011, 12:52 pm by Tamaku

  Hello sweeties. I'm ok, George is well too. In fact I left him in our bed purring away - it's a story for another day. I'm at the Muthaiga roundabout in traffic listening to Classic 105 heading for a 9 o'clock meeting at Parklands Sports Club with the insurance guy.

  Should I disclose that I've recently received death threats?

  
  Sent from my iPhone® wireless deviceTamaku

  
  

• Someone needs a doctor (this is the end of Lavish living)

  Posted: March 16, 2011, 3:48 pm by Tamaku

  Monday night 7th March I was driving home at about 9pm listening to The Jump Off on Homeboyzradio, hosted I think by Corine. By the way Corine is a killer DJ with mad skills if you like your r n b and rap. I was in my white shirt and tie from a meeting but now feeling like a gangster listening to Black & Yellow, Eminen ft Dr Dre, and the ilk of Rihanna, etcetera etcetera. I can still hear Dr Dre in my head - I started this gangster shit and this the motherfucking thanks I get. And, Ring Ding Dong. I bet you only true aficionados will appreciate Me Against The world and What You Won't Do For Love by Tupac. But the best poetry ever must be from Tupac - you claim to be a playa but I fucked your wife. Ouch, Biggie that must have hurt. Before I forget, Nate Dogg, who went to be with the Creator 15th March 2011; RIP son, you were the true regulator. People in my professional circles would be dismayed to discover my tastes in music, lol. Sorry to digress but DJ Corine always sounds extra perky, sassy like she's clenching a mechanical rabbit to death. For the record I love a girl without a speed governor who knows girls should also enjoy sex by taking control and going on top. Factual. Yes, indeedy I do.
  
  I was feeling very horny about Gee and me, reminiscing how things were so sweet between us before Lavish and the way I messed up. My team members at work say I've become a real arsehole to be around. I know it's only because I haven't had any gay sex in 2011 although I had an ego boost boning one of Kenya's finest - Lavish Maingi. As a result my confidence is now at sky-high, I feel like I have the world at my feet. On the home-front George and I are now on 80% normal talking terms but still sleeping apart. We got stewed together Saturday night on Skyy vodka and cranberry juice while re-watching a DVD of that disturbing American comedy Testees. If you haven't watched it then I suggest you do so asap, it's one of life's sexless orgasms. That night we started to reconnect again, we cuddled together on the floor wrapped inside a sleeping bag. I was disappointed because nothing happened to quench my fleshly desires but we did kiss and the passion is still there. I guess my recent badness is still a sore point with Gee but I'm working on fixing things. The healing process may take long but I have hope as luckily for me Gee is a fair man who knows that deep down I'm not evil, I'm only human.
  
  So last week after I passed the Village Market guess who called me? You won't believe it but it was partner in crime Lavish. She had come down to Nairobi for the Ce'cile show and she'd called me on Saturday morning saying she wanted to take me to the concert but I said no baby I've got to try fix my relationship and atone for my mistakes. Also I'm a coward who heeded the Police Commissioner’s warning about possible al Shabaab attacks where crowds are gathered. In fact my sixth sense tells me an event is imminent; not if, but when - so be extra vigilant especially where Westerners frequent. That said, sources tell me there was at least a platoon of armed GSU on standby at the Carnivore.
  
  When Lavish called she said hi I'm at the hotel lying in bed naked drinking brandy and my body is on fire, I need you now. I said no Lavish please leave me alone and find someone else to put out those flames. Reader, please proceed with caution: Then she said I'm so wet touching myself, I need to feel you. She said I want you here now to cum and make a baby then I'll leave you alone. Of course everyone knows I enjoy sex and don’t buy that nimechill bullshit, but 'thou shall not engage in casual skin to skin' is my 11th Commandment. That's when I finally concluded that Lavish is a bit of a nutcase and not worth all the trouble. Before I switched my mobile off I said sorry but you want to bareback just like that?! WHAT WE HAD IS FINITO. You're crazier than even I can handle; baby you seriously need to see a doctor....Tamaku

  
  

• Kalonzo Musyoka has egg all over his face (I wish it was vomit)

  Posted: March 10, 2011, 2:46 pm by Tamaku

  Nationmedia are reporting that Kenya's bid to defer the ICC case against Kenya Ocampo Six (KeOS) is dead in the water as the US refuses to back VP Musyoka's representations. Welcome, though predictable news.

  When the epitaph for Kenya's Vice President is written it should read: 'Here lies that backstabbing, snake-in-the-grass, hireling of bloodsucking vampires and poster child for impunity.'

  
  Sent from my iPhone® wireless deviceTamaku

  
  

• Overcoming minor Inconveniences

  Posted: March 9, 2011, 6:32 pm by Tamaku

  I'm still at the Stanley but now I'm at the Exchange Bar watching India vs Netherlands ICC 2011 Cricket World Cup live on Supersport. Because life is too short, I'm sorry but I refuse to let work get in the way of my leisure. BTW, if you're at work don't work too hard because it's rarely worth it!

  Cheers, I blame the change in plans on all this wonderful sunshine that I see flooding in through the windows....Tamaku

  
  

• Halfway to success deserves a cold one

  Posted: March 9, 2011, 4:28 pm by Tamaku

  I'm feeling quite pleased with myself this lunchtime having crossed a milestone on the project we're working on. On a more personal note, George and I are taking baby steps towards getting our issues resolved.

  So I've stopped by to have a Tusker malt lager (or two) at the Thorntree instead of lunch. And fuck the Mututho alcohol rules; they don't apply to top dogs like me, lol! My ulcers won't thank me though, more lol! xxxTamaku

  
  

• Mouth-watering sights around Nairobi

  Posted: March 9, 2011, 12:35 pm by Tamaku

  
  I had lunch yesterday at Dormans on Mama Ngina Street. I prefer that cafe to Java which is always crowded and has long felt like a Mogadishu souk. I was served by Bernard who is very good looking, strong and black just the way I like my tea. He previously worked at the Junction branch where I'm sure he left many hearts broken. Lunch (see pic) was a delicious chilli burger topped with melted cheese and chillied fries that I smothered in ketchup. I also had a coke to cool my tongue because of all the chilli but I'd definitely recommend it especially at just ksh 500.
  
  

  
  After lunch I still had some time to kill so I walked up towards the City Market enjoying the sunshine and checking out the beautiful people of Nairobi behind my dark shades. You'd never in a million years guess who I came across. Imagine coming face to face with UK TV presenter and heartthrob Reggie Yates casually strolling along Koinange Street! I couldn't believe my eyes and what a fine, fine sight (mmmm) he makes in real life. Dude was standing at least 6 foot tall in a tight t-shirt showing chiselled arms covered in beautiful tattoo ink. He was wearing what I'm reliably informed are jodhpurs (I want a pair NOW) and chunky fuck-me military boots. The hunk was also well accessorised with a monster SLR camera round his large right hand. Pure magic.
  
  It's no secret that Nairobi is a playground of the rich and famous but this was still a big surprise. I tapped Reggie on the shoulder said hey, UK man, he turned, looked at me and -credit to him - he looked unflustered as he smiled and said 'wassup' back at me. Shame I wasn't quick enough to snap a pic. Take if from me it was still a pleasurable though brief encounter....Tamaku

  
  

• How to look half your age

  Posted: March 2, 2011, 2:23 pm by Tamaku

  
  Sheila remarked the other day, 'your skin is so soft; what's the secret?' As a gay man I pay more attention than your average woman to my looks. My daily regime includes a foaming cleanser, a base of sun protection factor 25 moisturiser and finally a thin mask of a re-hydrating moisturiser. Currently I find that Clinique products work best for me so I've deployed the full arsenal to my dressing table (see pic) with excellent results.
  
  

  
  Previously I used Creme de la mer regularly (courtesy of Christmas, birthday, anniversary, fuckfest prezzies from a grateful ex, lol!). I still have half a tub left over sitting by my sink. However, even though it's very effective at hiding wrinkles there's no way I can justify the chunky price tag.Tamaku

  
  

• Jesus & Judas (Go to Simba Soul)

  Posted: February 27, 2011, 9:36 pm by Tamaku

  The past week has been hellish. After George pronounced the death of our relationship I begged and begged him to forgive me and reconsider but it was soon clear his mind was made up. I even employed the diplomatic culinary persuasions of Imelda but still he would not budge. The way to this man's heart is definitely not his stomach. Contrary to what many people thought, this new chapter in our life did not mean that George was severing contact with me. Luckily for me, my ex (sounds weird to me, I think I'm still in denial like Gaddafi) has only moved across the hall into another bedroom. I feel sad but also happy that George was confident in the depth of our relationship to still count me as a friend for life if not part of the family. We've traveled a long bumpy journey together I just hope we can navigate this rough patch and emerge wiser if not patched up. Thankfully God exists because here in Nairobi we are enjoying excellent weather after the frightening rainstorms of just two weeks ago. To those of you in the northern hemisphere, let me tell you that I never knew warmer wall to wall sunshine nor powder-bluer skies. I'm looking around for a hammock; fingers crossed by the time I find one, George will agree to lie in it with me. After all what's the point of a hammock if you can't be uncomfortable in it with the person that you love?
  
  I've coped with the breakup by working really hard on an interesting client brief which has meant paths crossing with brilliant people I previously worked with including bff Sheila. Motherhood definitely suits her, and my officially soon-to-be godson baby Matt is coming along a treat. We work till 10 pm most days, by the time I get home George is already tucked away in his room. I can tell he's waiting for me to come home because his bedroom lights only go out when I climb the last step on the stairs and open the door to what used to be our room. Thursday night I tapped on his door and whispered goodnight. Gee was quiet for like two minutes though I heard our favorite Ce'cile cd playing softly...love you when you're gone. Then he said slowly sweet dreams, honey! My heart skipped some beats to hear his sexy drawl, I think there's more than a spark there, perhaps still some smoldering embers. For now I just curl up naked in bed where George used to sleep, tossing and turning tortured that he's only sleeping next door. I cover my face with one of his t-shirts sniffing his scent and soaking away my streams of hot regret tears. With my old tattered Raymonds Polar Bear blanket from my childhood wrapped round the pillow I manage to fall asleep just before 3 am. It's not ideal and I'm beginning to notice that I'm not firing on all cylinders by mid-afternoon. If it carries on like this I'll get myself off to Dr Njenga's for a prescription to help me sleep easier. The project I'm working on has a lot riding on it leaving no room for stupid errors. I know some of you who believe in love and the fallibility of mere mortals (I'm not talking of you kasaperekarembo) continue to pray for me, so I hope it won't come to a psychiatrist's couch.
  
  What of elephant-in-the-room, Lavish daughter of Maingi? Well, she sent me a package by G4S Courier the other day; yeah I was also surprised when it arrived given that company's recent local incompetence. Imelda signed for a set of 4 sumptuous boxer shorts in large made from 95% cotton and 5% Lycra. They are a snug, velvet glove-like fit, very much like how I remember her little manicured hands. I'm not veerry endowed in that department (I'm average, Imelda made a good guess, lol) therefore smooth little hands wrapped around my toolbox are always more than welcome but that's another story, hahaha. Also with the package was a carefully crafted personal message. L2mm dear, hope you don't mind me sharing parts of that letter, which I later shredded, with my readers. In it she surmises that I'm not really gay or even bi, she accuses me of exhibiting classic psycho sexual-predator symptoms by blowing hot and cold thereby creating dependence all for my gratification. It's not the first time I've being called that, btw. I on the other hand feel like I'm getting manipulated from different angles. Or to put it in sheng, naona kuna ujanja unago. Oddly enough I'm enjoying both the attention and deprivation equally - I can't work out what about these two very diverse creatures lights up sensual areas of my brain like fireworks.
  
  Oh, Lavish pto'd her missive with the bombshell:I love you and I want to have your baby! It's all too much for me to handle. Tonight I'll just let my hair down, I'm heading off to The Simba Saloon with Sheila for some alcoholic beverages (dawa, anyone?) and nostalgic eighties soul music. You can find us canoodling - seated away from the crowd - in the 'Jo'burg' part of the club. I asked George if he wanted to join us he said he'll think about it but he hasn't given me a decision. We've just devoured a rather juicy water melon from the fridge together which is a good sign, I think know he'll come out too.Tamaku

  
  

• I take responsibility for all my actions (I'm sorry)

  Posted: February 24, 2011, 5:32 pm by Tamaku

  I finally escaped from the delectable black widow-clutches of Lavish on Wednesday morning because she had to leave for Kilifi. For the first time since those events I was a bag of nerves over breakfast thinking about George and my squalid actions of the last few days. She remarked are you always this grumpy in the morning even after you've had your sweeties? I don't know why but Lavish in broad daylight was already beginning to grate on me. I said 'excuse me if I'm not giving you my full undivided attention but I think my lust for you almost certainly lost me the only man I ever loved completely.' I remembered a line from "Good Girls" that song by Joe - why are all the good girls taken everytime. Lavish paused to put the glass of orange juice down and said tell me it wasn't all worth it because you were more than a willing participant. We were sitting downstairs at the Thorntree cafe looking out where they are extending the sidewalks further out to Kimathi Street. She continued, 'look at me and tell me you never want to see me again and I'll walk away.' I was staring at her breasts, now covered in a lavender crisp business shirt, where I'd rested my head the previous night. I felt nothing. But she knew me a little bit better to be confident that having binged on her juice I could never forget her easily. A tear rolled down my cheek as we embraced bye bye yet my crucifixion was only just starting.
  
  When I got home it was mid morning, the sky was a hazy blue from all the Nairobi sunshine but my skin was cold. George was not in which was fine because i assumed he was away at work. Imelda looked at me with an accusing eye when she came to meet me in the hallway, I said I'm sorry pal for causing so much pain; she just nodded as she handed me an envelope from George. It was a Valentine's card with the love message crossed out. On the other face he had written 'To the love of my life, Tamaku', then: 'You have broken my heart in a million pieces with your cruelty. I've gone away to Eburru to be with Ken and Mwangi. Don't know when I'll be back. ' Signed, Yours Gee, and he had drawn a smiley of a sad face. I felt that dull, cutting pain where my heart should be. My near-perfect world was exploding around me and I had only myself to blame. Well, myself and the intoxicating charms of one Ms Lavish Mwanaisha Maingi (L2M for short). Mostly self-inflicted because she hadn't tied me to any bed.
  
  I'll be a liar if I didn't confess to you that I also felt a deep sense of shame. I had let George down and people that I thought were my friends some whom I met through this blog instantly became hostile. It's no exaggeration that from the slew of emails received I have become the most detested Kenyan gay blogger. Someone even threatened to slash my penis and pour lemon juice on the cuts before cutting my balls off and stuffing them in my mouth! I was stymied to discover how many people think they know what's best for me, thanks for the concern btw. Later that afternoon I picked up myself from the floor and called George. We spoke for ten minutes but all I remember is I was sobbing like a baby saying sorry, so sorry honey. George on the other end was cool, his voice emotionless, not saying much just that he would be back when he was ready.
  
  So I spent the rest of the week in a state of mourning and depression. Somehow I did manage to put in some long hours in a project that I'm working on although my heart wasn't in it. Saturday night just before midnight Lavish called me from Kilifi, she said I see you've been writing about us because she discovered this blog. She said you'll make people think I'm a heartless bitch but I don't care much for the opinions of strangers. Then she said to guess what colour panties she was wearing and I replied baby, whatever colour it is, it must be on fire but I don't feel like the phone-sex thingy tonight. She said wrong answer; I'm not wearing any now. I called to tell you I must have you for myself soon or I'll die. I said baby you won't die, but please, give me some space because I have many issues on my plate that need attending to at the moment. That night I unwisely drunk myself silly in a vain attempt to assuage my tormented soul and fall asleep.
  
  George finally came back home early Sunday evening. We had spoken a few times more but I wasn't getting through to him the way I desperately wanted. I was still unforgiven and from his tone I sensed I could soon be forgotten. How foolish had I been and for what? I feared I had traded true love and security for lust and heady adoration that had left me feeling unfulfilled. I knew that George needed me (which I like) while with Lavish I would just be a trophy (soiled goods really) or a plaything at best (which I'm not used to). Sorry Lavish, but are you really a keeper? Am I not just another conquest, a notch on you bed post? After George had his shower and changed his clothes we sat in the patio silently enjoying the breeze. The air was heavy with the tension then he just cleared his throat and my heart stopped:
  
  'Tam, it's over between us.'Tamaku

  
  

• My Valentine's Day & Night (Will I ever be forgiven?)

  Posted: February 19, 2011, 10:38 pm by Tamaku

  Continued from here:
  
  I took a taxi to the hotel which was only 40 minutes. When I got to Lavish's room she opened the door and I dropped the suitcase inside, closed the door quietly and we kissed. She was wearing a long t-shirt and nothing else. It felt better and sweeter than the first time. Without saying a word I scooped her to the bed and we made love, she told me when I say no to you I always mean yes. Yes we made music, I finally understood what Chris Martin means on Paper Loving (Cardiac Bass Riddim) when he sings If you cyaan love me now, Don't love me later when my later is much greater...
  
  We both cried real tears by the time we finished, that's how intense it was. I'm not saying that I'm a stud (far from it) or that Lavish is the best lover but it felt so special I even feel guilty telling you about it. Then we ordered room service and ate in bed. In fact we didn't leave the bed until Monday afternoon when we came downstairs to the Thorntree cafe. Over biscuits and tea lavish said Baby I told you I always get what I want. I didn't know what to say. I just said I think you reset my sexuality. She looked at me with her big eyes and took my hands in hers. Yes Tamaku, I was sent to reset your sexuality to straight and it will be set permanent at straight as long as I'm around. My head was spinning but all I could see was George's face. I told Lavish I love George. She said I know, because I met him when I came to your place and saw how you are together. She said I'll give you time to decide because I know you are mine forever. Then we went back to the suite, we made love again and fell asleep.
  
  When we woke up it was almost six in the evening. The air in the suite was damp from the rain mixed with the sweet dizzying smell of sex and we had to get ready for dinner. I rang the restaurant that I'd reserved for George and me to cancel because I couldn't bring myself to go there with Lavish. Then I rang my old assistant Jemima from when I used to have a proper job, I said please superwoman I need dinner for two somewhere nice tonight. Jemima, bless her, called me back in ten minutes and said you have a table at Fogo Gaucho for nine pm. By this time Lavish was in the bath her face floating over bubbles so I joined her. She looked like a mermaid in the water, there are few women who are as beautiful as Lavish is. Because of that fact we made love again, we almost missed our reservation, lol! On the way to Westlands for dinner I called George. He sounded happy, I think he was tipsy. He said I'm at home with Imelda and her son we are having a Valentine's dinner. I said cool, I miss you guys, I'll see you tomorrow. So that's how Valentine's was - me and Lavish at Fogo Gaucho and then later at Black Diamond for some drinks and leg shaking. In the back of the taxi to Black D Lavish whispered in my ear, now that you've wined and dined me, are you going to sixty-nine me? I said you bet, later. My ego was turbo-boosted entering the club with this stunning woman. The guys in the club looked at me as if to say you lucky bastard and the Nairobi night girls looked at my date as if to say who let Cinderella out. I was thinking, wait till you see my boyfriend. Lavish that night was wearing vintage black Yamamoto lace, I told her if we get together with you I'll have to take out a mortgage just to buy your panties. Which is a big joke because Lavish has done very well for herself. She was so feminine like a china doll perfumed so irresistibly, seductive in waves of Vera Wang Princess. Even now sitting here all alone in the lounge watching KISS TV - Kenya's Greatest Entertainer 'talent' show where some hapless but sweet girl is murdering Britney Spears' I Was Born To Make You Happy, I can never forget that scent.
  
  So to cut a long story short, I'm in a dilemma. Big time. I haven't seen George for the last four days although he's keeping in touch by phone. He told me he's taken our car to Naivasha with friends. Advice please!Tamaku

  
  

• My Valentine's Day & Night

  Posted: February 17, 2011, 6:19 pm by Tamaku

  It’s been a while people, where do I start? Ok, let's go to the beginning which is always a good place to start. So I left London on Friday morning feeling physically refreshed but there were still some cobwebs in my head. Did I tell you about someone called Lavish? Of course I did and many of you weren't too pleased. Anyway, newsflash: she was more than a passing cloud! I'd been thinking a lot about her that's why we agreed with George that we take some time apart. Let me tell you nowhere like 39000 feet up in the privacy of a Club World pod to collect one's thoughts. But by the time BA 0065 landed in Nairobi I was still not clear in my mind what I wanted to do or who I wanted to be with.
  
  George picked me up from the airport; I'd missed him so much. This man has a heart of gold. We hugged tight for half a minute until I felt something move down there, hahaha. Then he drove us home. I could tell he was so excited to see me, telling me about what's been happening. In my absence Imelda's son came to live with us now he's going to school. I won't write much about him because he's only a child.
  
  That night after a quick shower and a light snack we went to bed. When we were lying there George said, so what have you decided? Is it me or is it going to be that woman Lavish? I said honey I can't just choose like that because I love you and I have these feelings for Lavish as well. He said people don't know how complex you are, I just want you to be happy so you need to make up your mind. And that's how the first night back went, cuddling each other in bed and talking for hours. But no sex, none of us even felt like it. We talked about how we met and how happy we've been together and also intimate stuff that I won't tell you because it's deep and only two people ever heard those whispers.
  
  Come Sunday afternoon we were sitting in the lounge watching TV and my mobile vibrated. It flashed up 'LAVISH' and George saw it but he pretended like he had not seen it. I walked to the kitchen to answer the call. I felt something in my stomach from hearing that voice. Lavish asked, man have you missed me? I didn't make a sound. She said I know you missed me even if you don't say it because I'm a woman and we know these things. I found my voice and I said I missed you. Then she said I'm in town at the hotel, I want you to come to me now. I said let me think about it, I'll let you know. Then she said don't think because I'm waiting. Come now I’m waiting for you. Strangely, as she said those words I realized I was pinching my right nipple which was now quite stiff.
  
  After the call ended I went back to Gee, he looked up and said I know you have to go but it's okay. He looked hurt and sad. I said honey I'm very sorry because I’m becoming a bad person. Then I went upstairs to our room. I packed my small wheelie Samsonite, I packed some underwear and socks and toiletries. I also put in a black Van Heusen dinner shirt and trousers and my autograph black pointy shoes. I knew I was spending Valentine's dinner away from George. I was going away to be with Lavish....
  
  
  To be continued:Tamaku

  
  

• How to get laid in 7 days (Compressed)

  Posted: February 7, 2011, 1:48 am by Tamaku

  Continued from here:
  
  I’ve bowed to pressure and decided to release the whole course tonight due to people’s different schedules and the need to prep.
  
  Suckrifices (sorry)
  
  So you’re in the zone now. You’ll have to suspend booze and fags for the next 6 days because nothing like too much alcohol and nicotine to dampen libido and also stale beer breath is not a turn on. Eaten your three stalks of celery this morning? Good. Now you need to call your date and tell him/her that you’ve got major plans for next Monday. Try not to sound as if your life depends on it. Pick up the phone and calmly repeat after me: ‘Hi xxxx I know you want to spend Valentine’s night with me getting pleasured - I’ll pick you up at 8pm.' Never ‘Can I?’ but ‘I know‘. That way you'll have the upper hand in the game of love.
  
  Here’s some Joe to get you psyched up
  
  
  
  Grooming, etc
  
  Day 3 of seduction training. Today is the day to get the killer hair cut. CK and ilk, ensure dye is the fashionable shade or get the secretary to pick up toupee from taxidermist. Don’t forget to shave the back. Order flowers and chocs.. Whatever you do, make sure they are getting delivered to Target’s office on d-day morning. You’ll score some serious brownies enough to get the panties/boxers peeling off effortlessly, trust me….on that note, enjoy some Prince AJ and Co but however weak you feel DO NOT COMPLETE. I know the girls look very hot.
  
  
  
  
  Lube - check, rubbers - check…
  
  Day 4. Bought the lube, massage oil and condoms? No harm in trying on ONE condom to make sure the fit is right…oooohhh, nowadays they even make some of them with silky lubrication INSIDE. Mmmmmm, throw away that one in the bin. Naughty, naughty, naughty boy you‘re going to have to do better than that. Anyway just three short days to go.
  
  
  Believe in yourself & Oral Hygiene
  
  Day 5. Please tell me you haven’t called Target again?! Nothing as off putting as coming across as too desperate, you must keep them keen and gagging for it. Today should start with the mantra, ‘I will get laid on Monday night, because Tamaku said so’, followed by a stretch and coffee enema. Do not try the latter at home though. It’s not just a question of getting the kettle on and some instant, lol! Also check there are no lesions on the tongue, if there are get down to Nakumatt quick and be od-ing on the Listerine or Corsodyl. Aaahhh. Good, I can ever see your molars. Now give the nips a tweak, you don’t want to be toooo desensitized. How about some Secret Garden.
  
  
  
  
  Almost there....
  
  Day 6. Absolutely no porn today, have an ice bath to cool that boner that threatens to take off like a rocket , lol…(will I ever be forgiven, lol). It’s too late to get checked out for herpes so banish the thought. Early to bed, early to rise. Nite, nite with KCI - Jojo All my life - sweeter than you. Yeah, tomorrow.
  
  
  
  Completion, payback and da end (in Swahili known as kazi iendelee)
  
  D-day: You haven’t done much work today. Dinner will be fantastic. It should because you’ll be poorer in a few hours. Later at your pad, phones switched off and a bottle of red while playing Secret Garden (again), lights dimmed. Don’t be shy - lean forward and get that tongue action going. Is that a mammary gland that’s not a relative’s which just popped inside your mouth? Have a gentle nibble then put your hand down there? Is it raining now? Lol. I told you this would be the night. Now who better than R Kelly to take you there….
  
  Tamaku

  
  

• How to get laid in 7 days (money-back guarantee)

  Posted: February 7, 2011, 4:25 am by Tamaku

  This post is in response to the 'straight' dude who emailed me asking about tips on getting laid come Valentine’s. So I’ve risen to the occasion to assist in accomplishing the mission without telling him to resort to Rohypnol. Being irresistible is 90% of the time just a matter of confidence and planning, so let’s start this seven-day musical course to get things moving. Of course you’ll still need the usual money wasting accoutrements(flowers, chocolates, dinner and booze). Don’t forget the nice smelling underwear on the night and a pack of 3 ribbed durex - applies to everyone, BTW. Let’s start off with All Saints to get you in the zone. There’ll be a tune every night until Sunday. Follow this course and believe me, Monday night kaboom!
  
