Insta babe 

Anybody with a crush here? Sorry I mean, anybody without a crush here? Nobody! Crushes are gorgeous.Crushes are handsome. Crushes are perfect beings ever created by God, in fact crushes are moulded, they are not created like the rest of us. Crushes are ever right in our eyes. Crushes are small gods, Crushes are the only people we are dying to spend our every minute with, right? Crushes. Crushes. Crushes. Me my crush just ‘died’ the other day. Let me tell you what happened. 

Yesterday my friend – Kim, requested me to swing over to his digs because his elder sister had just flown in from Europe, and there was some sort of a celebration taking down. That was the best news I’ve received this year by the way – a golden moment to strangle free pilau and chapos was just knocking. Mark you, me and pilau can go to the moon and back so when a homecoming party invitation knocks at my door, I can’t hesitate to rush to the door to let it in. So I asked Kim to confirm there were chapos and pilau and he said “of course.” To be sincere, I almost quarrelled him for not informing me in good time, not because of chapos and pilau but because house parties are crucial events. You don’t just slide your stinky ass feet into dusty loafers and run there. No!  You’ve to dress up and look sharp for the obvious reason that while there, you expect to meet some folk for the first (and probably the last) time and si you know very well how first impression matters? You don’t want your unkempt hair to be their family WhatsApp group subject of discussion the next day. Neither do you want to be remembered as that sweaty guy who showed up for a party in gumboots. Or worse still, you don’t want to later turn up for an interview, then an old mama (interviewee) lowers her glasses to her nose to see you clearly, then checks your file again and asks you: 

“Ronald, have we met before?” And because you think saying yes will earn you that job, you will confidently respond:

“Yes madam, at your daughter’s homecoming party.”

Then she will ask “Do you take bath these days?”

That’s when you will find the ground the most interesting spot to look at. Then you will make a quick flashback to the day Kim invited you to that bash. You will remember him instructing you to hurry up because the bash had already started. So you jumped onto the first mat on stage and off you were to his place. Halfway through the journey, you remembered that the last time you visited the shower was six days ago, that’s the day Lucy had promised to come over, though she didn’t even make it. So obviously you were emitting a variety of gases. And that’s how you’ll miss that job because nobody wants to hire people who have water as their greatest foe. But that’s not what brought us here today. Ama you guys will allow me continue with it kidogo? Ok, just one more line, or two. Okay, after you remembering all that, you’ll now hate Kim for calling you over to that bash, you will hate Lucy for failing to turn up, then you’ll hate this woman interviewing you for being so petty. And finally you’ll hate me for telling people about it. Thanks guys, I’m done. We can now role back to our story. 

So after Kim calling me over, I sprinted to the shower and withing 3 minutes, I was as ready as a quickie, quickies are and will always be ready. Hehe. So I take my big stomach there and the bash happens. The next morning, we are taking a stroll with Kim in Embakasi when he suddenly bursts into an uproar. The kind of laugh that sends you thinking when the hell your friend went nuts. He laughs until tears form in his eyes. Do you guys ever find yourself laughing because somebody else is laughing? That’s what happened to me and I found it weird and funny. So I try to calm him but find myself in stitches too. I then ask what the matter is and he points his right finger the opposite side of the road. 

There’s some hunny holding a full piece of roasted maize in her right arm, her other hand holding a green nylon paper (which I suspected was carrying ugali-madondo and a piece of mutura cause if she can afford to walk around the streets grinding roasted maize then that paper could as well be carrying wet pants for all she cares). She’s in grey hotpants, blue sandals and a plain indigo T-shirt, walking in the same direction with us. I see her lift that maize towards her mouth, bites it and starts chewing. I ask Kim why he’s laughing and he’s like “seriously you don’t know who that is?” just before Kim completes his statement, that hunny turns his face in our direction and trust me, I didn’t believe my eyes. It’ll be fair that I tell you who that hunny is. 
Her name is Angie (for Angela), the first time we locked eyes my heart raced and took two steps from its initial position. That alone was enough sign that she was meant to be a special treasured being in my life. Later, I approached her to inquire her name and can you guess what she did? Ok, she asked for my phone, logged onto my instagram, searched her name, clicked the follow button then grinned and handed the phone back. Of course I had to plant a smile on my face and exclaim at her 18.3K followers, when our boy Achman here is still struggling with his 12 followers. From that time, me and my 12 followers have been her diehard fans. 84% of my mwitu bundles is spent on her instagram wall, waiting for her latest posts so I can be among the first 300 people to hit the like button. Funny bit, she never posts herself in grey hotpants and blue sandals, with a blue nylon paper full of mutura and with her right arm holding a full roasted maize, in a ghetto background. All of her pictures are taken behind leather car seat belts, in good clubs and in smart offices, with filters. 

I will not tell you how we exchanged numbers cause that’s a whole 1,500 words story. But I’ll tell you this part where, a week after getting her number, I sent her a “Hi, how are things over there?” text, which took her three hours to compose a one word reply “hey.” That made me realize that at that rate if I was to go into so many details, it would take my entire lifetime to let her know I like her. So I sobbered up and decided to hit the nail on the head. “By the way, given a chance to choose between you and Arianna, I’d comfortably fall for you.” I think she doesn’t know who Arianna Grande is or thinks she’s way too prettier than Arianna cause that text marked the end of our conversation. 

My people, a crush who comfortably walks around with a full roasted maize cob in the streets of Embakasi can kill you anytime. How do you even feel when a friend tells you that they saw your crush eating mutura along Muindi Mbingu Street in town? How do you feel? Have you ever sat down and wondered why some people just perish  mysteriously?  I guess you got sorted there. You see, there’s no problem with my random girlfriends eating mutura along Mayor road in Rongai. Totally no problem with that. Like there’s this day I bumped into one of my girlfriends in Rongai and she said ” Achman, ninunulie maindi.” Then I turned to the handsome guy selling the maize, we exchanged pleasantries, laughed, then as a gentleman,  I picked one ready maize piece and gave it to her and instructed the vender to pack the remaining ready roasted maize in a black paper bag for her.  Then I paid, told the hunny to hold the black paper, the next thing I did was to fake a call and disappear. How do you walk with a girl carrying a full bag of roasted maize in town?  We’ve never been in good terms since then.  Back to Angie my crush. 

By the way I captured her in that scene and I’m planning to post that pic with a hashtag #crushmanenos and tag her on instagram. But I’m afraid I won’t even get more than 7 likes, and I also know that her 18.3K followers will roast me online and declare that photo a pure product of photoshop.   In case that happens si you guys will help me prove that that photo is a real picture? But whoever knows Angie, please let her know she’s no longer my crush. 

Meanwhile I’ve been having a craving for roasted maize since yesterday. From here I’m directly headed to Rongai for the same. See you guys.  

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