George Gikunda

Before you skydive into conclusions, it's important to note that I met her completely by chance. True story. Here goes. So, It's a Saturday afternoon and I have just had my hair cut at Nick's barbershop when I see this lady approaching. See, Nick can't keep secrets. As soon as he sees the lady approaching his shop, he gives me the lowdown. Apparently she is a call girl. 'Not many people know but I know'. He says it like he got the 411 from a top secret government file. She is not dressed like your typical call girl. She is in a pink tracksuit. Maybe that's what call girls wear when they are off duty, I don't know.  She is tall, light and has a hoodie over her head. It's only when she pulls it down that I realize that her hair is almost the size of mine. The clean cut look fits her. She looks like the average girl next door. Only prettier. Well, depending on who you live next door to. She gets in and I realize because of her chosen hairst...

I got lost twice in my own neighborhood looking for the Kcabin Lounge. They have a sign post at the main turning but after that, you're on your own. I later realize that this puzzle works to amplify your expectations and after two wrong turns, I finally arrive at this massive gate. As soon as the gate opens, my mind goes on holiday. I could have sworn I had left Meru. As we walk in, I can't help but think this must be the magic that happens when investment meets taste. The entire place is made of wood wrapped in elegant stone pieces draped in greenery. It's both rustic and chic. A difficult combination to achieve. The wooden structures all seem to have 'grown' together with the plants. They interact seamlessly.  It feels like the ultimate holiday home. The kind of place that cloud nine comes to relax. Thats no hyperbole. That place, is this place. What really amazes me about Kcabin Lounge is the level of detail that has gone into...

If you are a politician, I suggest you stop reading because I can't promise this piece will lift your spirits. We! It's harvest time here in shags! You see, politics in the big city is nothing like shags politics. In the city, all you see are huge events, snaking convoys and tattooed politicians. In shags, money talks, bullshit walks. Money is the language of persuasion. This time round, the tide has suddenly turned and locals have outwitted the politicians. Locals now eat from ALL aspirants THEN listen to them. Whoever has the best policies, that's who they vote for. That decision is made while they eat. It's our very own unique version of democracy. The people are out to make as much money from politicians as ever before. They already know who they will vote for anyway, so why not pretend to laugh at your master's joke as you order your sixth round on him? Campaign T-shirt Fashion Month is here and clearly reflects this harvest. You know those Chinese made c...

Hitting 30 and still single is a situation that people don't let you forget. I strongly suspect that if I posted a picture with a nun, my family and friends would leave comments like finally or hapo sawa . For a guy who isn't in a matrimonial rush, this can be exhausting. People ask you to get a wife like it's that easy. Like you just have to walk to a market and look for the guy yelling biiibi fefte! beiya jioni! Fefte! Actually I wish there was such a guy. With options like kuna hii brown slim and quarrelsome ama you take this one, ni Mzee lakini bado inafanya. Nitakata kumi. That guy would be my hero. Well, the truth is by the time you hit 30, you know more or less what you want in a partner. You are more choosy. In less of a hurry. You have learnt to live with yourself. You have learnt to find comfort in your own company. At least that true in my case. However, if most of your friends are married, like me, you can't help but wonder what life would be like ...

This is a true story. Well, most of it. Meet Mr. Njoroge. It's early evening and he is seated on a bar stool at Carnivore bar sipping on his 25 year old single malt whiskey. Njoroge is a happy man. He just won a government tender and can't decide between a new Rover or a new H2. He calls the waiter who with years of experience in noticing windfalls, rushes over. Njoroge orders another shot, heck, he might as well order the whole bottle, he thinks. He does. Mr. waiter smiles in anticipation. Meanwhile, back home, Njoroge's teenage sons, Mike and Mark, are gearing up for a great night. They are supposed to hook up the ride for everyone to the club. All they have to do is wait for Mzee to get back, wait till he is asleep and quietly push the car past the gate and off they go. They had done this so many times before. They were pros. Back at the Carnivore, Njoroge has had more than enough. He pays his bill and staggers to the car park. He's more than tipsy so he drives...