  You’re welcome. xxx
  
  Tamaku

  
  

www.uglykenyans.blogspot.com

• Kenyan Flag

  Posted: February 6, 2011, 8:45 am by Tamaku

  
  
  Dr Sally Kosgei, Agriculture Minister said: “This flag has got no meaning, it only helps me to evade the traffic jam”....

Diary of a gay Kenyan

• Decision Decisions Decisions - Help!

  Posted: February 6, 2011, 3:40 am by Tamaku

  It’s nearing that time of year again when you MUST receive a card and at least a dozen blood-red roses or everyone in the office will conclude (rightly) that you’ve come to enjoy flying solo aka masturbation a little too much. Last year for Valentine’s, George treated me to an unforgettable night at a local restaurant. It cost him an arm and a leg, aaawww. Later we had some mind-blowing sex, nothing like it after a gourmet meal and a good Chablis. Oh, and he got me a prezzie as well. I figured this year I should do the treating.
  
  At the moment I’m trying to decide which restaurant to book from here in the UK before I arrive in Nairobi later in the week because if I leave it till the weekend I’m not sure they’ll be any nice places left to go. If anyone has any suggestions please let me know either here or by email, it‘ll be much appreciated. I’m especially keen to hear from anyone who has tried Ole-Sereni or Rolf’s Place or even that new hotel in Westlands - Sankara. Restaurants I wouldn’t be seen dead in are the Carnivore (over-rated and so 90’s), Moonflower (bland food with eye-watering bills) and Trattoria (shouldn’t this place be taken off life-support?). I don’t mind, ahem, a complimentary from those establishments though, just to check out whether things have improved, hehehe. God, I’m so corrupt! This time I’m feeling braver unlike last year so we’ll definitely be out on the night with all the other lovebirds. Nothing in the law that says two men can’t enjoy a candlelit dinner on Valentine's. So, just looking for somewhere special with nice food and great ambiance that will guarantee me at least a week of sex afterwards.
  
  George honey - if you read this post please try and act surprised when I take you out to dinner, ok sweetie?Tamaku

  
  

• My fellow Kenyans, this is why sometimes I feel suicidal

  Posted: February 4, 2011, 6:03 am by Tamaku

  Prof Anyang Nyong’o is a Kenyan Cabinet Minister responsible for Medical Services. The Vision and Mission at the Ministry are ‘To be an efficient and cost-effective medical care system for a healthy Nation’ and ‘To promote and to participate in the provision of integrated and high quality curative and rehabilitative services to all Kenyans.’ Many Kenyans will tell you that those words are just a mirage of hot air rising from the arse crack of a civil servant. Hence the irony of Prof Nyong’o’s personal situation in an interview where he speaks candidly about his fight with prostate cancer in a world-class US treatment facility.
  
  I wish the Minister well because I’m not heartless and I like to think that there’s some compassion still left in me. However I can’t help screaming: What hope is there for suffering Kenyans who can’t afford to pay for a costly evacuation abroad should they require specialist Medical Services?
  
  Oh silly me! What kind of emotional question is that? I forgot that God helps those who help themselves.Tamaku

  
  

• Kenya Minister jokes about HIV/Aids while people are dying

  Posted: January 30, 2011, 5:50 am by Tamaku

  Esther Murugi, Special Programmes Minister, finds much hilarity and merriment when discussing what should be done to combat the scourge. Please don’t get her started about men who have sex with men and HIV. That will be a ROFLHOLCBF - rolling on the floor laughing hysterically out loud collecting bird feathers - moment. She's one of the more progressive albeit confused Kenyan politicians. Sample this from just three months ago.
  
  Oh dear me, seems like she is the one who should be put in quarantine for foot in mouth.
  
  Tamaku

  
  

• Free at last

  Posted: January 27, 2011, 3:24 pm by Tamaku

  I mark the passing of David Kato, Ugandan activist and human rights campaigner who succumbed to head injuries sustained from a brutal attack at his home yesterday. My condolences to his family, friends and the community at large.
  
  RIPTamaku

  
  

• The woman magistrate who let a sex offender off the hook

  Posted: January 27, 2011, 2:24 am by Tamaku

  Sylvia R Wewa. Remember that name because you might need to ask for her if you are ever on the wrong side of the law. She is Senior Resident Magistrate at Kaloleni Court who finds herself in hot water for disregarding pre-sentencing reports in the case of serial sex offender Kennedy Munga. The probation reports warned that the accused had not shown remorse nor accepted responsibility for the heinous crime of defilement. Instead of imposing a sentence guided by the law’s minimum of 15 years, Sylvia Wewa decided that a three-year probation was sufficiently severe. WTF. Disgust and revulsion don‘t begin to describe how I feel about this magistrate.
  
  Luckily when the case came up for review before High Court Judge Mohammed Ibrahim he felt the same way and did the right thing. 15 years jail for the accused. YES!!!
  
  Do you have any suggestions what suitable punishment should be meted on this Magistrate Sylvia Wewa?Tamaku

  
  

• A woman of rare talents

  Posted: January 23, 2011, 11:13 pm by Tamaku

  Meet Nigerian songstress Eve lookalike Majela also known as Queen of Vagina. I watched a clip of her on a late night tv show about a week ago and I’m finding it hard getting the catchy tunes off my mind. Not that I want to though. Watch her performance on the video bar here further down on the right or go to youtube and search for Queen of Vagina. You’ll see and hear what I mean. I haven’t laughed so much in a long time. All together now vaja, vaja, vaja, vajaina! Queen of vajaina oooo. Woooiii. This is a perfect song to sing in the car when you’re sitting in traffic. Go on, watch the videos, you’ll thank me for pointing them out. Just don’t watch this at work if your boss is an asshole. Total insanity.Tamaku

  
  

• Whoa Nellie! Not all Africans are needy

  Posted: January 23, 2011, 9:19 pm by Tamaku

  Last week I went out on the town in Newcastle on my own because my hosts were away at a prearranged engagement. It was really windy and cold so I stepped out in a thick jacket, scarf, gloves and faux fur ushanka all wrapped up like a mummy. First stop was Chinatown to line my stomach as you do before any drinking. I got lured by the promise of eat as much as you can for £8 which was good value and most of it was rather yummy. It’s no secret that Chinese domination of the world has been accelerated by buffets of egg fried rice, chow mein and shredded roast duck. And soy sauce.
  
  After the feast I walked towards the Life Centre around that triangle which is home to the city’s gay bars and settled for a pub favourite with bears. Forty minutes later I was minding my own business pretending to cruise when three hunks in kilts joined my table by the window overlooking the sidewalk. I was glad for the company of the three hairdressers from Scotland and we started chatting about nothing in particular, they even bought me a couple of drinks. Oh, by the way did I mention that one of them was black? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it a little odd hearing a Glaswegian accent from a black person.
  
  Shortly the two other guys excused themselves to go outside to smoke. That’s when the black Scot asked me where I lived. I said I’m only here visiting friends, I live in Kenya. He says how cool is that, you speak verrie gurdt Inglish. (Lol. Sorry I can’t do the accent). I answered yes I do but just for the record I speak even better Swahili and two other languages. By this time his compatriots were back, that’s when he asked me whether I had a %^*~@&. I replied sorry I didn’t understand what you just said, what was that again? Obviously I need to work on my Scottish. I think he got my point because he started speaking very slowly: DO. YOU. HAVE. A. BOYFRIEND? I said yes I do have a very beautiful boyfriend, and told them a little about Gee. Curiously ebony Scot wanted to know what colorr George was so I said as black as you and me. That’s when he said don’t take this the wrong way fella but 'gay Africans are way too needay when it comes to marney. They can‘t seem to stand on their own two feet'....
  
  I pretended to take his offensive comments the right way even though I was seething inside, even his friends looked embarrassed. I know that in recent years ‘refugee’ and ‘asylum seeker’ (read foreigner) have become dirty words to many Europeans largely thanks to a slew of articles about benefits scroungers in hugely popular rags aimed at swathes of the population whose reading age hovers around 9. So I asked ‘Field-slave-now-eating-at-the-big-house’, is that your experience? Have you ever dated an African? He said no but a friend of a friend has. Then he added all I know is the people there are starving and dying from aids. I couldn’t hold it any longer so I said to him Oh don’t be ridiculous, you don’t see me saying all Glaswegians are drunk illiterate morons who like to stick dirty needles into their arms. But I said it sweetly because I’m from the land of hakuna matata where ‘jaruos’, ‘kales’, ‘wasepere’ etc still have more than a few issues to sort out. I now accept that some form of bigotry exists inside everyone. Call it preference, type whatever. Also I blame charities who think the only way to fill their coffers are media campaigns showing emaciated and unwashed orphans with runny noses. It doesn’t matter that the kids’ dignity is violated by whoring their images, they are just poor god-forsaken souls from distant lands.
  
  I didn’t even begin to say what I was really thinking. There’s a time and place for debates and I wasn’t in the mood to start a fight which I‘d have lost anyway. So we dropped the subject and some jägerbombs instead (my round) until the stripper came on. Then we just drifted apart to darker parts of the bar where one could get off anonymously. Needless to say I was only a spectator to any monkey business. Before I left the pub I went to the toilet where I bumped into black Mr Kilt. By now he looked a bit worse for wear but he still recognised me as I stood next to him at the urinal. Then without the faintest of warnings he lifted his kilt. I wasn’t too shocked because some gay men can get up to sleazier things in toilets, eh you don‘t want to know. Come to think about it, I’m sure some of you want to know hahaha you'll have to go and ask George Michael. Anyway I clocked him and appreciated that like a true Scotsman he wasn’t wearing anything under the tartan. Luckily for him there was no one else in the toilets because let me just say that it’s not all true what they say about black men. Even in the dimmed lighting I could see that he was packing mini, or how shall I put it, well below expectations in both length and girth and I’m no size queen. Worse still said appendage was as dead as a doornail.
  
  After I finished peeing I gave mine the customary two tugs and three shakes (always a pleasure) and washed my hands quietly staring at kilted flasher’s reflection in the mirror. Before leaving him alone in the toilets, I said bitchily whilst looking at his needledick, so sorry dear - even Africans aren’t that needy.Tamaku

  
  

• Who do you think you are? Chuck Norris?

  Posted: January 15, 2011, 11:03 pm by Tamaku

  Disturbing video of a Kenyan driver and traffic policeman as they engage in fisticuffs. No winners here, all losers!
  
  Tamaku

  
  

• Getting to know Tamaku

  Posted: January 14, 2011, 9:57 pm by Tamaku

  Ok, I’ve been blogging about my life now for close to two years but I still get emails asking me so many crazy questions. From - "how much money do you want me to send you" (enough is never enough, baby) to - "Hi Tamaku, I’m a really lovely girl if you have sex with me you’ll dump that George of yours so fast" (er...I don’t think so sweetie because sex is not all I have with George). So I thought I’d put a survey together and answer some questions hopefully people will get to know me a little bit better.
  
  How often do you have sex?
  
  With myself about four times a week but it’s not getting out of hand. Mostly due to just boredom and as a stress reliever. With boyfriend George less frequently. He says he wants to keep it special, blah, blah, blah. Sorry Gee, just kidding.
  
  What’s your favourite condom flavour?
  
  I don’t know, lol. I’ll have to ask my cock when I get home.
  
  What’s the most sensual part of your body?
  
  My brain when it's stimulated.
  
  What’s your favourite car?
  
  It has to be Land Rover Discovery. My dream car would be Porsche Panamera, the one pulling 500 horses. In ivory. I see stars and get hot flushes just imagining myself driving one. The best things in life ARE NOT FREE.
  
  Are you a top or a bottom?
  
  This question is intrusive and so unfair, fake survey! I don’t see you asking a girl whether she swallows or if she uses a strapon. Anyway I'll answer in the spirit of transparency. The usual position is top to bottom though I also do sideways. I hope that's cleared that little mystery then.
  
  Have you ever been offered and accepted money/food/booze/ice-cream/drugs/shelter/socks for sex?
  
  Yes, haven’t we all! It’s impossible to have sex 100% on your terms every time without sneaking some good old Rohypnol in their drinks. So sex is all about give and take. It’s also nice to be appreciated for a job well done, lol!
  
  You come across as a very happy person. What makes you angry?
  
  I am a happy, easy-going man. The sight of smiling Attorney-General 'Chubby Cheeks' Amos Wako makes my blood boil. I actually loathe the man. Where is the justice in this world? Also people who treat their staff like dirt get me very mad. Case in point that woman from Booksfirst.
  
  When it comes to relationships would you say you are a player or do you get played?
  
  I hate mind-games so I always put my cards on the table. I expect others to come clean as well, has worked for me so far.
  
  Which celebrity would you like to have sex with?
  
  Nick Cannon aka Mr Mariah Carey
  
  Why?
  
  He has a lovely smile and nice teeth which means he’s likely to be a good kisser - big, big plus with me. My fantasy would be to rub baby oil on him then blindfold and handcuff him to the bed and tease him with a feather see if he'll even remember her name. Mariah Who? Also something tells me that for Mariah to be with him, all her fame and fortune, he must be packing more than your bog standard in-the-back-garden cannon. She’s just sapping that baby juice out of him. What a waste!!!
  
  Final word?
  
  Accept the person you are before expecting others to accept you for who you are.
  
  
  End of interview.Tamaku

  
  

• I’m tired of these men. Martha Karua for President 2012

  Posted: January 12, 2011, 7:57 pm by Tamaku

  Hi diary. It’s me, Tamaku. What have I been up to? Well, not much but I’m still here in England. George travelled back to Nairobi over the weekend because he said something about ‘work’, a function that is but a distant memory to me as I’m just a lady of leisure, lol! However lunch today was cod and chips, lovely and I need all the calories to keep me warm because I’ve got at least another couple of weeks in this country. Actually later this evening I’m travelling by train up north (Newcastle upon Tyne) to visit friends and freeze my balls off.
  
  Anyway, so yesterday was the day when the Who’s Who of Kenyan society adorned clean underwear, black suits and dusted off mothballed hats to bid first-class farewell to the recently deceased Gerishon Kirima. If you were not at Kirima’s ’do’ then the sad reality that you must face up to is that you are nobody. I paid my respects on my last post. Pity that some of these so-called leaders forgot their brains at home. On second thought perhaps we should be thankful they did. This being a Kenyan funeral what better place for mirth and to score political mileage. Eh, the stupefaction of it all! Get in! I’ve been waiting to deploy that word for the longest time, lol! The ruckus was tooted off by ex-prezzo Moi, he of the Nyayo, ahem, ‘philosophy’ whom I’ve previously written fondly about here and here. And here. The man is not only guilty of much evil but now he’s also about to give me an ulcer and a repetitive strain injury. When he stood up to bore the mourners to death (sorry!) he was again like a broken record whining that the new Constitution which Kenyans voted for last year allows gay unions. Anthropologists will one day need to get this old man’s brain checked when he kicks it (hopefully not too long to wait) because it may provide the missing link between apes and humans. More stupefying (check, check) is how he managed to stay president for 24 whole years!???
  
  Moi’s comments on gays and the Constitution were like a red rag to Prime Minister Raila who recently also etched himself in my bad books. Basically Raila - claws out - bays at Moi that no, the new laws don’t permit same-sex marriage. He chastises, go read it again to understand. Personally I think that was just so bitchy, have you seen the state of Moi’s cataracts lately? Raila doesn’t stop there though. Because he aspires to be a comedian after his political career ends he adds, ‘we have more women than men, why would any man want to hook up with another man?’ Crowd at funeral roll on the floor pissing themselves with laughter. Wow, Mr Prime Minister of Kenya, Honourable MP for Langata , African Union Mediator to Ivory Coast, cussin (sic) to Barack Obama, blah, blah, blah, how profound your reasoning. Someone (wifey Ida, please?) needs to tell Raila to just shut up and dip his fries in that drivel because he’s being a very naughty boy haemorrhaging supporters every time he opens his mouth on this gay issue.
  
  Or maybe not. Let’s get to know Raila Amolo Odinga even more intimately. Not in that sense, the man abhors gays, hehehehe. We already know how he rewards loyalty, how he will kick a man in the nuts when he’s down on his luck. We now know where he stands when it comes to human rights. On the other hand you can’t fault elitist President Kibaki who doesn’t seem to have much time for a spot of gay-bashing. Perhaps he’s got too much on his mind like how to golf-club nagging First Lady Lucy to death while she’s asleep. Or dreaming of sucking a straw for White Cap lager at Michuki‘s pad watching some Beyonce on the ceiling cinema. Either way, roll on 2012 or whenever the elections will be, my vote will be Martha Karua for President. Hardly surprising as I was even subconsciously thinking about it back then. By the way dad, I told you Politics, English and History instead of Law would one day serve me well, see just how far I’ve come.
  
  
  Tamaku

  
  

• “I told you I was sick!” (RIP Kirima)

  Posted: January 9, 2011, 10:15 pm by Tamaku

  With the passing on of city tycoon Gerishon Kirima in South Africa where he had been taken for medical attention the public saga promised could see more twists and turns than the battle for the late Walter Kilele’s estate which took place years ago (google it). The opposing parties in the Kirima case will no doubt be locked in an epic scavenge over a billion-shilling empire. Someone’s been peddling lies about the assets being worth just 750 million, I smell an elaborate attempt to undervalue. Has Mr KRA been getting what’s due to him? Just a fleeting thought. Anyway some of the old man’s kids went to great lengths to gain exclusive access to their ailing dad, even isolating him away from other family members including the patriarch’s wife aka ‘evil, wicked’ step-mum Teresia Wairimu. Of course - silly me - it was never about the money so I’d expect the offspring to disappear back to their lives once the tears dry up and the funeral is over.
  
  I think it was Katherine Whitehorn who noted The easiest way for your children to learn about money is for you not to have any. I agree. She also wrote why do born-again people so often make you wish they'd never been born the first time? Uh-huh. I’m sure I’m not the only one who noted the clipped upper crust accents of the Kirima brood when speaking to the media. Some of them appear to have had more than their fair share of crusty pies judging by the ample bosoms and over padded derrieres. Seeing and hearing is believing. I’ve always understood it to be a parent’s duty to raise kids with the skills to go and live their own independent adult lives. Obviously daddy Kirima provided too well, the only problem is that he also took too long to die. Call me cynical but I think this appears to have caused some of the clan considerable angst wondering how long before they would get their paws on all that money. I’ve coined a term for it, it’s called Delayed Inheritance Syndrome or DIS. Most commonly afflicted with DIS are lazy, overweight and petulant middle-aged brats whose wealthy parents are past 70.
  
  Example of use
  
  Giddy: I’m so stressed out because I desperately need money to buy new ponies for my polo team. God, why is daddy taking so long to die?!! Now the doctor says I’ve got DIS!
  
  Jon: Aaaah, Delayed Inheritance Syndrome. Bro - tell me about it…Tamaku

  
  

• Cos-Gay is no excuse, let’s make Kenya no country for ‘old men’

  Posted: January 4, 2011, 3:21 am by Tamaku

  I’m sitting here in the toasty loft that is my brother’s study checking email and making sure I don’t miss out on any shenanigans back home. First of all I will gulp a cold Becks to GUG and Co for a well executed and successful legal challenge against that rolling rock - the one that buried itself forever deep inside the abyss of journalistic ineptitude when it chose to publish names and pictures of Ugandans it alleged were gay (relax, you won’t find a link here). Currently the sexy goddess of ethics & justice aka EJ appears to have her juicy butt spread tantalizingly over East African shores. How do I know? Well, I just heard her queefing good over the internet sheets, ok?
  
  The other story that has got me all excited is that one of Ocampo’s Bitches - Industrialization Minister one ‘Heno Cosgay’ he of the dentistry challenged mandible may soon find himself getting in-arse-trialized at some remand facility aka Vaseline Chalets while awaiting his day in court on corruption charges. Unless his only friend Agwambo gets back from the rumble in Ivo with Gbagbo quick. Did you see and appreciate what I just did there, lol. I'm not thinking 'why don't you just pack your bags and go'. Forgive me for getting ahead of myself, but I don’t think I’ll be losing any sleep over this turn of events. My dear fellow Kenyans, I feel nothing! Henry Kosgey is the quintessential smeared-in-black-cotton-soil Kenyan politician. He has form which is well past it’s cull by date. Who in their right mind would even think this pig is suited to hold public office? Aaarrggh.
  
  Please don’t even get me started on the festering Mudavadi-rot - Musalia, not Moses who‘s been dead a canny while. RIP Sir, but still naughty, naughty for playing with Moi. I also haven’t forgotten the Sam Ongeri ‘brouhaha’. Yikes, how far does this whiff go?!Tamaku

  
  

• Happy 2011 and beyond ,YOU got me thinking

  Posted: January 1, 2011, 3:21 am by Tamaku

  We're waiting for a taxi to transport us to dinner then George and I have been promised a night to remember on the South Bank bars of London. Before I get more plastered than I already am, I just wanted to wish you all a most spectacular night wherever you are ushering in 2011. May you all live long and prosper. xxxx
  
  PS: For Lavish only: honey, next year lets do it like this in Kilifi, I miss you too - it's a deal.
  
  Tamaku

  
  

• Thank you Santa but this is what I really wanted for Christmas

  Posted: December 29, 2010, 1:52 am by Tamaku

  Hello diary. Christmas here in Surrey was lovely. And extremely cold too. We spent the day with my brother Timmy, his wife Claudia and my two nephews who also brought girlfriends along. I won’t forget to mention the adorable two border collie dogs Stupid and Sharp. The issue of George has long been ironed out since our first visit here together. To be fair Timmy is one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet - amiable and funny especially when he’s had a drink, my gayness was never going to come between us. He’s also very intelligent and with an acute sense of ethics which is why I wonder what he’s still doing in the pharmaceutical industry.
  
  Everyone got on like a house on fire but somehow George and I still struggled in the freezing temps. The house is heated to 25 degrees C and there’s even under-floor heating downstairs. To cap it all Claudia had an electric blanket rolled out on our double bed. During the long weekend we stayed mostly indoors and only went out twice during the day to the nearby park to walk the dogs. I got a Shoei helmet from Timmy and Claudia while George gave me a leather-riding jacket. They must have been communicating secretly during the year after I said to George I want to start riding bikes again. We gave my relatives wooden African wall masks for their conservatory and I forked out a small fortune in cash for my nephews who are both heading for a skiing holiday tomorrow. To George I gifted a t-bar necklace in white gold. He says he loves it almost as much as he loves me.
  
  Boxing Day afternoon I called Imelda who was away spending the holiday with her mum and her son. She was having a brilliant time frolicking in sunny Nairobi. I said you know what I’d really want right now, I wish you’d have knitted me a cock warmer because England is so cold. She laughed and said eh Tam, I’ve knitted many weird things before but that would be a first! Anyway Imelda being Imelda said, I’ll start knitting one for you right now which you can use during the wintry days here in July but you need to tell me what size your cock is. So I said take a guess but remember you’re due a salary increase soon. So she generously said, ‘Let me make it seven inches then you’ll be all warm and snug.'
  
  I answered dryly, ‘Yes, Imelda at least seven inches flaccid. That’ll do!.' Lol!
  
  Tamaku

  
  

• We are off

  Posted: December 23, 2010, 2:31 am by Tamaku

  George and I are finally off on our holiday to the UK. We are quaffing champagne very nicely on Club World while waiting for the rest of the flight to get boarded. Loving it. Happy holidays all, be safe xxx xxTamaku

  
  

• Conspiracy theories and mango eating

  Posted: December 21, 2010, 6:10 pm by Tamaku

  Hey, we are still in Nairobi owing to the travel disruptions at
  Heathrow Airport. Luckily we've just been told that we should be away
  in the next couple of days. George and I are not complaining – it's so
  hot in Nairobi you could fry an egg on my shiny forehead right now.

  It's such a sad day for Nairobi after that deadly blast which cost
  lives and horrific injuries, my commiserations. Meanwhile I overhead
  someone at the sports club last night when the story broke out, saying
  it could be the work of anti-Ocampo forces out to 'discourage' the
  tenacious Argentine and his human rights' coterie from coming this way
  anytime soon. I'm not in the slightest convinced but then again
  stranger things have happened in these parts..

  Anyway, we've just come back (my bf and I) from a walk to a nearby
  kijiji (village) where we stopped for two deliciously juicy mangoes.
  Each was as huge as a baby's head and only for 25 shillings. Aaaah,
  these days in the sun are pure magic.Tamaku

  
  

• This chocolate starfish should be Ocampo's number 7 - Nominations for Kenya Analists Awards 2010

  Posted: December 19, 2010, 6:47 pm by Tamaku

  I read the news of one Ms Mugambi's ordeal at the hands of her former employer Booksfirst and the actions of general-manager Ann Randiki with much shock and equal consternation. Read about it here and let me know what you think. Thank God for the wisdom and mercy of a judge who found for the plaintiff. Lately the wheels of justice around here appear to be moving in the right direction. That - in this day and age - anyone in authority can treat an employee in such a crass, unreasonable and dictatorial manner while expecting to get away with it is just beyond me.
  
  Booksfirst urgently needs to clarify the company policy with reference to these nauseating events. They can then proceed to sack the general manager and offer Ms Mugambi that job if at all she wants it. Btw, the Nuremberg Defense is as lame as Mugabe's libido even if his balls were to get tickled from behind all night by one of his sycophants. Uh-huh....which reminds me can someone please tell Mugabe to lose the Hitler-moustache, people might start to think he's a power-crazed despot.
  
  The reported conduct of Ms Randiki can only be summarized as spiteful, malicious, cruel and repugnant. It has done some damage to the Booksfirst brand. Both make the fabulous Meryl Streep in the Devil Wears Prada, which we watched on Friday night TV, appear as meek as Mother Teresa. Therefore I would like to award Ms Randiki and Booksfirst joint Assholes of the Year. Dirty, dirty, vile and evil.Tamaku

  
  

• Travel blues

  Posted: December 18, 2010, 11:55 pm by Tamaku

  We've just been to the airport only to discover that BA have cancelled tonight's flight from NBO due to adverse weather at LHR.

  Nothing much one can do about it if the good pilot doesn't feel like skating a 777 Boeing full of passengers across an icy runway. We managed to get rebooked out tomorrow night but that's also subject to overnight conditions at Heathrow. BTW, BA Nairobi staff could teach KQ check-in crew a thing or two about service with a smile. Aaaargh, the snow fairy is eating into our precious vacation time!! Right now we are ensconced in Maina's cab leaving the airport for home. I guess it's not all bad, another night for George and I in our own bed can only be a good thing. I hope Imelda hasn't got the house full of a raging bash thinking we are already away, lol!Tamaku

  
  

• Oh no, the party season is upon us again!

  Posted: December 16, 2010, 9:34 pm by Tamaku

  Today has been a crazy day with last minute shopping for the wonderful friends and family we plan to see on our trip to the UK. One thing that should never be missed from these goodie bags is Kenyan tea and coffee and good old Royco mchuzi mix. My brother Timmy always asks me not to forget the washing up paste Axion - the grease stripper - he says it does a fantastic job at cleaning the rims to his tyres.

  After shopping George and I stopped for a quick grab to eat at Java Mama Ngina street. We each had toasted beef and cheddar sandwiches with homemade fries and a woeful garden salad (see pics). That's what's wrong with this country, wherever I look I just can't seem to get a decent salad.

  Anyway now we are just resting before hitting the town for some drinks. First stop Mercury Lounge (it's been a while) then finish off at Black Diamond. The season to make merry is well and truly here.Tamaku

  
  

• Kenyans accused of 'coordinated crimes against humanity' - displacements, rapes and killings

  Posted: December 15, 2010, 5:48 pm by Tamaku

  - Francis Muthaura, Head of the Civil Service

  - Uhuru Kenyatta, MP and Minister

  - William Ruto MP

  - Hussein Ali, former Police Commissioner

  - Henry Kosgey, MP and Minister

  - Joshua Arap Sang, Journalist

  These are the individuals said to bear the greatest responsibility.Tamaku

  
  

• Countdown

  Posted: December 15, 2010, 2:39 pm by Tamaku

  Good morning. Nairobi is cool, hardly above 21 degrees. George and I just finished collecting our new passports from Nyayo House. We are off to wintry UK in the next couple of days for Christmas and New Year. The entire process took just two weeks which was very efficient of the Immigration Ministry. I was pleasantly surprised to also learn that they are open weekdays from 7am to 8pm, great stuff and not a sneeze of a bribe. Kenya really is changing.

  I just took this pic of I&M Bank building on Kenyatta Avenue walking to our car. People we are passing on the street don't seem too anxious about Mr Ocampo's impending announcement but George has already pointed out to me scores of alert plainclothes policemen.Tamaku

  
  

• Ten to midnight - the hour cometh (Yes, that's my final answer)

  Posted: December 14, 2010, 11:46 pm by Tamaku

  Nairobi, 14th December 2010. Night sky full of clouds looks like it'll be a wet night. DJ/housekeeper Imelda is getting our dinner ready while playing Yvonne Chaka Chaka's I'm Burning Up (are you ready). Before that we listened to Everyday the Same by Nine Inch Nails. My dear mummy came over earlier for lunch unannounced but that was still fab. I know I'm the favourite because she once whispered to me 'it's a parent's duty to always protect the weakest child'. That's her perception of me that I've since exploited most of my life, thank you very much.

  At 1400 hrs tomorrow ICC Prosecutor Luis Moreno-Ocampo is set to name the six prominent Kenyans he wants tried for perpetrating, financing and masterminding Kenya's horrific post-election violence. William Ruto MP came back from a recce to Den Haag recently leaving political commentators confounded as to what he hoped to achieve. I liken it to the exploratory call you make to a buddy the day after a serious drinking session when you can't remember what you did. Anyway what's certain is that it was an opportunity to eat pancakes and buy cheese and clogs for his family. Once again absent-minded Kenyan journalists missed an opportunity at the return press conference to ask him if he's ever been to a gay bar. Christiane Amanpour would never have let that pass. Without a doubt this rockstar of Kenyan politics now besieged by the prospect of so much litigation, well, statistics say one of those charges may stick.

  To those who care for my personal opinion can I just say that I have come to detest Mr Ruto's ways of introducing dangerous dimensions outside the rules of the game whenever he feels isolated. It's just not cricket. Please Father, Forgive Them - the crowd that went to the airport to give him a 'hero's' welcome - for they know not what they can't do. Lately Mr Ruto has taken on the look of a very scared pussy at the hands of merciless blood-sucking lawyers. Some analysts say he is also emerging as a weak chess player who has been wrongly advised to go for over-exposure. It's so easy to tell the politicians who got the least cuddles as kids because they just can't get enough of the limelight.

  I'm reminded about the story of a sheep and a chicken who both lived on a farm. One day they heard the farmer's wife planning a big dinner party with friends. Chicken spent the evening mocking sheep saying that mutton infused with rosemary (the herb not the she, lol) would have to be the main course because it was a large gathering. However the next day the party was cancelled but the farmer's wife still decided to give her small family a treat. Yep, you guessed right - she served up coronation chicken for lunch. Moral of the story - warlords, you are the weakest link, now fuck off. I know, it's a little tenuous but I'm sure you still get my drift.

  Sent from my iPhoneTamaku

  
  

• Happy birthday Kenya; 21 again?

  Posted: December 12, 2010, 1:31 am by Tamaku

  We are still celebrating Kenya's Independence Day here at home. It's been a memorable day in the welcome company of lover, friends and family. Husband George roasted us the most succulent goat legs which we've been sending down with copious amounts of Tusker lager chased down with shots of Viceroy brandy. We've been listening to sounds like Summer Love by Denyque, Get No Better by Cassidy ft Mashonda (Swizz Beatz you've got mad skills like Tedd Josiah but you are still The Dog. Alicia Keys, remember karma's a bitch). Also been grinding to Missing You by Case (tune, tune, tune).

  Oh, my friend Paprika from the UK is also here. AND, so is Lavish over from Kilifi looking so fierce I feel like having another small but secret nibble of her ripened fruits. She's sitting directly opposite with her 36DD tits pointing at me like upturned traffic cones. Saucy minx can't really blame me. Mmmm....

  Sent from my iPhoneTamaku

  
  

• Kenyans deserve better from Safaricom

  Posted: December 8, 2010, 4:32 pm by Tamaku

  Over the past few weeks M-Pesa, Safaricom's revolutionary mobile cash transfer platform has been experiencing all manner of hitches to suggest a network on the precipice of total collapse most likely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of transactions (previously said to be 70 + per second). The last major system upgrade of the past couple of weeks has not eased fears.

  Government needs to take note. With millions of subscribers dependent on M-Pesa, the failed transactions and unreliability of the system should be of major concern from a national security point of view as this is a scenario that could even spark nationwide civil unrest.Tamaku

  
  

• Kwaheri Naivasha

  Posted: December 2, 2010, 1:30 pm by Tamaku

  Just ended my meeting. Tie loosened, pleased to be heading back home. Listening to Prince from the album of the same name, the one with the track 'I wanna be your lover' on the 90 kms return journey. Sunny blue skies, light traffic - fanta orange kind of day but racing manic Mololine matatu drivers on the killer road. Purchased some sheepskin rugs at Lari. Next stop home sweet home.Tamaku

  
  

• On a jolly

  Posted: December 2, 2010, 10:27 am by Tamaku

  I've just stopped for breakfast at Silver Hotel's Jolly Cafe Naivasha. It will be a mug of Kericho Gold tea, two slices of buttered toast and two fried eggs (waitress says I can't have one egg, must be two. Lol!).Tamaku

  
  

• Sunrise

  Posted: December 2, 2010, 10:07 am by Tamaku

  Nature comes alive in the Rift Valley just before Kinungi. Check out the fascinating mountain crater to the left of this picture. I'm making excellent progress, I should arrive at my destination with plenty of time to spare.Tamaku

  
  

• Dull-eyed not so bushy tailed

  Posted: December 2, 2010, 8:37 am by Tamaku

  Good morning sleepy heads. Can't believe I'm getting ready to leave the house at this hour. I've got a meeting in Naivasha for 8 am. Foggy head not yet cleared from last night's three double brandys but I'll drop a Redbull with the toast, that should do the trick. It was a struggle to leave George in our warm bed but needs must. Lovely day all xxx

  Sent from my iPhoneTamaku

  
  

• Raila squanders decades of respect, reputation now in tatters as he topples himself from pedestal

  Posted: November 30, 2010, 2:30 pm by Tamaku

  I have been a lifelong admirer of Prime Minister Raila Odinga from his days as a human rights and pro-democracy activist. This is a man who has the scars that bear testament to the brutality and injustices of Moi’s repressive regime when he was ordered detained for years without trial. Raila has been feted home and abroad as a champion of causes that affect the marginalized and the neglected. Only a few weeks ago- I think it was during Mashujaa Day - he spoke convincingly of a New Kenya where citizens’ private lives would be free from the control of the State and we cheered him on because we thought here is a politician with depth.
  
  That’s why the PM’s recent Kamukunji edict that police should arrest gays comes as a huge shock. Raila now risks being unmasked as a shameless circus-performer whose only ambition is to become at best a benevolent tyrant if he ever sees the presidency. He campaigned, as did many gay Kenyans, for a new constitution to enshrine individual rights and liberties but in essence he would rather reform our Police into a Gestapo-style organization snooping around its citizens’ bedrooms.
  
  Therefore can the Prime Minister also issue a statement to clarify just how police are to identify homosexuals before arresting them? Will it now be an offence for two men to be enjoying a quiet drink together if none of them is married? Will police now patrol the estates in vans festooned with ‘Government of Kenya Rectal Exam Unit’? And if one is identified as homosexual will he be sent to the Kenyan colony on Mars since homosexuality is considered ‘unAfrican’ and 'unnatural'? I seriously want to put this whole saga to one side and accept it as just cheap politics and playing to the gallery in the week we heard about drug-trafficking government officials but I still can’t help thinking it is unethical conduct and most unbecoming of the office of Prime Minister.
  
  A big monumental letdown. Why Raila, why did you do it?Tamaku

  
  

• I gotta a feeling

  Posted: November 27, 2010, 9:32 pm by Tamaku

  George and I just got back from visiting my friend Nyiva in Kangundo who's made a remarkable recovery from that bodaboda accident. Doctors are confident she'll be back at work in January which is nothing short of a miracle from when I last saw her. Also friends (Gay Knights of Nairobi - by invitation only) and family of mine clubbed some money together which means her son will also be in class when school reopens. There's some cash left over so they'll both definitely know it's Christmas time. Nyiva wants all of you to know how touched she was by your cyber prayers and kind words. Pat yourselves all on the back for that wonderful result.

  
  Well, about that alleged two-timing incident with Lavish last week for which Kasapere now intimates I'm a rapist and lowlife, George and I are in a good place too. By the way I turned down an all expenses offer by Lavish early this week to go see her in Mombasa. I told her I'm not willing to take this to the next level and jeopardise what's dearest to me so I really hope you understand. Lavish said my heart desires you Tamaku but I'll do my best to back off. Then she added rather ominously, I usually get most things that I want so keep looking over your shoulder. We both laughed nervously at that implied threat, I scratched my testicles in camaraderie and replied eh missy, please don't go all psycho bitch on me now. Then we just left it at that.

  
  After that conversation I called George and promised him that there wouldn't be a next time ever. I also more than made up to Gee for that indiscretion but I'm not going to reveal too much. All I can say is my supplication involved an intimate candlelit dinner somewhere very nice, a half bottle of Skyy vodka, Virgin Sudanese shea butter rubbed somewhere and some mind-blowing sex. Oh, the icing on the cake is the present of Christmas this year in England. I'm not too shy to unleash some spare financial firepower if it keeps us together. This morning after reading Kasapere's hurtful comments George tearfully told me I feel so blessed for this no ordinary love and I want you to know that you'll never be anyone's douchebag. So it's back to happy families.

  
  On the way back from Kangundo (that road is an effing disgrace) I took this picture of men-at-work doing patchwork repairs. All is not lost though, a little bird sat on a lofty perch has just told me that total rehabilitation is penciled to begin early 2011 :)
  
  We are both now slightly tired so we'll have a shagnap then shower and change before heading out to dinner with friends and some grueling (for me) clubbing. It's a small price for the privilege of having a younger man for a lover and best friend. Let no-one be under any illusion - George is the most loving, beautiful and hottest man alive. He is also irreplaceable. Lavish was horny-goat sex. Hope that has cleared it all up.
  
  I've got a feeling that tonight's gonna be a good, good night. Lovely Saturday night all. xxx
  
  Tamaku

  
  

• Neighboursdontmind?

  Posted: November 24, 2010, 8:42 pm by Tamaku

  This is a new phrase that I came up with this afternoon while holding on the line to my bosom buddies at Kenya Revenue Authority (KRA). Basically it’s how to respond when a friend keeps on telling you of all the wonderful noisy sex marathons he's been having but you don't want him to know how wracked with spite you are because you’re not getting any.
  
  Example of use
  
  Tommy: Man, the other morning Don and I only had sex for two hours but he had to untie me midway from the balcony railings of our apartment to check the condom was okay and to add some more lube. Don also smoked a spliff and downed two Redbulls. He then stuck a Viagra up my ass before we continued for another three hours...
  
  Martin (shaking head chlorophylled with envy): WHAAT? Neighboursdontmind?!Tamaku

  
  

• Adults party all day and sleep all night

  Posted: November 21, 2010, 7:52 pm by Tamaku

  Good afternoon chaps and chapesses from blue-sky Nairobi. It's Imelda's day off so I made us a lettuce and tomato salad with bits of crispy bacon dressed in a Vidalia Onion dressing all scooped up in toasted pitta bread. I know the quickest route to my man's heart. Now George and I are just relaxing wearing only shorts in the garden under the cantilevered parasol drinking chilled passion juice mixed with kiwi fruits and a tinge of rum. This amazing country is good enough proof for me that God exists. If you doubt me ask Prince William why he chose Kenya to propose to his future wife. We are also listening and singing to Wayne Marshall's Good Love (the masterpiece riddim produced by Trevor Baby G). It goes like this: say she love my style, di way I profile....say she needs it harder, say she needs it stronger....

  We're both, unsuccessfully I must add, trying out some badboy dancehall steps, lol.

  Life is sweet. Only thing is I never got so much hate mail as I did since I told you all about my night with Lavish. I don't get it because George is cool with it, he understands that humans are complex when it comes to sexuality. People need to get real, come on, I only boned a girl it's not like I'm trying to breed a Martian. And it was consensual with all cards on the table facing up. Now I know not to tell everything that I get up to because what I normally write here is just a tiny slice of my life, hehehe. But even I sometimes think i go too far like the unforgettable night I spent with twin lesbians whom I met at Wikililye in Kitui years ago. That's why I'll always remain undercover. Have a lovely Sunday. xxxTamaku

  
  

• No Means Yes (Chopped and Screwed)

  Posted: November 19, 2010, 4:51 pm by Tamaku

  My life here in beautiful Kenya sometimes feels like a movie. You’ve met the main actors: George (boyfriend), Imelda (housekeeper) and Sheila (best female friend). Weeks ago Lavish made a cameo appearance. Well it looks like she wants to become a regular. This is an account of what happened to me yesterday:
  
  I was in the garden just working on my laptop when I got a call from Lavish. I had spoken to her twice since our first meeting. So she calls me and says hi Tamaku, I’m in town can we please meet. I said what a lovely surprise; of course sweetie just let me know place and time. Lavish said come to the Exchange bar at Sarova Stanley today 4pm-ish. I said sounds super I’ll be there. I felt a strange tingling sensation and sweat down my spine, like excitement mixed with anticipation. Anyway, I finished the report I was writing and then had an extra long shower. I soaped while singing I’ve Never Been To Me by Charlene…Oh, I've been to Georgia and California and anywhere I could run,Took the hand of a preacher man and we made love in the sun, But I ran out of places and friendly faces, Because I had to be free, I've been to paradise but I've never been to me…..
  My intuition was telling me to make an extra effort so I wore my vintage Diesel Jeans, my lucky pink Number 7 polo shirt from Hackett (sometimes I feel like a Brit, hehehe) and brown Hush Puppies from Bata. I over-splashed Tsar cologne on my chin and neck and also some drops on my crotch and I was good to go.
  
  I got the car valet-parked at the Stanley and climbed up the stairs to the bar at a few minutes to 4. I saw Lavish seated at a table by the window looking out to Kenyatta Avenue. I walked up to her and she stood up to give me a hug. She was looking stunning in snow-white denims, I said wow you look spectacular who is it this time. She laughed like a teenage girl and said thanks Tamaku, you always appreciate what I’m wearing, it’s Guy Laroche. I sat down taking in the aura of Flowerbomb which I now know is her scent and the waitress came to our table. She asked what are you having, I said please bring me whatever madam is drinking which turned out to be a delicious Merlot. We talked with Lavish, she told me she was in town to see some people for business including me. I said I’ve been expecting you because I loved your company very much from last time. I was looking inside her brown eyes, she was talking with them code-blinking me you make me feel good and I like you a lot. I thought I must tell her what I’m about so I just told her after the first glass of wine please listen to me . She said what, what and I whispered I’m gay. Lavish was quiet for a minute looking out of the windows through the white sheer curtains then she turned to me and said I knew it was too good to be true. She told me as a successful career woman many men are very intimidated of her. I was thinking what’s wrong with my straight brothers because this is premium grade and she is crying out to be asked on a date.
  
  After the second glass it was now about 5.30 pm so I said please let’s change venue. I was feeling slightly tipsy and my instincts were calling for the chase to begin. We left the Stanley and walked down Kimathi Street and round the corner to Mama Ngina Street. I said let’s go up the Porterhouse bar which is normally full of hoity-toity start-up lawyers. We entered the bar and the room went silent, Lavish has that effect on people and I’m not that bad a catch also, lol. I told Benson the barman, please get us two glasses of Merlot and we carried on drinking. Naughty thoughts started going through my mind sitting next to Lavish brushing thighs and feeling the vibes. After two hours she was licking her lips and telling me man, how about it? I said please let’s go with the flow, don’t rush it.
  
  We left Porterhouse at about 9 and walked towards Hilton holding hands. George called me on my mobile and said where are you, I said I’m with that bird I told you about called Lavish and I’m taking her clubbing to Westlands. He said that’s cool, do what you have to do because I know you like her, I’ll be at home whatever time. Lavish and I got into a cab which dropped us off at Black Diamond. We entered the rooftop terrace and everyone was looking at Lavish because she looks like a supermodel and she made the other Nairobi lovelies look very ordinary. We carried on drinking until midnight. I was feeling peaked and my resolve had long been broken. I said to Lavish, I’m coming back to your hotel with you. She said yes I know you are. Muchiri, the cab guy picked us up and took us back to the Stanley. I was thinking with my dick - please be a good boy today and don’t let this mammy down. We went up the lift and into her exquisite suite. When we got inside she shut the door and then we kissed like virgins although we both know the game very well like La Liga pros.
  
  My hands and lips were on auto-pilot finding rarely ventured routes. Lavish was moaning No, no, please Tamaku. I looked deep in her eyes and said I know baby, No means yes. So we did it, my love-plank didn’t let me down even though it’s been a long time with a woman. Of course I also durexed because that’s my religion and I care. When we got there, Lavish bizarrely said to me please baby tell me you’ll always love me unconditionally. I said honey you are ranked but that was sex and my situation right now is very sticky. So she said I understand but I saw tears in her eyes before we both fell asleep.
  
  This morning I got up at 6, Lavish was still asleep. I put on my clothes quietly like a two-bit whore. I wrote on the pad at the desk ‘thanks; last night was heaven’, and tiptoed out of the room. I got the car back and drove home fast, not thinking of much. Luckily I found George had not left for work. He looked at me and said I know but I still love you. I said sorry baby and he said that’s OK but if it was a guy you’d be history.
  
  So now I’m just here in the garden where yesterday started. Lavish called an hour ago, she said I want you to come see me in Mombasa next week. I said I’ll think about it and let you know. Somehow I feel like things might be getting out of control.Tamaku

  
  

• This is my confession

  Posted: November 7, 2010, 9:17 pm by Tamaku

  Last night I was home alone. George was away visiting parents and Imelda was on leave. After dinner I couldn't stand the utter loneliness. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy my own company very much but sometimes you need to be with people. I didn't want to go out to bars because nothing worse than a lonely drunk. I called George to vent my frustrations and he understood. He said permission granted to seek human companionship for the night but on condition that you both sleep in the guestroom and absolutely no sex. Oh, and it can't be a guy you are dead if I find out. It has to be a girl!
  
  So I got in the car and cruised to a deserted city centre. I saw her on the kerb across Standard Street opposite Trattoria. She was a leggy stunner in a tight halter top and tight short skirt carrying a denim jacket who didn’t look like she’d be a day past 21. It’s amazing how fast a British-made SUV in champagne draws them like flies to shit. She asked me are you looking for action, I said may be, please get in the car we talk. When she jumped in I said my name is Tamaku, she told me hello darling I'm Nicole and it will be 4500 shillings for the night your place or hotel. I said fine and started the drive back home. On the way we listened to some old music like Rick Astley - never gonna give you up and Automatic by Pointer Sisters - every word I intended to speak winds up locked in a circuitry. Nicole told me she was a second year student at the University of Nairobi who was only trying to survive in the big city. I told her I'm not judging because we all have to do stuff at one point or another.
  
  When we got to our estate I could see she was wishing she'd asked for more money. I told her don't worry I don't want to have sex with you, I just need company for the night. I could tell she didn't believe me and some of you guys won't believe me either. Listen up: there's nothing wrong with my truncheon and if there was, which there isn’t, I'd have easily stopped at the late night chemist for some Viagra 100 mg, hahaha. It's performance-enhancing just like cheating but it always does the trick (pun unintended).
  
  I pulled up at our gate and the askari from KK Guards very briefly looked inside the car in shock. He knows I'm gay from how I am with George so he looked at Nicole sitting next to me looking all dolled up like a girl fulani ready for business. We got inside the house and I took her jacket, Nicole said wow what a place you have here, I said thanks and please feel at home. I went to get drinks, Nicole wanted a brandy and I had a chilled Tusker malt lager. Then I turned to look at her.
  
  Let me say that I met many beautiful women in my life so I can safely say that Nicole was an 8.5. Her large soft eyes told me she didn't have much mileage on the clock. She told me she was also a single mum. I told her I'm a fag who lives with a man but he's away for the night. She said no way, I couldn't tell but I won’t let you do me in the butt. I said, ‘no Nicole I told you no sex, not even kinky sex.’
  
  We soon started dancing; I even showed Nicole my dodgy moonwalk to Shalamar's Night to Remember. She laughed at me and said I never met a client as nutty and kind as you. I said right now I'm not a client I'm just a person but I'll give you the money we agreed on. Then we cuddled on the sofa listening to some R Kelly. She felt all soft and vulnerable when we were not talking just listening to slow jams.
  
  Temperatures started rising so I got up and said let's go to the room and please bring your drink with you. Nicole followed me to the downstairs guestroom. I went to run the bath with lots of bubblebath and took off all my clothes. When I was in the bath Nicole appeared at the door and asked can I join you, I answered if you like. She undressed and got in the bath and I just held her in my arms. We stayed for so long we almost fell asleep and the water was getting cold. By the way never have a hot bath alone when you've been drinking - it can be lethal. When we got out I wrapped us both in a large towel and dried her. Nicole looked up my face and asked why are you doing this to me. I said I don't know. I fetched her a spare set of pyjamas, her petite frame was floating in them, lol. I put on some shorts and we sat by the window drinking her brandy.
  
  After about an hour we got in bed. Again Nicole asked don't you find me attractive; I said you are a very beautiful and intelligent woman now go to sleep. When I turned off the lights I spooned Nicole and she started sobbing telling me things that have happened in her short life. I rubbed her chest gently saying I'm so sorry baby, it will be ok. I was thinking evil bastards.
  
  Early this morning I got up and made breakfast for us. We shared a fried duck egg, sausages and Kenylon baked beans. When Nicole went to have a shower I called George and told him everything that I've told you. He said I believe you, now get that girl out of our house I'm on my way back. So I gave Nicole the cash and called her a cab. I declined to give her my number because I said it would just complicate things.
  
  That's my confession.Tamaku

  
  

• Bar Camp?

  Posted: November 5, 2010, 1:08 pm by Tamaku

  Hi. Here is that pic I promised you from my evening at the Exchange Bar on Saturday where I also met Lavish. Check out the presentation of the bar snacks in the cocktail glass. How camp is that? I agree the head on that glass of lager is way too large but that's down to my haste when pouring it from the bottle. I think I'm more proficient at giving it, hehehe!Tamaku

  
  

• Saturday

  Posted: November 3, 2010, 2:35 pm by Tamaku

  I was at the Exchange Bar early Saturday night waiting for my pimp and drug dealer. I also have a forked tongue and tufts of hair on my fingernails, lol! I was actually waiting for none other than my only addiction which is George. Some think it should be Cristiano Ronaldo in his wildfire pink soccer boots but they don't know what I know. I had a couple of Tusker malt lagers and got served complimentary crisps and nuts. I even took a picture that I’ll show you later because my internet connection today is a complete joke. There are few bars in Nairobi that can match the cosy ambiance of the Exchange in the evenings.
  
  While I was waiting for the prince I met a Kenyan goddess - a lady of breathtaking beauty. She really is a living caramel doll. She was also sitting at the bar looking resplendent in signature Penny Winter linens and beaded sandals made from old tires. By the way check out Penny’s 2010 Collection if you want to get the full picture. I took my chance and said hey lady do you come here often, I’m Tamaku, when does your centerfold come out or something lame like that. She tossed back her head of beautiful thick abuja braids laughing. She said I like you already 'My name is Lavish' - you heard right L*A*V*I*S*H. Not Mary or Sue or Charity or Crystal but Lavish. Think of the pornstar that even granny would approve. She told me I'm just waiting for somebody. I answered aren't we all. She handed me a business card which says she heads a company in Mombasa but she was down in Nairobi for meetings etcetera, etcetera. I was captivated by her eloquence, poise, elegance and schmaglitization which is a word I made up just for Lavish because God broke the mould once He'd baked her.
  
  After talking for about an hour Lavish told me she felt like we had a connection, I said that's even without trying - I also feel you. She then gave me her real mobie number. Friends, my dream is to fly over the rainbow so high was also playing in my head as we chatted. The bar pianist was trying to tap something mellow (rather badly, sorry) away in the background. Just as we were getting down to opening up on our secrets, George rang me to say baby come downstairs now, because he didn't want to come up. When I went to pay the bill, Lavish said please allow me so I kissed her on the cheeks - thanks, bye-bye I'll definitely see you soon honey. Just to cap it all that’s when I noticed she was wearing Flowerbomb by Viktor & Rolf. Power. Enchanting. Hot. Very Lavish.
  
  So George and I drove to Westlands, we stopped at the club Black Diamond. Beautiful Nairobians had come out to play, you'd never see them during the day because the sun is too hot for those wisps of a delicate disposition. Rugged expatriate men hovering around sophisticated barely-legal black girls who love chain-smoking Embassy Lights. Or butch black boys strutting all over the place with their white boyfriends watching football on the TV screens while sipping lager from bottles pretending to be straight. It's a surreal hedonist's world fueled by snobbery and money. Lots of cash just swirling in a pot owned by a select few. That's Nairobi's playground for you. However Monaco it most definitely is not because our version is just cheap veneer. Scratch the surface and most posers here are but one paycheck away from financial devastation. I can see through you, hahaha!
  
  We quickly both got bored of the fakery, sadness and pointlessness of it all after an hour or so. Usual drill, one drink at the rooftop terrace of Black Diamond which was kicking then we decamped a notch downmarket next door to Red Tape and finally finished across the road at Rezorus for a sip. Then we both decided to call it a night and go home when Neyo started singing So Sick -Do do do do do do do-do - because we never get sick of love songs. We weren't feeling tired so we cuddled each other in bed watching the movie that questioned the way I think. I'll tell you all about it soon.Tamaku

  
  

• Make this your new religion

  Posted: October 27, 2010, 3:25 pm by Tamaku

  Yesterday I met a young male friend who's also the stepson of a former colleague. It's a bit complicated because I once dated his mum but that was a long time ago. He was out with his girlfriend browsing through the foodcourt at the Village Market when we bumped into each other. Luckily for me I wasn’t looking too shabby, I was in my orange Aquascutum short sleeves and tight white tennis shorts which show off some of my assets. Of course with the mandatory Oakley shades. I said hey Eric, I haven't seen you in a while let's stop and catch a beer. We pulled up some seats and ordered a round. Eric's girl was having a glass of red. He introduced her to me, Sam this is the Tamaku I’ve been telling you about. I laughed and said hope most of it good and we shook hands.
  
  So we chatted and I asked about Eric's parents. I particularly wanted to hear about his mum Kathleen, my ex. He said mum's doing fine her business even made it to Kenya Top 100 this year. I said cool, please do greet her for me. I was watching Eric and Samantha, the body language told me they were both madly in love (could be lust) and already doing it. I asked how long they'd been together and Sam looked at Eric and told me two weeks! Hmmm, I thought the honeymoon phase which means having sex four times a day just like the doses for Imodium when you've got acute diarrhea. They are both 18 and students at a city college.
  
  Anyway we got carried away and before we knew it they had five drinks each, I patiently had a couple of bottles of mineral water because I was driving. Finally they got nearly cooked and finished the little money I had on me and I offered to give them a ride home. Sam sat in the front passenger's seat, her long thin fingers tapping on tight Guess jeans to sounds of P-Unit Kare. Then we listened to Lemar’s It’s Not That Easy...girl, I tried to get you off my mind, it's not that easy. It was only a short hop to Eric's parents' home where they both alighted. As I turned the car round something in the front passenger's footwell caught my eye. I reached down and picked up a packet of Postinor - that emergency contraceptive. It won’t stop diseases but it can cause women to have irregular bleeding and nausea. I knew this must have dropped from Sam's bag. I thought those two are definitely going to need this the way they're all over each other so I fished out my mobile and dialed Eric's number. He came back to the car quickly because they had only just gone through the gates. I said I think this belongs to Samantha. He took the packet of pills and gave me a shamefaced grin because years ago I'd had The Talk with him when his mum asked me to.
  
  Last night before I drove off I looked straight Eric in the eye and said,'Son, you're just starting out in life. From tonight onwards better make it your religion to never go in without a skin!'Tamaku

  
  

• No swimming with piranha

  Posted: October 23, 2010, 8:55 pm by Tamaku

  A couple of fridays ago George and I went for evening drinks at the Hilton's Jockey Bar. We also shared complementary roasted peanuts for both our nuts which is important for libido and stamina. Not too many salted nuts though because you might have a heart attack. I’ll let you decide, studhood or an early grave. As the evening wore on George was looking even more deserving of a good tickle, he's a generous lover and good ex-cop because he only had two bottles of chilled White Cap lager. I didn't want to let the side down and I wasn't driving so I downed a mini forest of Tuskers but very, very reshponshibly because they were getting planted at over 300 shillings plus taxes each. Ouch.
  
  Soon we met the inevitable ma-gals, I say ma-gals because they were working girls (prostitutes is too entry-level). They didn't look too appetising but one man's poison may be another's meat. I should confess now that sometimes I think I could backslide and make an exception for the right chick only if we clicked on a sensuality level (only true freaks will understand) and if said candidate is an exceptional kisser. But not this sleazy clock-watching pair, I wouldn't screw them with your dick for money even though the recent census says the population of Kenyan women is almost equal to that of men. Also it tends to rain heavily in Nairobi especially when you've been drinking one must always pack a durex raincoat in the wallet it may be what saves your life in a storm. Many punters had their twelve minutes of fun and now they pray to God to just see another sunrise. Boys na girls, munanifeel?
  
  I telescoped a benign but tipsy gaze on them just in case they wanted to steal my mano George but they can't give him the sugar that he craves. One of the other girls said hello handsome when she passed by us going to the loo, I answered 'hi sunshine' but she turned back and said I wasn't speaking to you - I was speaking to your friend. I was shocked because she looked like she wanted to scratch my eyes out. Thing is George didn't even look up, he's very allergic to certain women. I also find girls who make the first move as appealing as a Somali pirate, I don't know why. When I left the bar counter to go for a smoke at the poolside area a floor above, I mapped everyone's drinks' position to make sure no one was encroaching on my territory.
  
  Eventually the women realised we were not immediate fodder laced with molasses because George had locked the palm of his hand on my knee and I was looking totally owned. Imelda may have had a point. So we decided to have innocent fun with Betty and Terry, who skillfully milked 3 drinks each from us of frontera chilean merlot wine expertly served by barman James. Betty, the one reeking fake Dior Addict Shine and stale dishwater breathe, sneakily showing the collar of a purple thong (so 90's) and desperately in need of manicure overhaul, told me she lives at Githurai 45 and said she wanted me to be a daddy for 5000 shillings for 2 shots bei ya kuongea (negotiable) at her digs. However breakfast, toothpaste and hot shower extra. And no early morning game drive which was the deal breaker. Cheap like lust is expensive, so I said sounds fab but no cigar babygal but here is a little something for you and your friend, enjoy yourselves - words even Bill Clinton couldn't bring himself to say to that woman. Being decent, gay men without firearms we declined to squeeze the melons or pinch their femme butts and left for home to start what we never like to finish.
  
  On the way home we sang along to the CD with TLC's Red Light Special turned up loud...baby it's yours, all yours if you want it tonight. You can see the video here and fill in the blanks about what we did when we got home, lol. George says I'm more than a handful when I've had a drink. Guilty as charged.
  
  Tamaku

  
  

• Turkish delights of Nairobi

  Posted: October 15, 2010, 6:21 pm by Tamaku

  I discovered a new place to quell hunger pangs on the rare ocassion that I'm in the city centre. 'Bobo's' for the true Turkish taste is on Banda Street. It's a couple of eateries down from Tropez, that bar that a little bird tells me is popular with twink trade if you're looking. I demolished this tombik pocketbread that came stuffed with doner meat, tomato, onion and lettuce. A potential heartattack - due to the grease - washed down with a coke all for around 400 shillings.

  When I went to wash my hands I found I couldn't get the soap dispenser to work: one of the very cute (not my type though, I prefer rugged men just like my George) waiters in denim dungarees came to my rescue. He said pull the knob out and then push it back in.
  I said really? That's what I always do. Lol!

  Sent from my iPhoneTamaku

  
  

• Where were you during the rescue of the Miners?

  Posted: October 13, 2010, 1:20 pm by Tamaku

  I'm sitting here having a lovely cup of black tea with ginger watching live CNN. George is at work, Imelda is lying on the couch all wrapped up like a sausage roll, she's not feeling too great. She's having what my mummy would call 'female problems' so I made her my version of a White Russian: a double tot of Smirnoff vodka, large spoon of honey from Kitui mixed with hot milk and a dash of Amarula. She's also working her way through a small box of a dozen ferroro rocher chocolates, not being her chatty self.

  It's looking like it will be a quiet day here but one that I'll never ever forget. Thank you dear God for watching over the Chilean miners. Four out so far and just pure, spectacular jubilation for loved ones but twenty-nine still to go.

  Meanwhile I discovered how to take a 'self' screenshot of my phone. Pretty cool.Tamaku

  
  

• Daniel arap Moi is a lonely old man in need of a woman

  Posted: October 8, 2010, 4:30 pm by Tamaku

  'Ayatollah’ Moi recently joined the lynch mob baying for the scalp of Special Programmes Minister Esther Murugi who is reported to have called on Kenyans to shed their prejudice and exercise tolerance towards fellow citizens of a different sexual orientation. Not content with the mess his mismanagement cost our country, Moi's recent judgement calls clearly demonstrate just how out of sync the octogenarian ex-president is with the nation’s psyche. Esther Murugi, whom I'm glad to note made no apology, was making the connection between stigma attached to homosexuality and unchecked spread of HIV due to fear and ignorance. The self-styled professor of politics needs to sit under a tree and pick one of the pupils from the many Moi Primary schools littered across the land to join up the dots for him.
  
  Moi's hatred for homosexuals may stem from a particularly unpleasant prostate exam, yes - even ex presidents over 50 are advised to get their trunk checked annually (gay men without boyfriends are known to insist on more frequent inspections, hehehehe) but you've got to relax - it's for your own good so bite on an index finger (yours, silly, not the doctor's) or rungu if you've got it with you and take it like a man. Ok, I accept it's difficult to teach an old dog new tricks. With wife Lena since departed (RIP), one may ask why doesn't Moi go and slaver over the ample bosom of a willing school ex-headmistress. Being mindful of other people’s welfare I agonised over Moi’s predicament and concluded it's time that Safaricom or other public spirited company sponsored a TV show called Help Find Moi A Woman Widow. Oh the bittersweet irony, after the assassinations of that regime! Sons Gideon and Jonathan would be judges along with Kenneth Matiba and Charles Rubia who were both incarcerated during Moi's era, just for balance. It would be a huge success especially given the matronly charms of a specific TV presenter. Catherine Kasavuli could you please agree to be host?! After all he's always commenting on gays but we've never seen a woman on his arm, ha! Don't just talk, Kenya expects.
  
  What's painfully unforgettable though is that millions of Kenyans died from the Aids epidemic while the past regime had its snout and paws stuck in the trough of public resources. But we picked ourselves up and moved on stronger, that's why I can gleefully say that Moi like that other caricature Robert Mugabe is just another attention whore who's past his sell by date.Tamaku

  
  

• Meanwhile back at the farm

  Posted: October 4, 2010, 4:22 pm by Tamaku

  Just arrived at my destination. These greenhouses take farming to a scale and intensity that's difficult to describe. Forget my 1/2 acre patch of green at home that I'm so proud of when I pick a bunch, this is the Wal-Mart of horticulture.

  Off to my meeting, lunch is promised at Sopa Lodge. This being Keroche country, I'll allow myself a mild Summit lager shandy.Tamaku

  
  

• I'm on top of the world

  Posted: October 4, 2010, 3:15 pm by Tamaku

  Kenya really is God's own country - stunning vista across the Great Rift Valley at Viewpoint.Tamaku

  
  

• Naivasha here we come

  Posted: October 4, 2010, 1:53 pm by Tamaku

  Good morning folks. Had a nasty cold for the last three days caught from Imelda that I've passed on to poor George. I'm now on my way to Naivasha for a business lunch at one of the many flower farms there. I'm driving down that killer road so please remember me in your novenas. I haven't graduated to helicopters yet but the views are still breathtaking - expect a pic or two soon.

  Have a wonderful day. xx xxx

  Sent from my iPhoneTamaku

  
  

• Prime Minister's Sexy Office

  Posted: September 30, 2010, 7:42 pm by Tamaku

  Check out the PM's new office block. I took the pic this afternoon but was afraid some overzealous security people might grab my phone for photographing a 'state installation' or something ridiculous along those lines.
  Lol!Tamaku

  
  

• Gay to gay living

  Posted: September 28, 2010, 1:19 am by Tamaku

  Greetings, fellow travellers. The heavens opened late this afternoon when I was out in town. Nairobians hate rain, the splashes from muddy waters stain their crisp business clothes and that means expensive dry cleaning bills. What never ceases to amaze is how many people seem to be caught up when the weather changes: if it rained yesterday at 5 pm-ish (which it did) and you were drenched because you hadn’t carried a brolly, it’s also likely to rain today (which it has) and you’ll be drenched again without your brolly. Makes perfect sense to me. So for a second day running I was treated to the spectacle of elegantly dressed women covering their heads with supermarket plastic carrier bags to save their precious weaves. I’ve heard that some weaves can shrink causing the wearer much embarrassment attempting to account for loss of hair bounce to a husband or lover. That’s the explanation for some of the unwashed nests you see some women carrying on their heads.
  
  Recently a Kenyan friend who lives in Germany entrusted me with some cash to assist him purchase a property. He absolutely loved the internet pictures of the maisonettes at Greenspan at the eastern part of the city. I viewed the show house and confirmed that they are indeed very good value for money at 7.8 million shillings. Armed with a registered power of attorney, I’ve found myself deep in a maze with scum-of-the-earth ( aka lawyers), robbers (aka bankers) and con artistes (aka real estate agents). And I’ve been down some seriously dubious parts of the city trying to conclude this deal - for instance today I was dodging other pedestrians on Luthuli Avenue. Yes, you’ll find drug-addicted prostitutes, a witch-doctor’s practise and money counterfeiters on the same floor as advocates engaged in conveyancing. Poetic justice if you ask me.
  
  On my way back to the car I popped into Tuskys supermarket and bought garden shears because the handle on ours fell off the other day. I also picked up a plant sprayer, because I’ve been trying to grow petunias in a pot and I discovered that the usual watering-can holes let out too much water meaning the seeds didn’t stay buried. When I got to the car there was a light drizzle starting and I spotted a young lad hawking pirate dvd’s. He was standing by a shop entrance wearing a faded t-shirt announcing Hardrock Café - Maui. I asked him his name as I flicked through his wares and he answered Kama which is short for Kamau. He looked very interesting and with much potential if you know what I mean, judging by the well-toned forearms. But I’m not looking - because I’m happily almost married to George - but if I was looking I wouldn’t have attempted anything with Kama because I prefer guys who’ve at least attained the legal age to buy alcohol in Iowa. I said thanks very much fella and paid him just 50 shillings for the dvd of Knight and Day, I didn’t feel even a twinge of guilt because I think Mr Cruise and Ms Diaz don’t need to watch the pennies.
  
  Now we’ve just had our dinner. Imelda made a lovely minced beef and vegetable sauce stuffed into al dente ruote pasta wagon wheels. Sinfully delish. Looks like an early night for us watching the dvd and then I’ll see if George is in the mood. Don’t you lovely people stay up worrying about me - I have my secret tricks to get him crazy and I know exactly what buttons I have to press, hahahaha. Night, night.        Tamaku

  
  

• Lunch for one

  Posted: September 21, 2010, 5:23 pm by Tamaku

  Today I'm just spending some me time in Westlands, Sarit Centre to be exact. I've just been served this appetising meal at Flavours of Africa by a smiling young woman with a captivating gap in her upper front teeth. When she asked what drink I wanted she innocently made what I only understand to be the universal blowjob-at-the-end-of-porno-scene gesture, lol! I said yes, yes - cock, please.....hehehehe. I don't think she got it because I'm now just sipping on the real thing.Tamaku

  
  

• The problem with leaving everything to God

  Posted: September 15, 2010, 1:45 pm by Tamaku

  
  Once we finally got through the monstrous traffic jam along Outer ring road we were on our bouncy way along the scarred Kangundo road taking in the usual sights: grown man urinating on the roadside bushes just before Njiru and muguka-chewing matatu drivers at the helm of Isuzu and Toyota Hiace coffins.  But they were no match for cool cat Imelda at just below the max speed limit. Women are poor at parking but they are better drivers than men and speed is not what it’s all about. Imelda made me listen to Eminem ft Rihanna  Love The Way You Lie about 11 times that day, it's still playing inside my head even now.... Just gonna stand there and watch me burn, but that's alright....ta tata tata.....
  I vetoed her suggestion though that we stop at Mawe Mbili Resort Park just before the bypass junction at Ruai for some roast meat because I said, Mel at this rate I'll be hobbling with gout before I'm forty five then who will want me . So we had a break at Joska, at Two Stars Restaurant, (definitely NOT Michelin stars), I had chapati and beef soup while Imelda had rice and beef stew, but I shared mine with a photogenic fly which drowned not able to take off after binge-drinking my soup. Oh, before I forget, we also came across two road blocks manned by bent cops, they took a casual look at us and waved us through but we spied them shame their uniform taking a hundred shillings to also allow minibuses carrying excess passengers.  Petty Corruption is an infectious and difficult to cure disease festering in greed. Poor Africans like myself seem to suffer it most.These kleptomaniac cops prefer hosing down the blood of maimed and dead citizens from minibuses cabrioletted after they've collided with speeding lorries. Further up the road Imelda pointed out a lorry that had a sign painted on its tail, hanging at your own risk.
   
  Anyway, we finally arrived at my friend  Nyiva's home near a place called Mbilini just before 1.30 pm. Nyiva is also an ex-colleague who is recovering from recent  serious injuries sustained riding pillion on a bodaboda (motorcycle taxi). She also got her left foot caught in the spokes and smashed her elbow in the subsequent crash. She's making painfully slow progress getting fed with a straw through wired jaw. Nyiva exhausted her savings paying hospital bills now her teen son is getting bored at home because mum can't afford his school fees. Police still haven't found the reckless rider who abandoned Nyiva bleeding in a ditch when it happened. Like so many Kenyans Nyiva only said just leave it to God.So Imelda and I were both very quiet in contemplation on the way back to Nairobi. Nyiva's words kept running through my mind like ticker tape. Leave it to God. Afghanistan. Beltran Leyva Cartel and the drug war in Mexico.  Motorcycle tips passenger over in Kangundo.  God.Tamaku

  
  

• Eid Mubarak

  Posted: September 10, 2010, 1:51 pm by Tamaku

  Imelda and I are on our way to Kangundo to visit a friend. At the moment though we are just getting baked under the hot Nairobi sun because Imelda opted for the Outer Ring Road instead of Jogoo Road now we are at a standstill at the Kariobangi roundabout. Maina Kageni is doing a good job at Classic 105 fm spinning some superb old skool. Treat her like a lady just played, I winked at Imelda, she says I always treat her like one. I said that's easy to do because you are a true lady.Tamaku

  
  

• Seeds of discord

  Posted: September 6, 2010, 1:33 am by Tamaku

  I went out today to buy tree seeds because I’m tired of getting ripped off by the nurseries on Limuru Road. It was a lovely drive racing manic matatus from just after Muthangari, it was so exhilarating with the sun roof open and watching the lush green of trees on the central reservation go past, until I think after Uthiru where some quack of a road engineer decided to build a concrete solid wall for miles. So dangerous, expensive and unnecessary. I smiled when I passed ‘Nucleur’ service station.
  
  I turned left at Zambezi (the filling station not the river otherwise you'll be in the wrong country Mr Livingstone, lol). My pirelli scorpion tyres and suspension groaned at the sight of the torn tarmac, stone and soil omelette of a road leading to Nderi where the Kenya Forestry Seed Centre at KEFRI is located.
  
  When I got to the gate it was one thirty the guard said sorry but the staff are out to lunch. I said sawa sawa I'll just leave the car here and come back later so I alighted and started wandering down the gentle slope to dusty and sleepy Nderi trading centre. I also took this photo of the sign outside - one gold star for you and a kiss from me if you spotted the donkey.
  
  
  
  I saw a young knock-kneed woman with lovely dimples selling fruit and veg and I said hello gorgeous. I asked her whether she could do me a mixed fruit salad, she laughed hahahaha until I could almost see her liver and said this is not Nairobi where you can buy anything. For instance, dear reader, you can buy an iPhone new in a box for 4999 shillings (less than 60 dollars) in the less salubrious parts of the capital city but it's designed in Shenzhen not California. Anyway, I said to Fruity Lady I know this is Nderi and settled for a banana at 5 shillings and told her ubarikiwe (be blessed), she replied nishabarikiwa tayari (I have already been blessed). Then I walked further down to Nderi Gen. Store which was advertising ice cold soda however this turned out to be room temperature soda because the fridge was not switched on. I walked back to the seed centre as it was now nearly two, passing idle groups of hungry looking young men. They turned to stare as I passed, George says people stare at me because I usually avoid eye contact and I have a walk that says I know who you did last night - only I know this can't be true if I wasn't there.
  
  2pm I was back at KEFRI and bought my seeds from an unhelpful and unremarkable man let's call him Zephania. I think he pays money to speak because he only uttered monosyllabic phrases. His demeanour was unbothered and jaded. Then I was punished by a one hour wait from the cashier who was still out to lunch. She strolled in at 18 minutes past 3 looking bored with no apology. Because I can also be a petty, spoiled brat and I was feeling pissed off I didn’t even say thank you when she gave me my change, I just stormed off. Annoying public servants such as Miss Attitude are a law unto themselves.
  
  Speaking of which on my way home I was stuck in traffic for more than an hour because a truck carrying some plant machinery had stalled and flow was restricted to one lane southbound. Arrrgggh x 99 to the power of 13. Traffic cop Scholastica Mutheu brandished her baton banging on car bonnets to stop matatu drivers from adding to the chaos. In spite of her valiant efforts I still got caught up in rush hour traffic further up the road. Not good.Tamaku

  
  

• Nairobi City Council’s Walk Of Shame

  Posted: September 3, 2010, 4:01 pm by Tamaku

  
  Yesterday Imelda and I ventured to Gikomba market, a ward on the east of Nairobi with a thriving industry for many things. There you find jua kali artisans hammering and welding the most fantastic array of creations out of sheets of metal from storage trunks to guttering. We were after a barbecue which we quickly found and purchased after about 45 minutes haggling with enterprising Patrick Omondi, a very likeable chap who told me he’s been running his business with his orphaned nephew Tony for 8 years.  Patrick even ordered us scalding-hot over sweetened tea served in green camping mugs; great guy with the whitest pearls I’ve seen in a long time and very surprising given how much sugar he puts in his tea. These are the faces of Kenyans that make me proud to be one unlike bloated politicians who make me sick. We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office (Aesop).After we loaded our purchase in the boot we both felt ready for lunch, Imelda said she wanted to eat some stewed tripe and I also felt like having some because it’s been a long time mainly because none of our household can stand the smell when it’s getting cooked. But we enjoy eating it, funny that, I know! I said to Imelda I know just the place where we can have some delicious tripe stew with ugali and lashings of hot kachumbari  salad even though you risk catching some serious stomach bug due to suspect sanitation so I drove the short distance eastwards to Burma market because people should never fear an adventure. Well, after parking the car we had to wade through the most disgusting unimaginable filthy muck of muddy gunge. You can see the picture here in case you don’t believe me.  It stank worse than raw sewage and looked like the vomit of a pregnant hippo. The bods at City Hall and whoever has been in-charge of the Constituency Development Fund ought to hang their heads in shame at the very least before rolling up their sleeves to shovel away this slime. Then they should explain how they can collect business permit fees, rates and god knows what other taxes and allow Nairobians to eke out a living in such deplorably unhygienic conditions. Anyway I hope I haven’t put you off your lunch or the erotic thoughts you’re entertaining about the new colleague in the tight top in your office when you really should be working. Actually,  I didn’t even eat the tripe after  that sight which believe it or not was right bang outside the entrance to the market! When we got to Edu’s stall - whom I haven’t seen in at least three years -  I opted for roast meat and Imelda had stewed chicken with a saucer plate each of hot kachumbari. Both our meals  were excellent and at budget friendly prices.  You guys should visit Edu’s stall, say Tamaku sent you there for free food! Lol! But the moment was almost ruined afterwards when we had to retrace our steps over the soggy, gooey mess we both nearly brought up our lunch which would even have been a decoration to what was under our feet.          Tamaku

  
  

• How to make love to a woman

  Posted: September 1, 2010, 6:35 pm by Tamaku

  Hi diary. What have I been up to? Well this morning Imelda and I decided to go to Nairobi's Central Business district, something we very rarely do. The streets are just too crowded and it feels as if one is always navigating around people who stop to chat in the middle of the sidewalks oblivious of other pedestrian traffic. Anyway we parked the car at the Stanley carpark where the Nakumatt store that was destroyed by fire used to be. Then we made our way along Kimathi Street, Imelda was making me laugh saying that I should have worn that scarf I recently knitted for George because I was saying how cold I was in just a t-shirt. It's ridiculous that Nairobi is still chilly in the mornings even now in September.
  
  We looked at some shop windows along Mama Ngina Street and went into Bata just next to Dormans where I treated Imelda to a lovely pair of brown Hush Puppies. She was over the moon with them. I was too with the free gift of a hijab which I got as part of the Eid Mubarak promotion that Bata have on at the moment. After that we popped into Dormans for an early lunch. I had grilled beef kebabs with sorrowful looking chips and served with a slice of tomato and a slice of cucumber! Imelda had a fish curry served with fried vegetable rice and a more substantial side salad.
  
  I was feeling sleepy after the meal so Imelda drove us back home. I've just turned on my laptop sitting in the garden thinking about that hijab which I plan to wear for George coming home from work today. We can have some role play, I think I'll ask him to call me Shaafia for one night only, lol! I wanted to know how to wear the hijab like the alluring Kenyan Muslim women that fascinate me so much when I see them on the streets so I decided to ask google how. When I typed 'how to..' the top suggestion that showed up was 'how to make love to a woman'....Hmmmm. Surely.Tamaku

  
  

• Where am I?

  Posted: August 27, 2010, 2:44 pm by Tamaku

  I'm all alone at Heathrow waiting to board BA 65 for Nairobi after 3 days in London. Weather's been miserable as usual, lots of rain showers. I can't wait to get back home even though I'll miss today's celebrations to mark our new Constitution. But I'll be with you all in spirit, in fact I'm just popping over to the Crown Rivers Bar in the departure lounge for a quick double. I know it's naughty at this hour but just this once, ok. Cheers my dears!Tamaku

  
  

• What I did on Wednesday

  Posted: August 14, 2010, 7:44 pm by Tamaku

  Woke up in the morning just before 8 to find George had already left for work. After a quick shower and change I came downstairs to the kitchen where Imelda had my breakfast waiting. I find it too chilly nowadays to sit out in the veranda in the morning. Imelda asked me, did you have a nice sleep and I lied and said yeah we even had the most amazing sex. Truth is I hadn't been getting any, George is working late at a new site on Ngong Road where they're fitting CCTV and other security gadgets. So in fact it had been one month, two days, nine hours and forty-two minutes since we last mauled each other. Anyway after Imelda cleared away the plates I asked her what about you Mel, are you getting your pipes cleaned out regularly, she laughed coyly and said don't worry Tam, a girl always finds a way. Hmmmm ok. I said good, let me know if I can be of any assistance or there's any facilitation required towards fulfilling that enterprise. Note to self: must remember to get Imelda some new rechargeable batteries for her bedroom 'sat nav'.
  
  Ten o'clockish Zawadi, my friend Mike’s wife, came by bearing gifts (pun intended). I'd done some work last week for Mike and some other of his business associates. We never discussed pay, I've often said to people whenever I accept to do consultancy work to pay me what they think is fair. Some of you would say 10 shillings but that's just to be mean. Most times it actually works, so I took the 330k that you see here and said thanks very much Zawa, not bad for three days’ work. Don't worry Mr KRA, I'll file on time. Sorry, what's that about 'itemise all earnings', I'm slightly deaf in one ear you know, haha.
  
  Then I went online to deal with some mail, I also read Cassandrae's blog which is just insane because I've not come across that level of psychosis recently. But it's funny and clever unlike this blog. When I finished I came back to the kitchen and we had a lettuce, pears and olives salad with some garlic bread and prosciutto ham. Imelda needed to be at college(accountancy) by 2pm so we got in the car and she drove leisurely till Parklands via Sarit Centre where we stopped so I could stick the 300k in the bank.
  
  
  The lovely teller called Stella - I think she's in love with me - she asked in a lost girl's voice where have you been Bwana Tamaku, I said shughuli mingi with work and stuff but now I'm here and so happy to see you. I was thinking hello darling I've got an ATM card why would I want to be in the bank every day. However I do encourage women of all shapes and breast sizes by flirting back at them like a good Bashanova so I leaned closer to the window and said you're never out of my mind Stesh in fact right now you're driving me out of it, oh and blue really is your colour, you sexy minx you. She giggled back the squeal that a dolphin would understand to mean come and take me right now here on this counter I don't care if the other customers want to watch. I said cool it baby by fanning yourself with this 1000 shillings note when you go for lunch, nice day mwah, mwah. Then I grabbed my receipt and escaped back to the car.
  
  I stayed in Parklands, went to the sports club and did some cycling while thinking about lots of stuff like Isaiah 58:Verses 1 to 14 (one of my favs - the only ones I can recite from memory). I thought what if the Belmez Faces are really true, and who stole my pet kitten Daisy when I was only six years old which is when my heart was first broken into little pieces. Could that be the root cause for my homosexuality - a pussy snatched from a boy? Definitely some food for thought there. I still had my Oakley black whiskers shades and earphones on listening to Mbilia Bel’s Nakei Nairobi - it's simply genius, makes me sad and happy at the same time, nostalgia sometimes has that effect too.
  
  Afterwards I did some weights to tone up my wrists and neck muscles and then had a shower. Because I'd sweated so much I didn't pee in the cubicle nor did I rub one out though I must admit I was feeling very horny from the lack of it. I also had two sneaky cigarettes in the car. When I was still in the car park George rang and asked where are you I said I'm at Parklands Sports Club. He said wait for me I'm coming. So it was a wonderful surprise, prophetic even, because we picked up Imelda and drove home like the happy family we are and then later that night George and I really got off. I'm surprised you didn't hear us if you live around Kiambu Road, the racket we caused, woooiii, hehehe.Tamaku

  
  

• Scarecrows like Apostle Dorothy Kweyu can’t walk the talk

  Posted: August 12, 2010, 7:23 pm by Tamaku

  I’d like those of you who haven’t done so to meet Dorothy Kweyu, world-renowned thinker who happens to be revise editor at Kenya’s most successful media stable. Dee is also a shining beacon of everything Christian and how to raise the perfect kids as she often likes to remind her readers. Her least successful exploit though is as a mother. Why do I say that? Her hobby, when she’s not shaking the tambourine to O When The Saints Go Marching In, is gay bashing and preaching intolerance. Lately this has also become her specialist subject at work. This Dorothy is no friend.
  
  People like Dee with their Victorian prudery do a great disservice to children whom they fervently wish to imbue an alien moral and social code at odds with modern life. They make poor parents because of their blissful ignorance hiding behind the scriptures whenever their capacity to further interrogate their own particular sense of sexual morality is called to question. They can only regurgitate some verse from an over-thumbed Old Testament promising the wrath of God over matters they disagree. DK, you’ll find that kids nowadays need more than just ‘because I tell you so.’
  
  Dotty is obsessed with the lives of gay and lesbian citizens seeing them as the greatest evil that has permeated all parts of everyday Kenyan life. When a matatu driver cuts her up while approaching a roundabout - assuming she drives a car and not a horse-drawn carriage - it's because he must be sitting on an unlubricated buttplug. Of course he is driving like a maniac because he's dashing off for a quick shag with the conductor. People like her often blame others for their inadequacies. Needless to say, but I'll say it anyway, she probably thinks the reason she hasn't made the higher echelons is because she refuses to crop her hair and wear combat trousers to work.
  
  Dorothy will find it a compliment when I say she has been uneconomical with the truth because I’m a gay man and therefore an ‘abomination’ to her god and fellow men. I’ve also read some rather unflattering things said about St. Dorothy. You can read them here. She is misusing her position by espousing personal prejudices in the national press by writing homophobia-filled articles and only choosing to invite 'expert' input from right-wing Christian doctors who share her bigotry. NMG take note, this kind of unbalanced journalism is unhealthy.
  
  I actually wanted to call Ms Kweyu a Christian Taliban but that would be unfair on the real Taliban who are at least prepared to die for what they believe in. In the previous piece she revealed how she went against her conscience to revise for publication a story about gay acceptance in church. That's why I've taken it upon myself to revise the work of the revise editor.
  
  On account of that admission alone it’s not surprising that Dot has slipped up and highlighted that she also lacks the courage of her convictions.Tamaku

  
  

• Red or Green We Are All Kenyans

  Posted: August 3, 2010, 11:45 pm by Tamaku

  
  
  Whatever the outcome of tomorrow's Referendum, let's all preach peace. xx xxxTamaku

  
  

• Diasporic Acid

  Posted: August 1, 2010, 4:12 pm by Tamaku

  I continue to do my bit to expand the vocabulary for Kenyanese speakers. ‘Diasporic acid’ is a phrase which one can use to describe vitriolic postings on Mashada.com or Misterseed.com by some Kenyans who now live toil in Kansas or Essex. These mainly homophobic commentators in the Diaspora like to trade vile insults that would cause offense to a drunken sailor on all manner of petty or imagined issues taking place back at home. Invariably these spats never fail to expose primal tribal tensions. It's a fact that some of the worst post election violence in Kenya's history was witnessed on poorly moderated internet forums and chat rooms all in the name of free speech.
  
  It's easy to spot a recently returned acidic diasporian on the streets of Nairobi by the over-sized baggy jeans, baseball tops, Timberlands and fake bling acquired after months of double shifts at Grange Acres Care Home. Brimming with a sackful of Dorahs, Pauds and sometimes Urohs they'll dazzle locals with their largesse at Simmers on a Tuesday afternoon. Don't forget the newly acquired accents which come on and off like Oprah's weight. Words that have an ‘i’ are suddenly pronounced with an é - taxi, Nairobi even Uchumi become taxé, Naérobé, Uchumé. I take my hat off to the poor but calculating local getting thus entertained to death. In exchange for the free beer and food they have to feign puppy-dog concentration by nodding happily to marathonic monologues that include ‘..back in the UK every dog has a dentist...’ or ‘..Shakira lives in my hood in New Jersey.....’
  
  A month later having spent a small fortune on booze, insatiable relatives, a serviced apartment with jacuzzi and fitted sluts these lonely, drained and dejected characters are easily recognisable at JKIA waiting to board a flight back to the Lands of Plenty where a dingy bedsit and eye watering credit card bills await.
  
  Example of use
  
  Non-resident Kenyan: Fo shizzle ma nizzle, I could murder a bizzle*. Where the nearest KFC at?
  
  Resident Kenyan: Man, you’ve got a bad case of diasporic acid!
  
  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  *Buffalo to you and meTamaku

  
  

• The Games they won’t be showing on TV

  Posted: July 30, 2010, 1:41 am by Tamaku

  
  
  2010 Gay Games start tomorrow in Cologne. Will Kenya bag a medal?Tamaku

  
  

• New look

  Posted: July 29, 2010, 9:32 pm by Tamaku

  Hey, how are my fellow homos, lezzies, t-girls, bi’s and straights? Hope you are all well and happy enjoying life.
  
  I was bored with the other blog template so I decided to go for a new look. Also Lindsay said she didn’t like the previous one because of the colours. So here we go yet again. Happy with this one sweetie? This particular template is Ribena-red and not Rutonomics-red, lol. You should all know by now that I’m all for passing the draft Constitution on August 4th. Nothing much been happening with us lately, just sleep a lot, play scrabble, cook sometimes and wait for it - I’m even learning how to knit!! Yes, I’m knitting George a scarf which he has promised to wear in the evenings when we go out. Imelda has been teaching me how to weave some magic with wool. I must admit it’s very enjoyable, I might even knit some legwarmers for him keeper-of-the-key-to-my-heart. I'm not sure if he'll wear them to work, hahaha. Otherwise I’m bored as hell waiting for next week when lives will resume with a renewed hope for the future (fingers crossed).
  
  I’ll be back soon. Just tell me what you think about the template. Love ya. xxx xxxTamaku

  
  

• It’s Referendum Not Referendumb!

  Posted: July 25, 2010, 9:14 pm by Tamaku

  Hello diary. Well, it’s now just 10 short days before we vote for the chance to usher in a New Order. Lies are being peddled by desperate politicians who think they are still the penis of Kenya. Unimaginatively they continue to cultivate the regressive politics of fear. It’s a fact that they are champions of a primitive but dangerous conspiracy driven by ambition to attain higher office at whatever cost. It must not succeed. We are warned that the draft Constitution is not the right one by a tyrant who was at the helm during those dark decades of brutal misrule, looting orgies and assassinations. Fathers, mothers, sons and daughters were tortured. Countless were denied their rights by those who now assume the moral high ground. We may forgive the oppressor but we will never forget their wickedness.
  
  Embedded within this group are the feudal lords who shamelessly traverse the country aboard helicopters while we know that they even stole morsels from the mouths of Kenya’s orphans. It’s unfortunate that they still walk free brandishing trademark rungus (some gold-tipped, others beaded) to tell us what to be afraid of but not what to be hopeful for. Thankfully citizens are much wiser and have the courage to say that the emperor and his coterie in the Red corner wear no clothes. Today the majority of Kenyans are ready to step up and deliver that knockout punch.
  
  There comes a moment in life for some very tough decisions. I am excited to feel these refreshing winds of change blowing from the horizon. Young and not so young know that the time is upon us to move this country forward - a date with destiny when patriots must make the selfless defining choice for the common good. My fellow Kenyans, we are also presented with a rare opportunity to heal some of the wounds from the post election violence that almost destroyed our great nation.
  
  That’s why I am asking you to do what is right for your country come 4th August 2010; please vote YES for the change we all deserve.Tamaku

  
  

• Child Sexual Abuse

  Posted: July 19, 2010, 3:42 am by Tamaku

  Who is the person in this report, now accused of abusing kids while purporting to run an orphanage?
  
  I have my suspicions about the identity but we shall have to wait until police release further details...Tamaku

  
  

• Why I’ll not be going to the Crusade in the Park

  Posted: July 18, 2010, 11:00 pm by Tamaku

  Hosting a ‘Crusade’ is a popular weekend business practiced by Kenyan televangelists who also dabble in politics. Kenyan crusaders like to preach louder than a marauding elephant blowing a vuvuzela and insist on tithing (called giving testimoney) from the mainly unemployed, slum-dwelling sunburned followers perhaps because their god is not only partially deaf but also has an expensive coke habit. However they won't pay taxes nor publish audited accounts because they are busy fighting minorities such as Muslims and gays from flower-decked shaded podiums. They are driven in top of the range marques proudly flaunting Dunghill suits, Roberto Calvary shirts and tarnished Submarina Rolexes all bought from a stall in Garissa Lodge for two thousand shillings. The second hand has dropped off and is now just rattling inside the case. You'll find them getting their teeth flossed and ears dewaxed in the treatment room of a mansion fit for a Liberace.
  
  Unbeknown to them, these televangelists harbour deep-seated feelings of self-loathing and hatred of a painful peasant pedigree which explains the obsession with being reborn again. Whatever you do never ever mention abortion unless it's for the 16 year old daughter who recently got knocked up by the watchman. In mitigation a televangelist will say that's a special case to weed out the abnormal recessive genes of poverty and ignorance.
  
  Crusade leaders are renowned for their huge shiny foreheads which they use to dazzle audiences into mass hysteria with deadly success. That’s why too much crusading often leads to a form of intense multiple orgasms sometimes known as seeing the Glory or talking gibberish while thrashing about on the floor and frothing at the lips (both sets, ehehehe) - a phenomenon not dissimilar to the effects of a sustained tongue-licking on da spot, yeah baby right there. In the process you’ll also lose your Nokia N8 - the one with the porn clips - to a fellow sheeper.
  
  Example of use:
  
  Man 1: Jesus Christ man! Why are you walking around with a 9 inch bulge in your trousers?
  
  Man 2 (not JC): I'm going to that crusade next weekend at Tononoka grounds. All the bitches bishops will be there.Tamaku

  
  

• A beheading took place in Uganda....

  Posted: July 10, 2010, 12:15 am by Tamaku

  .....but which account of events is the correct one?
  
  
  
  Beheaded Ugandan NOT an LGBT Activist
  orGay Kenya's Statement On Beheading of LGBT ActivistTamaku

  
  

• Bashanova

  Posted: July 6, 2010, 1:17 am by Tamaku

  This is a new word that I’ve coined to describe a secretly gay man who plays around with women’s emotions by getting them to fall hopelessly in love with him. It’s formed from the Swahili word for homosexual - Basha - and the name of that serial heart-breaker, Casanova. A Bashanova’s actions help him cope with the burdens our conservative society places on his sexuality.
  
  Bashanova-ing involves targeting women by graciously accepting to accompany them on shopping expeditions for devilish lingerie and outfits. He never complains about the time spent waiting outside changing rooms and will never ever say it’s time to go watch Ghana vs Uruguay. Instead he’ll suggest that they enjoy double deep heat treatments and seaweed masks at a spa. Intimate lattes at Dormans after work are standard followed by going back to her place where he’ll conjure up a sumptuous lasagne from scratch before cuddling together on the sofa to watch multiple episodes of Ugly Betty while nibbling on chocolate and sipping icy Baileys. A successful Bashanova is the envy of other men because women want to spend so much time with him from the minute they look into his eyes. Women swear that they can hear the sound of their ovaries pinging like an elevator when he brushes his hands on their hair. Not surprisingly, he also understands that sex is not everything and that true love waits, yada, yada, yada - he might even whisper the L word but only on the phone when he calls to check whether she received the flowers he sent to the office on Monday morning.
  
  I’m sure some of you have also come across these Bashanovas. Sadly a true Bashanova can never be converted although many women will attempt all manner of tricks in a futile attempt to move their relationship to the next level.Tamaku

  
  

• Private thoughts of a Kenyan MP

  Posted: July 3, 2010, 9:54 pm by Tamaku

  My name is Bure Kabisa, Member of Parliament (or BK to my dear mother) from a constituency here in Kenya.
  
  I've heard so much anger in the last couple of days directed against the enviable joys of being a Kenyan MP demanding extra salary and I'm happy to note that most of you are being patriotic Kenyans with all this hypocrisy. True to form, even that Tamaku had the temerity to call our craft Politricks! I'd like to catch him and teach him a few tricks myself especially now that he's unemployed. But not alone with him in a room because I AM NOT GAY,OK?
  
  Can I first say that you should expect us to cheat because you have also been up burning the midnight oil scheming ways to bend light with your moneyed bishops who are also very talented in distorting facts. In other words remember you can never defraud an honest man. What does that say about you?
  
  We don't care what you think about us because we live in blissful ignorance of the abject poverty surrounding us. I have many ways to spend your cold cash such as paying for my mistress Claire to get her eyelashes tinted in Bangkok every 3 months after getting her eyebrows threaded and shaped. Claire is fond of traveling so last year I cooked up a 10 day trip to Canada which you all paid for. Business class of course so that we could later enjoy romantic weekends in Mombasa on the airmiles. She especially loved Dildo (the place in Newfoundland, duh! not the other one which is man's greatest rival). Have I told you that Claire is the age of my daughter who is still in college abroad on a fully funded scholarship? Some of you will call me a sexual predator, however because I have money and can get anyone I want, I see myself as the victim for choosing to be with her as well as a few others on the side. My logic used to amuse my teachers but who's laughing now. Things are not always as they appear so you should never rush to judge. But you are allowed to when you are prepared to pay him a handsome bribe. By the way Claire is my favorite with her firm caramel apple butt which I enjoy regularly, thanks to Pfizer for Viagra. I know she loves me for my game. Again I AM NOT GAY, I like to think of myself as a gangster so I guess it’s fair to say that Claire is my bangster. Some nights we bang five times until I feel like I'm having a heart attack therefore it's wise to use my time in parliament to catch a few winks and just rest. It's not easy when you're over 60...
  
  You people on the other hand have never had a taste of the good life so you will only squander any money on basics like foodstuffs for your children. Have you got any idea how much charcoal grilled spiny rock lobster, flambéed with brandy and served in lemon butter sauce at the Tamarind costs nowadays? I like it accompanied with baby carrots and mixed salad leaves so my shit doesn't stink. Jeez, by the way why do you people have children you can't afford, just breeding like rabbits? Tsk,tsk.
  
  Day in day out you waste time shouting yourselves hoarse about our pay and perks which are our honorable right, why don't you just go out there somewhere (don’t ask me where) and make money because that is also your right.  I'm getting sick of attending your fundraisers, do you realise that goat meat is not good for my cholesterol? That's the reason once you’ve tasted a good tuna steak there's no turning back. Surely when do you expect me to use my golf club membership when you also want to see me in parliament debating? Really, I pity you guys, don't you have places to go and get pampered on a Tuesday afternoon like have a massage with extras...nyenyenye, all you do is talk bad about us. What have we done, nothing! A bad pain in the ass you all are. All together now, BK IS NOT GAY!!!
  
  And I don't want to hear dirty questions like 'accountability' with the CDF money because I let my wife's brother use that to top up his beer money.
  
  Remember we already have a deal: you only voted for me because of my tribe, stop pretending now that you were after service delivery and diligence to duty.
  What I am saying is quit blaming others for the problems you create because you won’t take responsibility for your own destiny.
  
  See you in 2012 around March time, it will be my pleasure to do it all again.
  
  Bure Kabisa MPTamaku

  
  

• Politricians

  Posted: July 1, 2010, 3:00 am by Tamaku

  Definition: Poli-tri-shans (n). Current crop of tax-evading Kenyan MPs who should never be trusted. Highly skilled in the art of stealing the taxes of poor citizens who vote for them. Also known as the hardworking, thieving rogues who give a bad name to owners of Range Rover Vogues.Tamaku

  
  

• Who is the cause of Raila’s headache?

  Posted: June 30, 2010, 12:58 pm by Tamaku

  When I heard news that the Prime Minister was in hospital for a minor operation to relieve pressure outside his brain which we are told was causing him headaches, I thought please let everything turn out ok because there’s nothing routine about that part of the body. I’m glad to hear he’s doing fine after the drive-by scalping (hey, I'm not a doctor) because excess pressure like a fart is better out than in.
  
  I’m a long time Raila fan. I used to like his fiery politics of 'socialism' when he was in Opposition but even now that he’s in the billionaire’s club he still retains a certain magnetism and has charisma in truckloads. I mean which other of our politicians could make a hospital gown and hideous cap look alluring?
  
  I wish him a speedy recovery, there’s work to be done. xx xxTamaku

  
  

• Sobering times for BP and UK

  Posted: June 28, 2010, 3:42 am by Tamaku

  
  Hint - for many years branding and PR used to be my bread and butter (I'm sorry).  Ridiculously, the global village today still finds itself even more driven by spin and posture. That’s why my observation of multi-billion BP’s handling of the Gulf Coast oil spill is so difficult to swallow.  Without a doubt, ‘Tony Hayward-I’d-Like-My-Life-Back,’ the public face of BP, was a huge PR blunder. Never go before a critical world media looking like you’ve still got a hallmarked silver-spoon lodged deep like a thick one between your oesophagus. Whichever way you look at it , unless  you are  Oprah Winfrey, you will surely get roasted because envy makes lesser men feel better about themselves.  Add to that, an unfortunate tan that looks like the guy was fished out of a barrel of sweet crude before being hosed down in duckling urine and paraded to defend the indefensible. There’s now premature talk of BP staring down the abyss of corporate oblivion but it’s the same talk that you hear from Western powers about Kabuga frolicking in a Nairobi suburb getting his grey hairs dyed to fool bounty hunters. However another lesson that I’ve learned is that it’ll never be clever to go against the grain unless you are one paunchy Diego Maradona tickling Tevez’s balls with a gouty-toe in a jacuzzi.  Which gets me to a crucial question: how much of the frothy stuff including Scotch whisky does one of our deputy prime minsters imbibe? Eish, really, can someone please tell him to go easy on the cause of life’s many problems.....Tamaku

  
  

• Baby Matthew has arrived

  Posted: June 26, 2010, 12:50 am by Tamaku

  Hello people, a lot has happened lately. I haven’t just been lazy and absent from the blog without good reason nor have I been away in Uganda to see mountain gorillas although that’s one of my Top Ten Things To Do Before I Die. Recently I changed the look just to give the blog a brighter look. I hope you tell me that you likey likey. My friend Sheila had her first baby two Mondays ago, a boy who premiered in at a whopping 5 kilos. I applaud Sheila who like many other women decided to keep the baby even when it’s father did a Houdini the second she announced the pregnancy. Long story for another day. When I arrived late in the evening at the hospital  I found the actual  drama was already underway and the smiling Kenyan nazi at reception said I was not allowed in to see my friend. So I spent a chilly night at a nearby hotel till the next the morning.  George was on the phone to me until I fell asleep because he knows just how attached I am to my pal. Well, I can’t even start to tell you  just how overwhelming it was to meet my latest godson, something powerful and heart-warming tugged deep inside me that I actually shed tears. 
  When I spoke to a sleepy Sheila I asked her whether childbirth had been as painful as having a battalion of safari ants chewing away at her privates. She bit hard on her lower lip slowly shaking her head: ‘Tamaku?’
  I said, ‘Yes?’
  She continued: ‘You know the pain you feel when you shit a fat del monte pineapple from Thika?’ My eyes watered as I nodded because I could imagine it was no walk in the park.  ‘Yes Sheila, I can appreciate that…’
  She laughed wryly and cut me short: ‘No Tam. I’ve got news for you and all the men out there. You need to imagine having that whole pineapple shoved up back inside you and then yanked out. Times 100. Hehe, giving birth is no joke but looking at my son now I can say it has all been worth it.’
  I went silent  and started sweating just thinking about the generosity of all the women across the world who choose motherhood. On behalf of all men folk let me say we will never be able to repay you, thank you so much mums.
  A day later I got Sheila and beautiful baby Matthew back home and I’ve been spending a lot of enjoyable time at their flat. The other day when Sheila was breastfeeding her son she said to me I never thought that one day I’d be showing you my boobs Tamaku, and thanks so much for being here for us both. I smiled and said it’s the least that I should do and don’t worry about the nipples that Matt is sucking on because if all people  felt at ease with themselves and didn't  bother to cover their dolly partons then the global economic downturn would never have happened. It's the simple things that give joy.
  Happy days indeed, even the endless changing of diapers and getting baby sick down inside my shirt when I burp him over my shoulder. This is bliss. Tamaku

  
  

• Even the wildlife here is homophobic (twisted version)

  Posted: June 6, 2010, 3:40 am by Tamaku

  The sad news of the lion attack at Chipangali this week reminded me of our own camping trip at a game reserve a few months ago. We had to go au naturel under our shorts for three sweaty days but looking as camp as a row of tents (sorry) because Imelda ‘forgot’ to pack us extra underwear. When I grilled her later (over hot coals, lol, just kidding) she said she did it for a laugh. My friends, you can only imagine the pain when you get a scrotum-pube pulled because it got stuck to your shorts which have wedged themselves into a crevice in a hot car seat and then you move suddenly. On account of that I said to Imelda, when she confessed, how would she like it if I ’forgot’ to pay her salary so I don’t think she’ll be repeating that in a hurry. Anyway George and I shared this small two-man tent (very cosy), it was exciting camping outdoors even though the shared toilets and showers were in a separate block, nothing ritzy like this, just clean and functional.
  
  We went with a lesbian couple named Maria and Andrea - Andy for short, but it’s Maria who runs that roost judging from her flat chest, half-inch sides and back and the absence of make-up not even a speck of mascara but I could be wrong. I let Maria sit in front, her full arm which was sporting beaded bangles draped on the door with George driving my car while Andy and I rode bitch-style on the back seats. We’d met the couple on our travels last year and when they came to Kenya to visit their families they decided to take a short break with us. Kenya Tourism Board, what have you done for me lately, I think you need to start paying me commission for all this work I’m doing. We recently discovered what a useful ploy it is for Kenyan gay men to double date with lesbians because you can fool many a homophobic hotelier who will then rush to welcome a pedophile sex tourist and a poor kiddie in tow with open arms.
  
  The first night after dinner, around the open fire-pit and many drinks later (yep, our money’s worth), everyone was ready for their sleeping bag or whatever. Andy and Maria announced that it would be a good idea to sleep outside their tent, for a taste of the real heartbeat of Afrika. They wanted to sleep outside at night in the middle of a game reserve. You know, just like Adam who was not made for Steve (yawn) used to with Eve. Oh yeah? Really? It’s also in the Bible that "Neither shall a garment mingled of linen and woolen come upon thee." - Leviticus 19:19, so all ‘Christians’ need to check the labels on all their clothes.
  
  I said to Andy and Maria I don't think it’s such a clever idea because I heard a story of a tourist years ago who was sleeping under the stars outside his tent in a game reserve here. Spotted hyenas attacked him in the middle of the night ripping his whole face off. Can you imagine the two seconds when he woke up to find himself looking inside a slavering mouth? I shudder to think, but it’s a second unflattering definition for giving head. Not lol.
  
  Before we all went to our tents I joked that perhaps we should all feel very safe because no self-respecting hyena would be seen dead with a lesbian thigh or gay buttock in it’s jaws. It’s considered taboo and too unAfrican.
  
  Tamaku

  
  

• ‘Safaricum’ spurts out the good stuff

  Posted: May 28, 2010, 3:03 am by Tamaku

  Thank you Michael Joseph and staff -MJ, how about a moonwalk at the next AGM? - for guiding Safaricom to spectacular profits and an improved divi yield in a challenging environment. I’ve been waiting for the results ever since that evening when I realised just how expensive your network is for browsing gay porn on my netbook as I waited for George sitting in the carpark at Fogo Gaucho. I try not to be too antisocial so I didn’t jump on the restaurant’s wifi and gobble up their bandwith. A couple of times you’ve even left me hanging just when I was starting to enjoy taking matters into my own hands. So I hope you’ll appreciate this picture - your modem which beams to me those delightful filims, and a representation of the proverbial cash cow (here modeled by George’s piggy bank).
  My patience has paid off - as they say it’s been good business doing pleasure with you. Which reminds me, I heard an analyst on the telly the other night speaking with a corrupted American twang advising that Safaricum is an accumulate and hold for generous medium term gains.
  That’s music to some ears.
  Tamaku

  
  

• Even Charles Darwin can’t explain Quincy Timberlake

  Posted: May 23, 2010, 1:30 am by Tamaku

  People, I really feel your confusion having to watch this trio once again hogging our airwaves. Many men have written, words inked in email-tears of anguish, to tell me they are in Esther-shock but I pleaded with them please don’t chop off your dicks because this is not a new phenomenon. The pain of disappointment does subside once you start dating other men as it happened to me years ago when I heard the news that Whitney was marrying Bobby.
  
  I’ve also been really struggling to understand this Quincy Timberlake. Presidential aspirant Hellon seems harmless enough, in fact I think he’s been over metrosexualised. Just check out those long manicured surgeon’s fingers and the delicate baby curls, aaww, how sweet. Just what we want in a president because that’s how you can tell the country will be in good hands. As for Esther, well you can’t say she doesn’t look like she’s getting it good and regular from hubby Quincy also known as Zuma Wambita. I mean just because his brain isn’t working properly doesn’t mean his slim shady won’t stand up and do a real job. You can bet there’s a lot of nightly babbling wooowiii, wooowiii out of Mrs Timberlake, it’s written on her face the way her fringe is flourishing, and everyone knows it in their heart of hearts that she must be on to some seriously good zuma wam-beating it. So let’s just put jealousy to one side.
  
  But Quincy as a person? He’s such a closed book perhaps because he‘s never opened one. And it’s painfully frustrating when he uses that language that only he speaks so fluently. I’ve tried my best to find a human who’ll teach me but to no avail. George is urging patience, he says come 2012 when the trio are in Statehouse, by a landslide, we’ll all get lessons because they’ll ask us over for sleepovers. We await in a state of anticipitalitis.
  
  Tamaku

  
  

• Mwangi delivers the goods (at least 250 gms) - final part

  Posted: May 23, 2010, 10:16 pm by Tamaku

  Continued from here:
  
  Mwangi went up the ladders which I held up against the wall for him so that I could get a glimpse of his undercarriage, only out of curiosity as any good homosexual can attest. I did this innocently the way women steal glances at other hotter women at the beach even when they aren’t lesbian. But if you get caught loitering at the bottom of staircases acting suspiciously don’t quote me. From my furtive, drooling inspection I could tell he was packing at least a quarter kilo of raw sausage and a pair of nuts encased in a loose scrotal dolly bag. I then pretended to go back to my book but the jumbled words did not make sense although I trusted myself enough to know I would never succumb to a temptation which might jeopardise what I have with George. Mwangi was up and down a few times during which he was getting more sweaty and appetising like a mutura on a hot charcoal grill.
  
  He then mixed some concrete and disappeared up on the roof for close to two hours during which time my ardour dampened, George came back from his shopping trip and Imelda started the dinner. When Mwangi started descending to announce he had the leak finally fixed, George was waiting expectantly because I’d told him there was an angel above. His eyes popped as I started to introduce them and George exclaimed to Mwangi imagine meeting you in our house and how have you been!! Yes, I stood in shock as they greeted each other like old friends. Apparently George knew Mwangi from when he used to go on Nairobi’s disjointed and unrewarding gay scene before he met me. What a small world it really is and phew thank heavens I didn’t try anything. I said thanks for fixing the leak and I’m confident it’s been a good repair. Mwangi said don’t worry if anything should go wrong he would be back at no extra cost. Then George came up with the idea that Mwangi should get showered and changed and join us for drinks and dinner, they needed to catch up. Mwangi didn’t need much convincing, so he went to the bathroom as we waited for a certain dinner guest.
  
  You remember when I told you about my friend who was looking for a lover, specifically one with a bbc? Well, Ken was coming to dinner that night, he still hadn’t had much success with bagging himself a boyfriend but I tell you when he clapped his eyes on Mwangi who was all scrubbed up looking like a torero ready to slay a bull and seated to my left at the table, sparks flew like an exhaust pipe scrapping on tarmac. They were all over each other like a rash on a baby’s bottom from cot crap. That night, much later, Ken and Mwangi left together and I felt that they had both found what it is many people are searching for. Since then Mwangi has also been on the phone to George thrice just to say how happy they both are. We wish them well for the future.Tamaku

  
  

• My fellow Kenyans, why do you love to hurt with your words?

  Posted: May 20, 2010, 2:46 pm by Tamaku

  Recently the LGBIT community held a soiree at the National Museum to commemorate International Day Against Homophobia(IDAHO). The irony of this is that our local media is now frothing even more vile homophobia.
  
  The Bible-thumping brigade, that had slept through a man slaughtering his five year old son, suddenly woke up claiming to be the Anointed Ones whose names are even written in the tablets of Moses. They thundered: ‘Homos, we-who-sin-not, have been sent from the Temple of Righteousness to supervise what you do in your bedrooms.’
  
  Their faces were twisted in hatred and burning with a lust for violence. They all cried ah-men, ah-men when I shut the door and refused to let them in because I am an adult and it‘s no one‘s business whom I choose to love. They left a message to say they would be back later to inspect the sheets.
  
  Many of these Kenyans were writing from Western capitals, where they are sojourned, over a delicious vente Mocha with one shot, iced, caramel sauce on the top and bottom, no whip, light on the ice, and 7 pumps of peppermint syrup about how more African they are and how they would fight tooth and nail until there were no more gay people left in Kenya.
  
  I smiled when I heard this and just went back to my game of scrabble with Imelda because I remembered we had all been down this road before. Much ado about nothing.Tamaku

  
  

• Mwangi delivers the goods (at least 250 gms)

  Posted: May 17, 2010, 1:24 am by Tamaku

  Let me tell you how we got sprinkled with magic last week. As I said earlier we had a leak up in the roof which was pouring a small but steady stream of water into all the buckets we could find. First guy up there was a bogus builder sent by a best friend (MICHAEL!!) who took two days and a fistful of shillings later announced he had the leak plugged. There had only been a pause in the torrential rains pounding these parts so of course that fix unraveled after he’d left. I got on the phone and spoke to Rasta, who is mummy’s trusted fixer and he said he’d send a very good fundi called Mwangi or Mwange, I didn’t catch the name initially, the next day. I said please send him without fail before upstairs turns into an indoor pond. As he hang up he added oddly in Kiswahili, utampenda sana (loosely translates to mean you’ll like him but I suspect he also wanted it to mean you’ll love him). Mmmm. Game on.
  
  The next day when George was away in the afternoon picking up a leg of pork from the butchers, the guard from KK guards brought dairy milk chocolate- brown complexioned Mwangi to the veranda where I was re-reading again that book about great courage and heroism called Barefoot Soldier. I put the book down and Mwangi shook my hand as I instinctively checked him out. I saw right away that here was a very handsome man with a friendly confident face standing before me in a faded lumberjack shirt and black jeans clinching a physique full of delightful promise and he had the whitest smile as if he regularly used close up menthol chilli toothpaste. Imelda fetched him a mug of tea as I explained what the problem was. He said he’d been very busy fixing roofs around our area due to their flattish designs which don’t allow water to run off quickly enough. And I can tell you that the deluge which has drenched this land is something close to epic; I just hope that people are storing all this water. I watched Mwangi speak with his eyes dancing and a tantalizing tongue-tip darting the corners of his dark lips. I was thinking to myself where have they been hiding you from me…
  
  I recovered my composure enough to ask Mwangi to come with me upstairs so he could see where the water was gushing through. I led the way and I could sense behind me he was taking in the nude art that I once bought from this gallery which lines up our stairs. When we got to the room there was so much tension between us and my gaydar was starting to beep beep beep, you know when you are being studied on so many levels - sexual, emotional, even nutritional potential (hehehe, bj, slurp, slurp) - then he said he was going up on the roof. He started to take off his shirt to change into his work overalls, so I excused myself and left the room with the door ajar before I could pass out and it would be Houston we have a problem. I waited in the corridor as he got changed where I accidentally voyeured a reflection of his magnificence on the cheval mirror. Meaty chest. Juicy ass. Succulent thighs. Fingerlicking delicious chicken. Luckily I got out of the way quickly before he caught me.
  
  To be continued….Tamaku

  
  

• Love (Feel no shame, come get some)

  Posted: May 17, 2010, 2:18 am by Tamaku

  Hello World! I knew there were so many ways to be in love even before I posted this dedication to the wonderful Lindsay. However that's not even the half of it. Truth is there’s enough love to go around if only we all open up our hearts but I don’t mean you should all become raving homos. Allow me to take very good care of that perversion. Years ago I was introduced to Anita Baker's music by ex-girlfriends who still remain much cherished friends. Mwaah, hey to you fabulous LO and MM, you know who you both are. Time for some more confessions - yes, I had many wonderful and beautiful girlfriends in the past - way before I acknowledged my persistent and explicit homosexuality . So, as you can see there’s enough deep and nondiscriminatory love to go all round. I hope you enjoy the vid, and have a great week ahead. Tomorrow I plan to tell all about what happened when a very hot and handsome repairman came to our house last week. xxx xxxx
  
  Tamaku

  
  

• When sleeping together is not about making any babies (with some extra sugar)

  Posted: May 13, 2010, 1:34 am by Tamaku

  Someone wrote to ask me how two men can sleep intimately together. So I thought I’d share with you on our favorite sleeping position on those evenings when we are not doing it.
  
  George likes to lie on his right side (facing away, I used to wonder why because he hasn’t got even a hint of halitosis and neither have I). I half-scoop him with my right forearm from behind, sort of midway up his back to clasp his left shoulder. I can only describe it like how a man places his arm on a woman’s back whilst leading in a ballroom dance but without stepping on delicate toes. Because George leans back to lie on this arm I usually wake up in the morning with that member partially numbed. I then slide my left arm under George’s, across his ribcage - like a pretend one-armed sideways Heimlich manoeuvre because he’s pulling me to him - to place my hand on the inside of his right shoulder where his stubbled-jaw rests for the night. Aaaahh, we sleep so closely together you wouldn’t get a bed bug in between but if there are any they can gladly have the other two-thirds of the mattress space.
  
  Falling asleep like this we both feel equally contented and safe, purring through moonlit, twinkling Nairobi starry nights as the curtains are caressed by the fragrant air, whispers of moisture from our flooded garden. Thank you dear God for all the rain you've sent us. We lie in this lovers’ embrace, dreaming of a distant fairyland where gay cherub angels, gently strumming harp-strings to Michael Bolton's How Am I Supposed to Live Without You, float softly away on carpets of fluffy clouds to eternal paradise. (I know, I think I might have over-sugared it just a tiny bit but I'm seriously all loved-up at the moment, lol. Sorry there are no naughty pictures).Tamaku

  
  

• For a favorite girl called Lindsay

  Posted: May 9, 2010, 5:56 am by Tamaku

  Tamaku

  
  

• Sorry to have kept you waiting, I’ve been very busy making love

  Posted: May 6, 2010, 3:23 am by Tamaku

  Time has flown by while Foreign Affairs Minister Wetangula and his posse of civil service mandarins were delicately finding the right tricks to cajole - successfully by the way, yippeee! - Dubai, to rescind that country’s earlier unfair visa rule for Kenyans. But at what cost still remains to be seen. When will people get it that Earth and all in it even Emirs are just God’s chattels? Meanwhile George and I seem to have discovered our second wind on this magical journey through life together. Our love and commitment to one another just gets stronger by the day, if the lust we’ve got for each other is something to go by. George has been with me at home on a week’s leave from work.
  
  I hope that last sentence explains the silence on my part for the past week or so. You see, we’ve been at it constantly - sometimes thrice a day, delightfully ignoring that archaic Kenyan law which says gay sex is "carnal knowledge against the order of nature." So if you’ve spotted a middle-aged-without-the-spread, bespectacled and goateed male of suspect androgynous appearance, shaking it (many accuse me of being a Sugar-Daddy) and a younger, athletic dish of a stud with a Maasai Moran’s fluid spring to his step (would be George, wrongly fingered as the Toy Boy) wandering through a Village Market in the afternoons and you thought jealously to yourself, that pair is wearing a dazed-look of sexual satiation on the face like the pussycat that got the cream, you know what, you wouldn’t be too far off the mark…..heheheheee..Tamaku

  
  

• Report on 'kamikaze' pilots raises more questions for Kenya Airways

  Posted: April 29, 2010, 1:01 am by Tamaku

  The eagerly awaited report released yesterday into the cause of the crash of Kenya Airways flight KQ 507 in Cameroon on 05/05/07 when 114 people lost their lives confirms nagging suspicions that pilot error was to blame. Premature, unhelpful and unsubstantiated leaks blaming the weather and exonerating the pilots have now been found to be false. The report is a devastating indictment of 'inadequate operational control, lack of crew coordination, coupled with the non-adherence to procedures of flight monitoring, confusion...' While not apportioning blame, I think the airline should do itself a big favour and hold some key people from the top tier accountable. It would be unwise to understate the importance of public perception in any business.
  
  For a while now there has been much buzz which refuses to go away pointing to effects of that insidious Kenyan culture of binge-drinking having seeped into some cockpits although that did not play a part in this event. The right questions will now have to be asked about the transparency of recruitment, issues dealing with staff welfare, development and reward. I still can't get my head around the fact that this aircraft took off into a storm without receiving proper clearance from Air Traffic Control while crews of Cameroon Airways and Royal Air Maroc chose to wait for weather conditions to improve.
  
  KQ management needs to appreciate that a majority of their Kenyan customers choose to use its services due to an unwavering sense of patriotism. However you should now expect us to rightly hold up aspects of your company's safety record to much harsher and tighter scrutiny. Remember also that continued custom will be bonded by an implicit condition that passengers are routinely entrusted to disciplined and capable hands.
  
  Kenya Airways, if you are listening, mercifully you got another chance and you still retain most of our trust but we want assurance that our faith is not misplaced, that lessons have been learned. Without doubt this trust should not be broken again even as you work harder to repay our loyalty and shareholder investment.
  
  Allow me to share with you again, Femi Kuti's 97 (it tugs at the heartstrings, please listen)- in memory of KQ507.
  
  
  Femi Kuti - 97 - Live Africa Shrine
  Uploaded by piRjtull. - See the latest featured music videos.Tamaku

  
  

• Dubai’s deep love for Kenyans revealed in new visa ruling

  Posted: April 25, 2010, 11:49 pm by Tamaku

  The news that Kenyans wishing to set foot in Dubai will need to possess a minimum of a Bachelors degree (no diplomas, please) has caused great concern to many who travel there, especially on business. It seems an overreaction for the UAE government to subject Kenyans to this collective punishment just because four of their ‘royal’ nationals were recently booted out of Kenya.
  
  Earlier this afternoon it struck me that perhaps these new rules should not be seen as an act of aggression. I’ve concluded that the rulers of Dubai are only acting out of deep love for Kenyans and with our welfare utmost in mind. The Emirati are so concerned that we are clogging up our roads with their cheap second hand cars to the detriment of our own motor industry. Most of these cars have almost had it by the time they get here, damaging the unspoilt Kenyan landscape and blackening our blue skies. Our Arab friends also hate to see hardworking and enterprising young Kenyans wasting their lives away slogging for them as overworked domestic servants and in their hospitality industry. The logic is that they know how much Kenyans are drawn to bright lights and tall glass buildings so they’re saying, go get yourself a university degree and then we’ll let you come to our country. On their part the Kenyan government should get cracking and create lots of jobs so that the degreeless do not have to travel to this Gulf State chasing menial jobs just to survive.
  
  Meanwhile, Kenya’s Foreign Minister has been dispatched in sackcloth to go wash the feet of the besandalled royalty. We are told that while he’s there he will also attempt to ‘clear up this misunderstanding’ which is diplomatic-speak for I can’t believe these c**ts are behaving in such a childish way.
  
  So try and remember that the Emirati really do love us Kenyans, some of them just have a different way of showing this love. Take for example how one of their royals was captured torturing a man - including feeding him sand - in the video below. Given this overwhelming evidence, of course justice was duly served. Lovely country, can't wait to get back - now, where did I put that degree certificate?
  
  

  
  

• Smelling roses as we wait for ash hole

  Posted: April 21, 2010, 2:17 am by Tamaku

  That volcano in Iceland continues to have a worrying impact on travellers and a bitter knock-on effect in many places. So much waste in a few short days, mountains of our beautiful flowers and fresh produce not able to reach overseas markets.
  
  Could this be Nature’s way of saying enough of your emissions? Well, until those clouds of ash give way for a hole big enough for planes to fly safely through, perhaps we should all locally do our bit and buy more flowers for one another to try and mitigate some of these losses.

  
  

• Thou shall not covet another man’s boyfriend

  Posted: April 17, 2010, 11:00 pm by Tamaku

  I’ve been busy with roof repairs at our house I almost forgot that I promised to tell you about that trip to London just after Easter. Lately I seem to be racking up more airmiles than a high class sharmuta. Which also reminds me of what an old friend told me once: everyone is available at a price but they also need to be ready to pay the cost. I travelled on KQ which was much improved from last time. The service in club was good and this time the video worked which is reassuring when sleeping 10 kilometres over Western Sudan. Just one question for Mr Naikuni (CEO KQ): Sir, why bother to wheel out that cumbersome relic known as the duty-free trolley when flying to the Mecca of shopping? Think of the savings in operational costs (staff, fuel). Anyway, by the time I arrived in Heathrow I was very ready for business, so well done Pride of Africa - I give you 9 and a half out of 10 like our trip last year, flat-bed is the way to go. At this point let me also confess that I’m a hapless shareholder having bought in at 120, and now it’s around 58 shillings - there’s a really looonng way to go.
  
  I was meeting that same friend stroke client from February, who together with others are keen to plant some root-of-all-evil into East Africa. This time I stayed in a superb hotel not far from Park Lane all paid for. Someone obviously thinks I know what I’m talking about. I never tire to preach that investors are like birds, they’ll flock to a tranquil park and even eat from your hand but they may never return if the guy sitting on the bench next to you makes a sudden noise like sneezing or sharpening a panga. So I was pleading with my audience over two days that you won’t go wrong with my country but I was also mixing it with bad cop saying this might be your only chance, others are waiting in the wings to take positions in the final frontier. In our last meeting I felt like Goldilocks when she woke up to find the three bears staring at her because I could sense I had whetted their appetites enough. Fingers crossed, there’ll soon be enough porridge for more people.
  
  My host Sanchez invited me to his place on the afternoon of my last full day. He lives alone in an old restored farmhouse in Speen, a place I‘ve been many times before when he and I used to be lovers back in the day. That's when I still had bounce. I‘ve already told George all about this so don‘t give that look, hehehehe. This time I knew I had to be careful because Sanchez had been emailing me before I arrived about how it would be nice to be together again for old times sake. Purleez, - but not in a bitchy way - I‘ve moved on. We had a simple meal of lightly grilled salmon steaks with sautéed potatoes and rocket salad dressed with honey and mustard. Afterwards we sat out on the patio sipping some pinkish wine and talking. It was such a glorious early evening with the sun going down the magnificent views of the Buckinghamshire countryside (see pic of nearby fields). That‘s when Sanchez leans to me as if to kiss me on the lips, I drew back quickly and said we can’t do that any more because I‘m with someone else who’s very special to me now. He looked a little hurt but he took it like a gentleman and we didn’t talk about it again. By the way I wasn’t turned on, not even a spark or a twitch down there. I think George has put a kamuti on my muti (a spell on my stick), lol!
  
  
  
  So I passed that test even though I was slightly tipsy. I was counting how many hours before I see and touch George again. Sanchez called me a cab to take me back to my hotel which must have cost a small fortune. He’s a great guy and we had a wonderful time when we were together but that’s all in the past. I want us to remain friends who do business just as we are now. Next morning I went walking along Park Lane and took this piccy of Hyde Park, but you need to be careful what you photograph in London nowadays or you could be arrested. I also saw a blinged golden mini in a car dealers which reminded me of the false idol in the Ten Commandments that I watched when I was a boy at the Odeon cinema in Nairobi.
  
  
  
  Then I came back to Nairobi, to the boyfriend with all my codes, Imelda’s cooking and companionship, and a leak in the upstairs guestroom.

  
  

• Shopping list

  Posted: April 14, 2010, 1:37 pm by Tamaku

  A couple of weeks ago George and I were in a busy chemist waiting to pay for some shampoo and deodorant when I suddenly said to him in my best imitation loud camp voice, ‘Hey Gee sweerie, don’t forget the KY jelly and condoms!.’ I'm a Scorpio so I do like some danger.
  
  There was pin-drop silence around us and you should have seen the look on George’s face, hehehe. I know he’s going to get his own back soon. I guess it wasn’t helped that I was in my about-town ‘mode magazine’ gear of cropped three-quarter Levi Indigo jeans showing some skin and navel hairs, and a tight carrot-orange top. I knew I was looking hot prancing around like a peahen from the I'm In Miami Trick video. Helloooo....lmfao...
  
  George told me later that he could see the twinkle in my eye through the shades. Thing is everyone around us recovered quickly and just pretended as if we weren’t even there which was nice. Only the cashier looked bemused when I took the wrapped condoms and lube from him (never Vaseline, boys - remember we've had this discussion before), leaving George to pay.
  
  Maybe next time I’ll be acting all coy and ask the shop assistant to recommend a condom brand for, how shall I put it, our kind of action.
  
  I said maybe.

  
  

• My life with George

  Posted: April 13, 2010, 6:02 pm by Tamaku

  People write to ask what it's like to be gay and in love with a man
  who loves you back.

  All I can say is, it's like if you had the keys to the world's most
  exclusive mall and you could have anything that your heart desired.
  From the finest clothes to the most luxurious and smoothest
  chocolates...ANYTHING all yours.

  That's how George makes me feel, every day. I'm so lucky.

  
  

• Gay man’s biological clock

  Posted: April 12, 2010, 10:44 am by Tamaku

  Last time we identified the first words made by a gay baby. Now I’ve found out that the sound of a gay man’s biological clock dicking ticking is dick, dock…lol!
  
  Have a lovely week folks. I was away in London (yeah, again) last week, just got back on Saturday. Mini post coming soon…

  
  

• World’s first rotating roundabouts to end Nairobi traffic jams

  Posted: April 11, 2010, 11:05 pm by Tamaku

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  An engineer friend tells me that the Chinese who are building our roads are going to install cutting edge solar-powered turntable roundabouts designed to end Nairobi’s chronic jams. Basically it works by cars driving onto a stationary roundabout which at the flick of a switch rotates your car smoothly in a clockwise direction. You then drive off at your exit when it stops rotating. Yawn.

  I also didn’t believe Sam when he told me this especially as it was while we were enjoying some alcoholic drinks. But you never know, after all we’ve seen electric poles in the middle of roads....

  
  

• Our father who hurt in heaven (Easter Special)

  Posted: April 4, 2010, 9:33 pm by Tamaku

  As I watched the news on the latest abuse scandals engulfing the Catholic Church, I was reminded of an incident I witnessed years ago involving a priest from that boarding school where I also learned how to conceal a weapon. Father John D’anonimasi lived in a flat attached to our boarding house and it was the duty of students to clean his flat on Sunday mornings before Mass because we were constantly getting told that the path of duty was the way to glory (just a ploy to exploit children if you ask me now)
  
  One dewy morning when my turn came and being the keen prayerful lad that I was, I found myself about half an hour early trotting along to Father’s flat. When I got to the door I knocked softly and then noticed that it wasn’t completely shut. I didn’t think anything of it as I let myself quietly in. That’s when I saw the sight that refuses to leave me even now two decades later. Through a mirror in the hallway I spied Father John – who would be saying Mass in just over an hour’s time – standing buck naked, hairy back to me and facing the window with a wtf-is-that-up-his-arse? He was driving the blue marker pen that we used to write announcements on the house noticeboard eewww up and down where it’s dark because the sun never shines aka da butt. And his man boobies had some metallic clamps on the nips weighing them down ouch, ouch but I hear that it’s more about pleasure than pain, hahaha. All I could think of was that must hurt like hell especially the sharp bits of the marker but he was making sounds like he was in heaven already. I froze momentarily and then tiptoed out of there but not before I also snapped an eyeful of balls projected on the wall as shadows the size of large oranges. He hadn’t seen me and to be fair it wasn’t as if I’d caught him perming his eyelashes but I still think the Church needs to revisit the issue of celibacy and whether it’s even relevant.
  
  Now sit back, get the popcorn, keep the tissues close at hand and let’s wait to see what outlandish story Denis shares with us about three nuns, a monk and a strap-on. By the way Denis also has a column here.
  
  Please forgive me father for sometimes I know not what I do when I blog.....Happy Easter folks.
  
  
  
  (Pic is of a marker pen that I use on my whiteboard, NOWHERE ELSE ok, lol)

  
  

• Livin' La Vida Loca

  Posted: March 30, 2010, 6:03 pm by Tamaku

  Ricky Martin, father of two, coming out gay has not been a surprise to
  many. Come on you'd have to have had your gaydar disabled not to have
  known it, if Shake Your Bon Bon still hadn't given the game away...

  
  

• Do Kenyan robots deserve any human rights?

  Posted: March 29, 2010, 2:18 am by Tamaku

  Not to tar everyone with the same brush but Kenyan society is fast reaping the abundant fruits of a mainstream education system that spits out legion after legion incapable of blending ideals and rhetoric into reality. It’s fair to say that we have a significant walking-mass wounded by rote learning. These puppets by the time they are in early adulthood are ripened for a life of manipulation, to be controlled and guaranteed to operate with clockwork predictability even as they quench their thirst for 'knowledge'. I’ve come across so many of them festooned with MBAs and PHDs in my working and social life, so sad because they knew their stuff well and were very good at what they did but when you really looked in their eyes the passion and fire in them was gone and had been replaced by glassy currency signs. I watched in amazement as they looked the other way while government continued to ignore its gay citizens.
  
  We went calling on those among us who could wield their influence because we had heard them say how much they understood and embraced the spirit of Universal Human rights and fairness, especially those who preached thy neighbour’s love. But we found them already in bed with the oppressor making furious creaky merriment in the same unoriginal fashion. Hanging on the door-knob was a do-not-disturb sign in the familiar fonts of the previously trusted message bearers inked in the warm blood and tears of the hunted. That’s when it dawned on me that you can’t entrust an honest debate on important issues to these robots. They never truly believed in anything worth defending but only went through the motions sleepwalking in complex angles while foraging for shiny tokens to pin onto their rusting armour. Their self-interests had made them blind to ethical dimensions.
  
  I think I’d have more respect for them if they just stopped pretending to defend any human rights.

  
  

• Senses

  Posted: March 23, 2010, 6:17 pm by Tamaku

  I took this picture in the garden one morning last week. Lately I like
  my tea black with one sugar, though I've been asking Imelda to make it
  for me white without milk. She's a clever one and always gets it right
  but I don't think she's really listening how I say it...

  So this pic - it's of beautiful bougainvillea flowers growing along
  the fence. If you look closely you'll also see the butterfly that I
  was very surprised to notice after I'd taken the picture...

  
  

• Paper Scissors Rock

  Posted: March 20, 2010, 2:08 am by Tamaku

  Hey, we haven't had a vid in a while. I was watching this one today and sensing some homoeroticism, what do you guys think?
  
  

  
  

• My untamed youth

  Posted: March 19, 2010, 9:52 am by Tamaku

  I took this shot of downtown Nairobi on my way from a friend’s office on Commerce House 5th floor, Moi Avenue. That’s the building that housed Florida 2000 nightclub, that wonderful den of iniquity. Actually last time I was in F2, Flonje as a true aficionado calls it, was at least 18 years ago. But as you can see this time I was in the vicinity during the day, mid-afternoon to be exact.
  
  Years and years ago when I was a still a chicken (14-16 years old) I was a regular fixture at the nightclub even during school nights ogling at the dancers (male and female, all amazing) and their super-toned bodies. Those were the days frittering away my parents’ cash (money that I could do with right now, by the way) cavorting with hookers, drinking beer and eating pilau with kachumbari downstairs outside the ART shop with pimps, drug dealers and taxi drivers. All this while the parents, my siblings and most normal people slept away…
  
  Yes, there was a time when Nairobi was a safe place to walk at all hours, except on occasion when I encountered policemen with dogs on patrol around that dodgy zone behind KCB Kencom House as I club-hopped from F2 to Tamango (before it was called Visions) on Kimathi Street at 3 am. Always the same script wanting to arrest me on trumped-up drunk and disorderly or loitering charges unless I greased their palms with some chai or tea. I wish I'd go back to those days because I'd be carrying a flask of hot tea for such encounters . Luckily an accident of birth meant I bore my famous grandfather’s name whose mere mention I’d learned early in life could open the right doors wide and the cops normally ended up escorting me to the other club and even gave a little salute as I trotted up the steps for part 2. I guess I was a corrupt little Kenyan, just like most of the others back then, lol! I was also a bit of a brat...
  
  Back to F2 and its mock zebra-skin carpet which I understand nowadays even has a strip club next door. Some nights I’d forget myself only to crawl out of the nightclub in the morning to dazzling daylight and bustling streets. My parents usually left the house for work before we got up, so I’d just go home on the bus and sleep the booze and other substances off before getting up to go back to town to pick up my Enduro trail bike where I’d left it unchained outside F2 because I didn’t want to get myself killed riding under the influence. In fact how I passed my exams I’ll never know because my teachers often wrote in my report card, ‘shows great potential and should go far but is easily distracted’. At least I never missed a scouts overnight camping trip and I never ever went to school pissed….hahahahaa
  
  I also learned the valuable art of keeping people sweet (always smile whatever the situation and never say a bad word behind someone’s back) so the servants and siblings even covered for me. Of course I forged dad’s signature on absence letters to school and one-finger typed these out on mummy’s old manual Olivetti for authenticity. That soon unraveled through a painful ordeal which is a story for another day. Oh, the folly of youth but I was having too much fun reducing my life expectancy by at least 10 years while experimenting with more stuff than many people fit into a lifetime. I count myself very lucky to have escaped unscathed because I quickly got bored and grew up super fast and just managed to get my act together. By the time my friends from school were discovering nightclubs I had that part well and truly behind me. One of these days I might even tell you about my graduation to the massage parlour ‘phase’ with the ‘extras’, if you’re as nice as you usually are.
  
  Sorry about the pic by the way, not being top notch, it’s taken using my iphone’s measly 2 mp camera. I damaged my other camera recently when I dropped it on the bathroom floor (don’t ask) and I can’t seem to get anyone to fix it. I’m not shy, if anyone has a spare slr feel free to swing it my way and I’ll take some interesting shots just for you. Yes you big, big boy there in the tight jeans and nice butt. Eeww, that sounds so creepy.. lol!
  
  

  
  

• Smart toothbrushes

  Posted: March 18, 2010, 4:32 pm by Tamaku

  Imelda replaced the toothbrushes in our bathroom yesterday. I notice
  that she put a new pink one on my sink yet again while George got the
  blue Colgate flex. Pink for girls, blue for boys, right? Mmmmm...

  I'm a Scorpio so I do tend to over analyze things but I can't help
  myself wondering whether she now just sees me as George's bitch, lol!

  Oh well, whatever....)

  
  

• The winning formula?

  Posted: March 16, 2010, 5:13 pm by Tamaku

  I'm at home not doing much just playing a second game of scrabble with
  Imelda. She's currently wiping the floor with me, coming up with
  'subzero' on a triple word score. She's already won the first game of
  the day. Aarrrggh õ›. But now she's gone off to prepare lunch, so I've
  been naughty and just switched some of her letters. Hehehe, I've also
  had a good rummage inside the bag with the letter tiles, lol!
  Ssssshhh.....

  Imelda almost caught me red-handed when she came back unexpectedly to
  bring me a cup of Milo, I thought I was going to have a heart-attack
  but I managed to pull myself together though I couldn't look her in
  the eye.,,

  I hope you don't think I'm a bad person; but I'm feeling a little
  guilty...

  
  

• 50 ways to find a lover in Nairobi

  Posted: March 14, 2010, 11:58 pm by Tamaku

  I actually look forward to bedtimes these days and not just for what you might be thinking. We are normally in bed by 11pm with me snuggled in The Nook, that special place that George keeps warm just for me. It’s where I can hear his heart talking to my soul. I love reading in bed and I’m used to it now even while he’s watching pirate copies of CSI or Heroes or Band of Brothers. Yes, George won that battle so we still have the tv with dvd in the bedroom. Last night I wanted to watch a copy of Chokora that a friend got for me the other day but George said it’s too depressing. From what I hear it will make you very MAD. Anyway we’ll watch it with Imelda tomorrow while he’s at work. I don’t want to precipitate another bust-up. You might think that I’m a walkover but I try not to sweat the small stuff because we are both so happy now.
  
  Currently I’m enjoying reading 50 Ways to Find a Lover by Lucy-Anne Holmes. I picked up a brand new copy abandoned in the airport lounge on my recent trip to London. Which reminds me, imagine how shocked I was to discover the other day that there are websites where you can hire a lover in Nairobi for the night! Or day! Even by the hour! You can now meet real gorgeous men with mouth-wateringly ripped abs or sexy women with curves as tight as the streets of Monte-Carlo. If you like a varied diet you can even have both together. All at the click of a button and of course the slimming of your wallet. A world away from how one woman tried to get me interested not so long ago. My research shows it's even possible to arrange the rendezvous in your office boardroom for the horny but busy exec. By the way if ‘supermarket’ (self-service or taking matters into your own hands solo in the privacy of your bedroom) with lights dimmed and aromatic oils burning is more your thing, you can even pay and download local porn clips instantly, wait let me finish, and away you go come, lol! If you live in a flat just turn the volume up high, the neighbours will envy you thinking you’re such an animal. Go tiger..
  
  It’s all happening here in our supposedly deeply religious and morally righteous African country.

  
  

• A parent’s guide to the finger of god business (pg rated)

  Posted: March 10, 2010, 12:36 am by Tamaku

  Some concerned parents wrote to me when TV anchor Esther’s saga broke out. They said please Tamaku my kids are scared when they hear about Freemasons and people wanting to kill others and they’re asking difficult questions. Can you find us a way to explain what’s happening to their role model? So I obliged and embellished the story somewhat so that youngsters could understand. You can read it and dramatize it like a game for the kids at bedtime in nice Harry Porter style to get the message home:
  
  Once upon a time there was a famous and very beautiful girl from the telly. One day she decided to run away from her handsome boyfriend who had smooth and well manicured fingers to a wizard called Timberstick. When he got her to a castle in Runda he began the ancient and secret game of 4ply (here you can sing a little lullaby, 1ply, 2ply, you get the drift). Not to be confused with foreplay which all boys know is just a waste of playstation time, 4ply is a spell practiced under a moonless night to the hypnotising strains of a lone saxophonist. However when you grow up and if you don’t study hard and go to college, you will hear it mentioned in player parlance as ‘short-circuiting a babe’s cpu’. So, this is what Timberstick did with his talented guitar-calloused and blinged up one digit, which came to be known throughout the kingdom simply as da Finga. It was studded like a courgette’s skin and curved like an aubergine, lovely vegetables that you must always eat whenever mummy cooks them for you. They are excellent sources of nutrients but only when chopped and cooked. Now, when boys were still writing with pencils, the wicked wizard was already printing in colour. He was also very experienced in the art of taking off a girl's bra with only one hand. Soon the beautiful girl was frothing at the lips close to dying but not at all in a bad way. She was riding through the sky without a care like a runaway helium balloon. Higher, higher close to heaven, when she saw how bright and beautiful heaven was she cried out: ‘Woooi , OMG…. Oh My God, what is that?’ (Note to parents: feel free to adapt the cry to suit your child’s deportment, religiosity etc, but keep it real)
  
  The evil 4plyer cackled back to her, ‘That my princess is the finger of god’.
  
  And the moral of the story, children? You must tell your teacher if someone wants to put your finger in the electric pencil sharpener. Goodnight my angels, night night….
  
  (Editor’s note: We are trying to see whether Disney will make a movie)
  
  
  Moving on swiftly here is a finger joke for the adults:
  
  One day John rang his wife from the offshore rig where he worked.
  ‘Honey don't worry, I’ve had a serious injury but am ok. An accident occurred and my finger was cut OFF.....'She yelled, ‘The hole finger?’ He answered, ‘NO, NO, the one right next to it. ...’

  
  

• Tamaku does London

  Posted: March 7, 2010, 10:44 pm by Tamaku

  When a generous client, mentor, one- time compañero and sometime benefactor sends an urgent email saying I want you up in England for a couple of days, all expenses paid, you don’t say mmmm, I’m not sure what I’ve got on my diary, Sanchez – let me think about it and I’ll get back to you. This is what happened to me the other week, so I hopped on a plane and arrived to a chilly London. One thing I noticed is that more roads are now potholed (shock, horror) but nothing remotely like Nairobi roads. My tattooed cabbie Dave told me the heavy snows of the previous months have played havoc on infrastructure, but I heard as if he called it infrastuckture. Apparently this happens when water-logged newly re-carpeted surfaces expand causing cracks on roads when it freezes. You learn something new every day, not all of it useful. Also did you know that jelly beans are good for causing a bowel movement? And another thing matey, Audi A6 estates and BMW 5 series are rubbish in snow, even many 4x4’s except Land Rover Discos, naturally, will struggle but you’d expect German cars to know a thing about snow. Talking of cars, Shiko-Msa if I get you that red Toyota Solara people might start to talk, hehehe...
  
  I had two straight days of intense meetings in Bishopsgate a short walk from Liverpool Street station and went back to my 3 star hotel room in Wembley after like every nice gay businessman does. I wished I’d brought my toys to keep me entertained as I watched porno on the old lappie, hahahaha, but a few nights without never hurt anyone though it can make you cranky in the mornings. The crowded tube carriage is one of my least favourite places anywhere during rush hour but it’s a microcosm of life in one of the world’s greatest cities. Desperately gaunt druggies in sodden coats on their way to chase dragons sat next to nervous Goldman Sachs millionaire wankers bankers in chic Aquascutum vintage coats on their way to/from a rat race for humans. And the women putting on their makeup flawlessly on the tube, vulgar with a capital V like Vietnam decadence, yet so captivating. My alter ego has extremist socialist views especially when I spot subtle displays of excess leave alone ostentatious ones. To be honest with you, I think the word I’m really looking for is envy.
  
  London was like enforced rehab for me because I didn’t drink a drop except on Saturday when I allowed myself more than a little treat to compensate. Saturday evening was raining incessantly, the kind of night when I’d never go out in Nairobi so I just sat in the hotel bar which was full of confident Man Utd fans over for the match with Aston Villa on Sunday. I met travelling discordant couple Marilyn and Lee (he’s Manu while she’s a hardcore brummie Villa fan) and we polished off a bottle of Bombay Sapphire and later chased with some Disaronno, you’d think I’d have learned my lesson about mixing drinks by now. Duly ginned, we blue-toothed email addresses and they said they’d come to Nairobi later in the year but it might just have been the drink talking.
  
  The hotel where I stayed is on Empire Way (suitably named for a queen, I thought) and I had a standard room overlooking a building site, I think it’s for Wembley City. But I didn’t mind because I could see the stadium arch from my room. I took this picture on my phone on Saturday night when I walked round the back of the hotel smoking a cigarette in the drizzle and after speaking on the phone to George. Sorry but my phone doesn’t have a zoom. There was a private party in one of the function rooms at the rear and when I heard PYT blasting away I was so tempted to gatecrash but I’m so glad I didn’t even though I can still shake it. Also my return flight home was on Sunday morning and I had the taxi booked for 6.
  
  When I arrived back in Nairobi, George picked me up from the airport and I said to him hey you my PYT, I really missed your loving. He said show me how much so we went straight home to bed and just had milky cocoa and biscuits after my shower, lol, you know what we actually had. Yes, yes, it was very good...
  
  
  

  
  

• Dear DiaryIt’s been one day ...

  Posted: March 6, 2010, 3:25 pm by Tamaku

  Dear Diary
  
  It’s been one day at a time resisting this urge to mock one Esther Rungu, a hubby called Timberdick, a pastor by the name Hellon and that Finger.
  
  So far so good.
  
  I am a good person but I’m feeling weak. The temptation is so strong.
  
  Will I make it?
  

  
  

• Blog followers and the power of prayer

  Posted: March 5, 2010, 4:49 pm by Tamaku

  Hello there my luvvies and esteemed friends, we have a new follower….drum roll please....welcome to number 80^th! Group hug everybody, feel all the love and warmth that we should me sharing? Wey-hey, ho ho, this calls for a little jig on the kitchen floor with Imelda and a cold tusker down my throat (first one of the day, I hasten to add). Do you think we would be a cult if you all came to our house and you guys stayed over forever and ever just like one big happy gay family? 

  On a serious note please don't forget to pray for the flooding in Samburu to subside and for our sister the lovely Esther Arunga to wake up and smell the shit around her. How many people who love and care about her is this beautiful woman determined to hurt? Please God, please please give us a happy ending....amen.

  Oh, hold on, I've just been handed my bottle of tusker baridi (the champers of beers) and a note by Imelda – "how many people do I want to love me???" Eh? Girl knows me tooo well.  Now let me shoot some pool with her and drink some lager, that's enough work for a furahiday….. xx xx xxx

  
  
  

  
  

• Habari gani? Give us a wave

  Posted: March 4, 2010, 6:09 pm by Tamaku

  Hello, hello, just a quickie to say we're fine thanks for asking. I haven't danced the last dance yet!  I've managed to avoid falling under a moving bus and when George mixed me a drink the other day I called out to him, 'no aconite root poison for me, honey bunch sweetie pie.' I'm just snowed under with some urgent work for a demanding client at the moment. I haven't spied a white car trailing us nor have strange men in suits and dark glasses turned up at the house asking to speak to me (sigh, a fantasy).
  

  I arrived back from the UK on Sunday night unscathed. The brakes on my car work ok, and the drinking water doesn't taste any different however I was reading somewhere that you start to die the day you are born….

  That's all for now my lovely friends. I'm feeling very cheery today so just wanted to say hi and that I'll be back soon. Oh, I've also caught a mild cold but nothing serious I hope. I'm happy with life generally and, contrary to rumours spreading like Starbucks, my blogging mojo hasn't deserted me.

  
  
  

  
  

• I'm standing by you

  Posted: February 25, 2010, 2:53 am by Tamaku

  I travel alone to London tomorrow on business, thankfully just for 4 days. I understand the weather there is arctic ; Please let me share with you Carrie Underwood's cover of 'I'll Stand By You'. Especially with my Ugandan brothers and sisters in mind during their darkest hours. Back soon, because I'll miss you, God-willing...
  
  xxx
  
  

  
  

• The bill Barack Obama calls 'odious'

  Posted: February 24, 2010, 3:09 am by Tamaku

  
  
  Let's make this viral, please share.

  
  

• What George got me for Valentine’s

  Posted: February 22, 2010, 12:30 am by Tamaku

  George is a big softie. On Valentine’s Day morning after breakfast he said he had a surprise for me, so I said no honey I don’t want to go back to bed just yet. He said don’t be silly and then he blindfolded me with a kitchen towel and took me by the hand. He said I’ve got you something nice and shiny that you can drive. I asked what now, surely way too extravagant to buy me a car when I already have a perfectly good one. And you know he’s working for a security company at the moment but not G4S which keeps losing lots of cash in transit though I admit a sinister thought did cross my mind. He laughed and replied noooo darling, no, be patient. It’s not a car but it has two wheels. By now we were outside the garage, my left fingers reaching out to feel the way ahead. I was so excited and giggling like a teenage girl because I was thinking could it be a brand new motorcycle like my friend’s Mike that I was riding in December? I’m not too materialistic but I don’t mind beautiful possessions.
  
  When the garage doors opened, I ripped off the blindfold and George put my prezzie in my hands, I laughed so hard when I saw it and gave him a big wet kiss. He won’t thank me for telling you this but when I looked at him next tears were streaming down his face just like our first time together. I knew he was crying for joy because I know giving makes you very happy. Here’s a photo of my prezzie, it’s a lovely toy bike made out of wire and customized for a gay Kenyan. It now has pride of place in the study. I feel just as if I got the real thing.
  
  On my part I baked George a chocolate heart-shaped cake which he’s saving for our first anniversary. I tell a teeny-weeny lie, it's actually Imelda who baked it but don’t tell him, besides he’s getting all that special loving all to himself, lol!
  
  

  
  

• Gay Kenyans will not go away

  Posted: February 21, 2010, 12:23 am by Tamaku

  Prof Makau Mutua on The Bench articulating the case for Gay Rights in Kenya. It’s a great piece - sorry about ‘drama queen’ Jeff.

  
  

• Bad Kenyan politics not good for nerves

  Posted: February 20, 2010, 7:15 pm by Tamaku

  Someone needs to tell both geriatric Prime Minister Raila and President Kibaki to stop their silly games, to put their toys away and learn to play nicely. No more smoke and mirrors please. They make me nervous with all the brinkmanship that I spend sleepless nights wondering whether we are going to wade through another frothy cesspool of mindless violence. Oh dear me, the mismanaged blame game might be exciting for some but I’d rather vote for the unbelievably tacky Esther Arunga-Joseph Hellon soap. I admit she’s got a lovely rack on her, even better than my friend Paprika has. I wonder whether the saxophonist has gotten his godly fingers and all that jazz over them. Joseph's not too bad either he just needs to lose the suit, bulk up, wear black ribbed tank-tops and stop frowning when facing the camera. Call me, I can make you very classy in time for 2012 (yes, we can!), because I branded many cow butts in my time. Ahem, erm, excuse me while I clear my throat...
  
  But I am now getting the jitters about our future here. Can you imagine by how many notches things will ratchet up when the ICC (for criminals, not the cricket one) names those it wants for masterminding Kenya’s post-election violence? I bumped into a former client who was out being walked by two untrained Jack Russells in our estate on Wednesday evening. She told me that her multinational head office have put on hold indefinitely investments earmarked this year for Kenya. Even the muscled guys who were laying the fibre-optic cable outside our street have left and no one knows when they’ll be back, so unfair.
  
  It comes as no surprise that investors are getting weary of the seesaw within what looks like a rudderless government. There’s ground swell sentiment in business circles that come 2012 political temperatures in Kenya are forecast to reach flash point bringing a freeze to any meaningful growth (if not a drastic downturn) in the economy. I don’t doubt my credible sources because I can’t see any way out unless the two principals learn to rein in amoral associates and dampen their own egos. Surely only fools keep wagging dogs and then bark themselves. I also thought, lucky you Sheryl to have such robust options on the table, it must be very comforting to know you can always jump on BA with your neurotic pooches and leave behind the potholes and the mad matatu drivers, but you’ll miss the weather and the servants though.
  
  I’ve almost lost faith in the way things have suddenly span out of control: why not let the anti-corruption commission do it’s job (yawn, don’t answer). Did I hear you say commission of inquiry to investigate? I thought not. And the police - are they too busy jailing hookers, raiding residences of suspected homosexuals, shooting pickpockets and tear-gassing innocent protesters - is detective really such a dirty word to them?
  
  We must never become inured to the rot in our public institutions. I don’t wish to be a prophet of doom and I’ll do my best to remain optimistic but at the moment all I can see are dark clouds gathering over the horizon. By the way, words of advice to Kuyu Hellon: three’s a crowd, like in this other saga, unless it’s a trio. Plan thy revenge.

  
  

• Does this pastor speak for you?

  Posted: February 19, 2010, 3:04 pm by Tamaku

  "In Africa, what you do in your bedroom affects our clan, it affects our tribe, it affects our nation," Pastor Martin Ssempa is reported to have told the BBC's Network Africa programme. 
  I guess he's a missionary man...
  
  

  
  

• Bottoms Up

  Posted: February 16, 2010, 2:39 am by Tamaku

  I find it hard to believe that it’s one year today since I started this blog. Imagine that! Doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun. So here we are over 250 posts later (ok, I agree some of them could hardly qualify as such, and all the videos I pinched from youtube along the way, hehehehe). Hey, your comments have also encouraged me on this journey.
  
  Tonight I wanted to say how much I really appreciate your great company and although I sometimes do push the boundaries you guys don’t really seem to mind too much. I’m sure you know by now that I’m never going to hurt even a fly. Therefore, good people, here’s to the next God knows how many more posts (and vids, sorry!)…chin chin everyone, bottoms up.
  
  By the way, I’ve considered putting a paypal button on this blog ‘cause I know some of you would like to buy me a drink or two, especially now that I’m unemployed, but I don’t know how to go about it. If it's any consolation I promise to kiss you all on the mouth should we meet, I'll even shut my eyes. Deal? Deal.

  
  

• Names

  Posted: February 15, 2010, 3:23 am by Tamaku

  What do you call Kenyan homophobes?
  
  Gay-nyans!

  
  

• Happy St Valentine's Day

  Posted: February 13, 2010, 11:01 pm by Tamaku

  
  
  We are just going out for dinner, George's treat. It's early but we both prefer tonight for our Valentine's Day date. Tomorrow could be trickier for a gay couple seen having an intimate dinner in this town. Not that I'm afraid or anything....
  
  Have a great time whatever you do. Love ya xxx xx

  
  

• Baby cooked in oven

  Posted: February 13, 2010, 5:38 pm by Tamaku

  Do you recall the time last year when I was broody and dreaming about being a dad? Well, after that post I received an amazing amount of emails from people (women?) who were willing to offer their help. My euphoria quickly dissipated before you could say wank, cup and turkey-baster when I realised that all those offers were shocking rent-a-womb. I haven’t come across any laws which prohibit these arrangements, though it’s a grey area fraught with legal pitfalls. Turns out these scammers were only after my money offering to bear my biological child, one even asked me to M-pesa ’commitment fees’!!! Aaargh. But the real reason why I didn’t pursue it was on my mum’s advice. She said just be patient son, someone will come along with whom you’ll fall in love and you’ll be blessed with many kids. Problem is that mummy doesn’t know I’m in love with George but he’s never liked the idea of wearing a maternity dress though he’s partial to nibbling a nipple now and again, hahahaha...
  
  Anyway in the course of my research I also discovered a place in Nairobi that offers IVF treatment. I just typed into google ‘nairobi ivf baby cooked in oven’ (as you would) and that was the top result. And I also discovered other such facilities in wonderful places like South Africa and India. I’m so excited but all I can say at this point is that I feel a whole new world of possibilities has opened up for us. Hint: Arrival of Tamaku Jnr may involve a lesbian friend.
  
  Since you are now like family, and always so nice to me (unlike some people) you can all be uncles and aunts…

  
  

• Toyota

  Posted: February 10, 2010, 11:57 pm by Tamaku

  I was up late last night thinking about all the hullabaloo surrounding safety issues and Toyota. I’m sure it’s all one conspiracy to try and resuscitate America’s auto industry, but it may backfire because the Toyota brand has already seeped deep into people’s consciousness. I love Toyota cars even though I’ve never owned one myself. If you can guess correctly what car I drive, I swear I’ll come over personally and tickle you until you cry please, please Tamaku stop but I won’t stop until you pee on yourself, lol! However I detest those models that look like freestanding wardrobes on wheels, here I’m talking about Toyota Voxy and it’s ungainly cousin Toyota Noah. Sorry but it’s very easy to confuse one of these in the hazy Nairobi traffic with a pregnant Zebu cow. Not too sexy unless you’re a farmer’s wife called Mrs Noah who’s getting ready to go on a cruise (speaking of which, does anyone know what her real name was please, I promise I won’t come and tickle you unless you want me to).
  
  My wonderful George, who is now sitting at my feet on the floor watching a good bootleg copy of City of God as I type this (oh, the irony), is like a Lexus LS460 with heated leather seats, warm and a joy to cuddle but he can make your ass sweat when he’s in the mood. I think I’d say I’m more like the 'humble’ Avensis, good thrust when needed and with a decent trunk which shuts well, lol! Which reminds me - George wrongly says I like to wield power around here. I don’t know whatever gave him that impression but I don’t mind so long as he does what he’s told. And forget all that nonsense about gays having faulty 'brakes', take it from me nothing wrong with our 'brakes' after many miles on the clock never had even one skidmark…
  
  Ok, mmmmm, now let’s see if I can pick on a couple of lovely fellow bloggers and pair them with a suitable model of Toyota: In my mind I think Shiko-Msa is like a red Toyota Solara with the top down cruising through Mama Ngina Drive on a hot afternoon, classy and interesting ;) while Rox is like a canary-yellow Toyota Supra in 17-inch gunmetal rims and tinted windows, distinctive and fun (NOT a euphemism for easy by the way, hehehehehe. Dear sweetie, Rox, darling, sugar, honey please don’t hit me). Let me stop there before I get myself in more trouble than I already am. Hahahaha…

  
  

• Straight-talking Politician

  Posted: February 10, 2010, 3:13 pm by Tamaku

  The Malawi authorities have told gay activists who put up posters and distribute leaflets on the streets anonymously to "come out in the open".

  Government official Kingsley Namakhwa said it was against the law to mount such campaigns anonymously.

  But he also pointed out that homosexuality was illegal, and anyone promoting it would be prosecuted.

  
  (Source: BBC)
  
  

  
  

• The Beautiful Game and understanding the offside rule

  Posted: February 7, 2010, 11:49 pm by Tamaku

  Last Sunday George and I got invited by our Nigerian neighbour Theo to watch the televised final of the African Cup of Nations final at his house. I was rooting for Ghana because I like the way their kit showed off their well-toned physiques and the contrast of the white on the ebony was just pure gay heaven. George came along for the football (I’m also a fan of sorts) while Theo was cheering on Egypt because he was still holding a grudge following the semi-final defeat his countrymen suffrered at the hands of the Ghanaians.
  
  So we drank me brodah Theo’s booze (lots of it, remember I don’t have to get up and go anywhere these days) and gorged ourselves on among other delights boiled quail eggs (from that lady doctor over in Lavington). I need to get off my fat ass and make better use of my membership at Parklands Sports Club to get back in shape like the hottie I aspire to be. Incidentally Theo’s mid-thirties, handsome in an African Forrest-Gump sort of way, athletic and a scientist who lives alone with two cats in a beautiful bungalow. Just the kind of guy you shouldn’t introduce to your boyfriend because you should keep him all to yourself, lol. There are some things about Theo that scream iko matata hapo mbele (trouble lies ahead). It was the first time we’ve been to his place, we normally meet while taking walks in the evening and just wave. We both assumed that Theo was straight but after an hour in his house I set my gay-o-meter to alert mode.
  
  Here’s the evidence that set those alarm bells ringing:
  
  - Straight alpha-male ( Theo) in lush dreadlocks invites two male neighbours who live together and are obviously a couple (in love) to his house to watch a game of football. Unfair home advantage springs to mind.
  
  - Straight man then sprawls on the floor of immaculate home drinking lots of lovely alcohol, moisturised footballer-legs wide apart (slut) wearing only a tiny pair of mauve Ralph Lauren shorts (displaying what looks like a yummy overstuffed wrap-sandwich), fingers lazily stroking away silky navel pubes while flaunting naked tight six-pack abs (who does he think he is, Tyrese? Why‘s he gonna act like that?)
  
  - Straight man’s pumped man titties on show are just crying out to be tweaked as he lies on that super-soft luxurious sheepskin made from at least three innocent Molo lambs (poser).
  
  - Straight man arranges napkins on rustic teak coffee table in the rose fold.
  
  I was thinking wishing, is this guy not gay because from what I could see he was Interpol’s description of hot Nigerian man-stealer called Theo ( a love-god’s name to boot, tsk..tsk) but I might have been offside.
  
  I kept a beady eye on Theo whenever he rolled side to side on the rug as he stretched a pedicured foot playfully catching George’s calf with a ’free-kick’ (surely a bookable offence) every time the ref blew the whistle…..like he himself wanted to blow something else....puhleeze!!

  
  

• Big Car, Small Dick

  Posted: February 5, 2010, 3:00 am by Tamaku

  Tuesday afternoon I was standing in a queue at the bank. There was a man ahead of me at the counter getting serviced served, he was being quite loud so much that everyone could hear his business.
  
  So there he was, standing in dusty shoes and wearing a mismatched suit which are sure signs of the Kenyan billionare, wobbly belly swaying over cantilevered trouser-belt which is the third sign of Nairobi's obscenely wealthy. I was wondering how much money you'd have to get paid to sleep with someone like that (zillions at least) or how much alcohol do you have to imbibe before you can do it with the lights on. Meanwhile his short, chubby but surprisingly athletic fingers (It's not the size of the finger that matters, but the size of the ring. Lol, big fat lie!) were banging away to the annoying crescendo of the note counting machine as he transacted small fortunes across multiple accounts, setting up standing orders, getting bankers' cheques and just for good measure he also drew a few hundred thousand 'to pay the workers, haha ha ha'. I even saw him slide the cashier a couple thou, for lunch. The people in the jittering lunchtime queue were far from impressed. BTW, my bank offers me teas and coffees while I'm waiting but nowhere to powder my nose, where is the sense in that?
  
  After 'beached-whale trucking mini-waterfall-cascading-down-the-crack-of-bum (lovely sweat, mmmm)' waddled out of Barclays the young woman behind me muttered: 'These sad men who want people to notice them - it's all about the size of the cock!'
  
  
  Just be yourself, you are somebody and the world belongs to you too. Glenn Jones
  
  

  
  

• Gorilla on steroids

  Posted: February 2, 2010, 11:41 pm by Tamaku

  My sister whispered to me when I got back to our table at the restaurant where we had lunch the other day bro you really mince when you walk. I just laughed in her face because many years ago she told me I used to walk too agressively with my feet pointing ten to two, so I taught myself a new walk. Perhaps I've been swish since then, managing to conceal the wriggle in my bottom under suit jackets.
  
  But now I'm at the point in life where I can't be bothered with doing stuff just to please people. So I'm not going to stop wearing fishnets or listening to Madonna and I'm definitely not going to start walking around like a gorilla on steroids.
  
  I'll just be me.

  
  

• The au pair who loved me (without those irritating subtitles)

  Posted: January 30, 2010, 4:23 am by Tamaku

  Three years ago I stayed with my best friend Mike in Thigiri for two months while our house was getting renovated. I was ensconced at the lavish poolside guest suite at the back of the main house separated from the domestic servant quarters by a large cabro-paved courtyard.
  
  Mike’s two angelic offspring are my cherished godchildren and at the time they had an au pair, a young woman from a neighbouring French-speaking country. Mike and Zawadi just wanted their kids to get a head start in life from speaking a foreign language. The au pair’s name was Brigitte and she used to sleep in the domestic servants’ quarters 20 metres or so from my suite.
  
  One breezy night I was startled by an urgent tapping on the bedroom window to spy Brigitte standing outside in the leafy shadows. I thought she looked petrified so I said come to the door and then I got out of the cosy warm bed in my pyjamas after I deftly shut my proscribed-in-Kenya gay porn mag and slipped it under the mattress. When she came to the door I saw Brigitte only had on a deliciously flimsy lavender-coloured see-through nightie more like a mini-camisole and nothing else under. And I mean nothing. Picture that sight because it really happened but then I thought, wait a minute, am I imagining things but I wasn’t imagining because she was there in the flesh and I hadn’t had a drink (hard for some to believe but true). I asked her what’s the matter and she said she was so afraid to sleep in her room alone because she’d eyed a monster spider careening under her bed.
  
  Now, I totally understand the fear of arachnids and other creepy crawlies so I caught her arm said you better come inside quickly and get out of harm’s way. I closed the door and said I’ll go wake Mike and ask him what to do but she sshh-shhed me and whispered hoarsely (excuse me but I’ll do my best to do the accent):
  
  ‘No need to coll Mr Mike, Tamakuh. Of al’ ze men I’ve met since I come to Kenyah, therez sam-sing spécial that…how do you say?….. ooo- la- la….draws me like a magnet to you….aaahh. Me and you…we spend ze night togezzer and no ozer personne needs to know I promesse, non?’
  
  So flattering these French-accented lovelies, but oh so, so unfair. Why, why, why knock on the wrong door? Why would it not have been a monsieur kneeling before me asking me about suckin ze kok..
  
  She was standing right up close her eyes flickering wildly like fireflies and I was gulping the night air ogling her goodies. I sink ze fear of ze spider and ze cold July night had made ze nipples stand all sharp and pointy like…
  
  That’s when the penny dropped. But you know me I always do as I’m telled (new English word, lol!)and don’t like to disappoint anyone, least of all damsels in disdress, so I said it’s a very generous offer but not here and not tonight my dear. If you like you can have ze warm bed and I’ll sleep on ze couch. This is what we did until the next morning when I woke up to find she’d gone.
  
  Later that day I called the house from the office to speak to Brigitte. I told her she was absolutely gorgeous but I didn’t think anything should happen between the two of us because of too many complications but I was happy for us to remain friends. Brigitte was taking none of it lying down, she asked me sweetly why not, could we not be friends with benefeets or what you call in English buck fuddies? (opps there’s a spoonerism just for you!) I said I’ve thought long and hard (lies) - but I don’t want to use you and end up hurting your feelings (trues)…I remember also using other words like ‘respect’, 'frogs and princes' and ‘commitment’…blah blah blah. After that we shook hands mentally and agreed to just be friends.
  
  It all turned out well in the end. Brigitte soon met up with one of her compatriots who swept her off her feet in a Mills and Boon with violins-in-the-background romance style. Last year they went back home and now I’m invited to the Land of a Thousand Hills for their wedding later this year.
  
  I’m happy that we were able to develop and maintain such a wonderful friendship to this day.

  
  

• Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?

  Posted: January 28, 2010, 12:15 pm by Tamaku

  A long time ago, around the time that Trust Bank went under with our terminally ill neighbour’s life savings, I used to be flat mates with a lovely young lady from somewhere down south. She was a stunning black beauty (a deep-black gem a kind rarely seen in Kenya those days).
  
  One day she said to me, ‘Tam, I’m sexually and emotionally starved, I need a boyfriend. Why do the ‘half-caste’ girls have all the nice guys?’ Fact is some black Nairobians equate biracial (aka ‘.5’ or ‘pointi’) with superior social and economic status placing them somewhere in between White and Asian people. These snobs, usually wearing emerald-colored contact lenses, like posing in roach-infested nightclubs combing tobacco-stained fingertips through the tangled blonde weaves sewn on their heads. I replied in a lisp because I used to wear teeth braces back then: ‘Join the queue thithta. I know how you feel because I too desperately need a boyfriend but any caste will do.’ Anyway deep in her mind she was convinced that the reason she didn’t have a steady guy was because she was pitch-dark in complexion. You’ll be amazed the number of people who have self-image issues.
  
  So Janice went out and bought some skin lightening creams which came in yellow tubes, it’s not legal to sell them any more. I said please do be careful you don’t need that poison, you really look amazing just the way God made you, however if you must then don’t leave the tubes lying around in the bathroom I might confuse them for that cream I use to treat my piles. Her mind was made up to attempt to dilute her blackness and nothing would stop her. Well, the results in a few short months were extreme. Soon she looked yellow all over even difficult to ‘treat’ areas like knuckles, knees, ankles, and elbows. She felt vindicated when she shortly hooked herself a nice guy who loved to show off his light-skinned catch.
  
  One Saturday night we were all at the flat jus’ chillaxin’, too broke to go anywhere listening to Musical Youth, ‘how does it feel when you’ve got no food?’ when the boyfriend chanced on a photograph of a younger ‘old’ Janice in the drawer where we used to hide our stash of weed (highly illegal in Kenya make sure you never get caught or they’ll make an example of you unless you have friends in high places – lol!). He asked aloud, ‘Who is this?’ Janice looked spooked but she recovered quickly and lied: ‘It’s my cuzin from bek home.’ The boyfriend looked at the picture again and said, ‘Your cousin is one deadly chick’ but he didn’t mean she had chlamydia (now that's deadly) that’s just the way we used to talk then. Then we carried on passing the spliff on the left hand side.
  
  A year later I was overjoyed to learn they were expecting a baby. When baby Tandy finally arrived she was an original dark copy of her mother. 100% African.
  
  Sting in the tail is that the boyfriend left them because he felt cheated to discover that he had been dating 'local' all along....

  
  

• Life is about one gay at a time and keeping fit playing sports (long version)

  Posted: January 23, 2010, 1:02 am by Tamaku

  I think I’m getting a little lazier by the day. I resigned my job at the beginning of December to ‘pursue other interests’ because I believed life should not be just about sitting in endless meetings listening to the same old chatter and nodding like a puppy while dreaming, the sky is so blue and the sun is really shining brightly outside, how I wish I was working on a farm milking cows. We’re still looking for an ideal piece of land to come along at the right price. In the interim I get by on morsels dripping from freelance consultancy work but I’m not exactly overwhelmed. I even put in for voluntary work but nothing yet.
  
  George also left his job with the police force. He’s now a supervisor for a security firm (not the one that keeps losing millions of shillings in transit, ok?). I can’t tell you which one otherwise I’d have to kill you, lol! Anyway he’s definitely getting more confident; thankfully he’s never had that problem in bed hehehehehe. A long time ago I read lies somewhere (no doubt by a sad and lonely bachelor) that there’s nothing like an impotent man; just an incompetent woman. Some men! And the pay George is getting is way better. I’m so happy for him because your self-esteem can take a dent when you’ve got a college diploma but end up working as a Nairobi traffic policeman (many might disagree).
  
  Weekdays I normally get out of bed 8am-ish scratching my bum yawning and thinking foggily, ‘Thank you dear Lord for a lovely new day but what am I going to do with it?’ The demons in my head reply, ‘Tam, today you are going to do less than you did yesterday,’ and shortly after I have breakfast, cooked for me by Imelda (tireless gay-friendly house-keeper). I then sit sipping Sasini-gold black tea in the garden or on the balcony while I catch up on the newspapers. I can’t bear the morning news on the telly. I think that’s when you’re most likely to endure dyslexic presenters. One newsreader who looks like how I imagine William Ruto's and Martha Karua’s lovechild might look over shuffles papers as though she’s ad libbing, everyone knows it’s the autocue, sweetie.
  
  I grab a quick wash next, lately singing what, what in the butt for inspiration. Let me confess at this point, my friends, that yes I do pee in the shower. Don’t be disgusted it’s really textbook man-alone-in-shower and we’ve had this conversation before. It’s how men are plumbed between the legs even the bits look like taps anyway. After I dry myself and dust some nivea pure fine talc on my nuts I get dressed. Freedom means no more suits just tracksuit bottoms and loose kitenge tops. I then sit in the study lying to myself that I'll get some work done at the computer. BTW, there are so many unsecured wireless connections around here it beggars belief. Every other day I also make kit calls to former colleagues (to keep in touch). It’s easy to forget and be forgotten and I also don’t want to cut myself off completely from other humans. This goes on till 11am when I go downstairs to join Imelda for the rest of the day. She’s usually getting our lunch ready or doing some cleaning so I get in the way talking too much while drinking lager. I know it’s very naughty because I now drink at least 3 deliciously cold tuskers before lunch. But not the other day because I wanted to be sharp while live-streaming Clinton’s major policy address on internet freedom. Cheers and good work Hillary!
  
  Imelda is wonderful company and so, so easy to be around. I’m not just saying it, she really is one of God's angels. I love to bounce my tipsy ideas off her from the labyrinth I used to navigate that is branding and PR. In exchange I’m learning about accounting and finance (she’s taking a course at a college in town). Some days I forget about lunch (cold beers can numb the mind and they dull the appetite). So we play some pool (I'm good, but not misspent-youth good) or darts (flukey) in the family room which we converted to a games room and I end up having 5 or 6 half-litre cans straight from the fridge before 3 pm. Imelda never has an alcoholic beverage during the day unless it’s election time when we are nervously awaiting results but sometimes I secretly wish she’d drop her guard because I’d love to peel away the layers for a sneaky peek, see what I find (*major eye-roll*, some people and their filthy thoughts, eish!). She told me last week that now she’s got me during the day it’s like we are a married couple. I laughed but I wasn’t thinking anything like that. I just hope we get to that farm or something worthwhile to do soon. Check my CV, if you hear anything interesting please drop me an email.
  
  In the meantime you can all rest assured that I’m getting better at playing pool.
  
  (Pic is of the shoeshine bank on Aga Khan Walk - Harambee Avenue near my old office)
  
  

  
  

• Paradise has a name

  Posted: January 22, 2010, 1:59 am by Tamaku

  I feel a holiday coming...
  
  

  
  

• O!M!G!

  Posted: January 20, 2010, 1:09 am by Tamaku

  
  
  I like singing this in the shower...

  
  

• Chickens come home to roost and some want to touch your tits

  Posted: January 19, 2010, 3:30 am by Tamaku

  About half a year ago I posted here about my concerns on the growing security threat facing Kenya from lawless Somalia unless drastic preemptive action was taken. There are various elements from that territory (some have already shown their hand in last week's audacious riots in Nairobi's CBD) who threaten our way of life and the government must waste no more time in taking decisive action to smash them.
  
  Otherwise we face a real risk of having Kenyan womens' bras confiscated if they should fail the Al-Shabab firm-bust test.

  
  

• Which uncouth homosexual tried to finger Barack Muluka, eh? Now look what you’ve done.

  Posted: January 17, 2010, 10:11 pm by Tamaku

  I was sitting alone in the garden the other morning having breakfast and trying to figure out what event could have triggered the recent outburst from Barack Muluka. Question: By the way is it Barack with a single or two r's? I felt the anger in the article, it was very personal, I thought here’s a dude who needs to get a grip and lighten up. Especially when I read that part about coming ‘across uncouth male characters who will even try to finger you in conversation and try ‘taking you out’. Mmmmm....this one takes himself too seriously.
  
  Sounds to me like a distressed plea to get shown the ropes on how to ‘congress homosexually’ (reverse psychology 101 chapter on Spotting the Repressed Kenyan Homosexual). Yuck, these ‘journalists’ will try anything all in the name of advancing their craft. Ok fair enough Barry, you know me, always happy to help out. Only condition is that before we proceed and get you trained on this fingering business I must insist you first have an enema. Pure and simple. Yep, you heard right! No ifs no buts darling, fix a hose of gushing water up your arse and enjoy. You can tape old copies of the Standard on the walls to prevent any splatter messing up your room’s decor. Because shit happens also make sure you do it when you are all alone, they’ll be a lot of erm, previously unseen compacted faecal material. (The mental picture was enough to put me right off my breakfast,lol).
  
  Allow me to refresh your memory, dear reader, just where you might have come across that brand of fascist vitriol before. The unwarranted aggression and habit of conflating abhorrent acts of criminality (rape, bestiality , paedophilia) with homosexuality is spookily common to that toerag blogger ‘Blake’ who used to spew his lies here before he got shut down. He’s always whining about how he was shat on. These bullies who can’t take it like a man, I pity them. Since he moved to the other place he’s faded into obscurity.
  
  Or is this the resurrection?

  
  

• Go, Kenya Go!

  Posted: January 13, 2010, 1:25 am by Tamaku

  I’m delighted with the news that Kenyans are now using over 15 million condoms per month up from 7 million. It's phenomenal considering George and I only got together last year and also after that scare about 'leaky' condoms in the market! By the way would it be fitting to name such a child 'Houdini'? Lol!
  
  Seriously though, I just pray the statistics are to be believed because I haven’t seen anyone round our house rifling through the bins....

  
  

• Getting a boy to do a man’s job where cash is king

  Posted: January 12, 2010, 12:52 am by Tamaku

  Reading the harrowing tales of abuse that Kenyan maids have suffered at the hands of their Saudi masters I’m reminded how shamefully some gay expatriates and well-heeled Kenyans are guilty of employing male domestic workers (gardeners, drivers, house-keepers etc) and also subjecting them to horrendous abuse.
  
  There’s an abundance of unskilled labour here in one of the world’s most unequal countries, so some unscrupulous employers get away with paying salaries as low as KSH 4,000 (around USD 50) per month! for 18 hour–days with no shortage of candidates to exploit. The nightmare for the mwananchi (‘citizen’ but lately used by politicians to mean gullible slum-dwelling hoi polloi or The Great Unwashed) can start when he responds to one of those ads placed on shopping mall noticeboards: ‘Live-in Houseboy Wanted by Expat’.
  
  ‘Expat’ in Kenya for many locals conjures up images of better working conditions, Weetabix, evergreen money-growing trees on a well-tended lawn, red Corps Diplomatique licence plates and the chance to dine at the drivers’ canteen when you get taken to the Mara on a working-holiday, wow. Unfortunately there are also cases of some ‘houseboys’ (sometimes married men with families, by the way) being coerced to perform sexual acts as demanded from time to time by the boss. If you thought you had a bad day at the office, think again. This is job mis-description with ass-licking for real!
  
  Sadly a combination of ‘macho society’ and the fear of losing a job means these faceless victims continue to wipe away nightly tears of shame in silence, within plush gated- communities and the over-manicured kei apple hedges grown to keep one set of undesirables from the other. Another irony is that the male employer (saddled with the excessive pay and perks of a business mogul but usually working for NGOs to help the living-on-less-than-a-dollar-a-day Kenyans) is able to buy a veneer of respectability because he hasn’t taken on a female worker. It’s also a fact that Kenyan women form the obvious sexual diet for the majority of predatory employers.
  
  What troubles me still is these are some of the many people here who refer to an adult man as ‘boy’ or grown woman as ‘girl ‘ – 'houseboy', 'shamba-boy' (gardener). Might there be a perverse connection with the apathy that seems to surround the cases of child abuse in this country?

  
  

• What to do now?

  Posted: January 10, 2010, 3:07 am by Tamaku

  First poll of 2010 is here. Thanks for those who voted in the last one, I hope anyone who confessed to seeing me naked in their dreams has dried themselves up after a cold shower. Anyway (moving on swiftly) this new poll concerns the boyfriend of a friend’s cousin, a best friend and Facebook. I’m told the issue of cheating is one that plagues many gay relationships. Please vote and let me know what you’d do in the circumstances; poll’s on the left.

  
  

• What do traditions have to do with any marriage?

  Posted: January 6, 2010, 1:23 am by Tamaku

  Homophobes like to argue against gay unions citing 'traditions'. So here comes a video clip* that deals with some of those 'traditions'.
  
  
  
  *With permission from Keith Hartman

  
  

• Kenyans must come together to save Mau Forest even if it means giving Daniel arap Moi more tea

  Posted: January 5, 2010, 1:31 am by Tamaku

  We returned to a sodden Nairobi last night which made it a tad better for my arthritic knee after arctic Britain. I see that ex-President Moi has been bolstering his 'impeccable' elder-statesman credentials with his unhelpful brand of science expounding how scarring swathes of Mau Forest Complex with tea plantations has not contributed to any detrimental effects on this crucial water tower. And a member of his erstwhile government William Ole Ntimama has joined the fray claiming to have allocated the forest land under duress. He’s conveniently invoking the principle of following orders (Nuremberg Defense-style) because I know wily Bill Ole Ntimama is no one’s fool.
  
  You can say teetotaller Moi and Ntimama are like frequent whisky- mixed- with- red-wine hangovers; they just get worse and dangerous with age. Scientific fact coming up: More congeners in dark-coloured drinks will give you monster hangovers.
  
  Moi in his trademark raspy voice and toting a silver-tipped ivory baton likes to cloak himself as a traditionalist and a staunch Christian. Who can forget him in the 90’s striking out viperously against homosexuality terming it unAfrican and unChristian? In order to be respected, authority has got to be respectable (Tom Robbins, much respect), unfortunately most of what we remember about Moi is how he, his family and cronies were implicated in many sophisticated corruption scandals of unforgivable proportions. I doubt he has the sense God gave the crocodiles on the Mara River (when they lie waiting for wildebeeste) to draw less attention to himself.
  
  I’m 99.99% certain he’ll now be at the front of the queue; cap in hand, chasing a bumper compensation for dubiously acquired property. Let’s just pay him off and hope it buys him sleep in his sunset years.

  
  

• Passing the paper

  Posted: December 31, 2009, 2:24 am by Tamaku

  George and I arrived in London a couple of days ago to be with my siblings over New Year's. It was freezing when my bro Timmy and his wife picked us up from Heathrow, so much so that when we got to the house in Esher they had to sort us out with electric blankets and hot water bottles. We both had zero blood flowing through our circulatory systems...brrrrr and you know how bad that is for sex.
  
  BTW flight KQ 116 to Amsterdam for the connection to London was crap and I'm still annoyed about it but that's the subject of a detailed post coming here very soon.
  
  In the meantime please enjoy some Direct Drive passing the paper.
  
  

  
  

• Never forget 97

  Posted: December 29, 2009, 2:05 am by Tamaku

  I just wanted to say a big Thank You to all who visit my blog - much love to you all.
  
  I share Femi Kuti's performance here and I hope you'll feel the fire that comes with it. Only one Fela. I'll never forget 97 but I plan to keep smiling whatever.
  
  Happy 2010 everyone. xx xxx.
  
  
  Femi Kuti - 97 - Live Africa Shrine
  Uploaded by piRjtull. - See the latest featured music videos.

  
  

• Storm over paradise

  Posted: December 24, 2009, 2:55 pm by Tamaku

  Happy Christmas and best wishes for the New Year to friends (and foes) from a rain-soaked Nairobi. Last night the taps in heaven really opened but we say thanks for the rain because it was getting beyond a joke.
  
  Laters, and hope you all have a great time, we plan to.... xxx xxx xx

  
  

Blah blah blah

Fish cakes

Alas a fish cake.

Yet more fish cakes

Guess what ... yeah ... fish cakes.

The end of the fish cakes