Telenovelas and movies introduced Africans to world never seen. A world where love is expressed freely and cheesy things are said. Terms of endearment include; I love you, dear, sweetheart, soulmate. These were but strange terms in pre colonial africa .

We however are not to be accused of not trying to learn. Anyone who suggests that we are not trying is just a hayra (hater).

I mean c’mon look at the occassions we have been shown love or we ourselves showed love. I’m teary just thinking about it.

Let me translate some of this instances love was shown to you but might have missed it.

Example one , when your late for class, a classmate would say-

“Unakuja ama nipeane kiti yako, haiyaa”


It translates to; Honey come to class will you, I want you to be educated.

They care that you will be educated.


When you borrow some money, the debtor will assume everything you have is thanks to them. You hear them say-

“Kaa sio mimi, yule ata hangekuwa na uhai.”


Remember that God breathed life into man and decides when He takes it.

When you clean up , wash your face and look good. A compliment looks like this –

“Ata hujikai”


This means that the water you use can remould your clay and you will look like a different pot. A beautiful pot.

If your parent ever tells you-

“Leo tupike nini?” After a thorough beating its an apology and love served in one dish.

If you look at your mpesa WSTCDGHFGH 0.00 balance , don’t be mad, the tears in your eyes. I know don’t tell me -it’s tears of joy. Your 0.00 balance loves you and doesnt want to share you with money. Its faithful. I hear wedding bells.

Let me get some tissues because I can’t continue. I can’t. All this love.



Steve Job once said that if you live everyday like its your last,someday you will most certainly be right.

From the moment we are born death is peeping through the window and watching us.

Its glaring hard at us as we narrowly escape its fangs. When we walk recklessly in the traffic, when we ignore a doctor’s call, when we ignore signs from our bodies .

Death is looking at our mirrored reflection and rushing to get a hold of us.

Death is like a river. An overflowing river that sweeps through lands and bare ground. Picking every dirt and valuable object without bias. Washing away the plants of the hardworking farmer. Not even a care of the time invested.

Taking away the good and bad people. Robbing us of heroes . Men who are ambassadors of change. Women who have changed the course of life. The river of death is merciless.

Death is inescapable. There is no use worrying over a program whose softare you cant change. It matters not how long you live but what you do with your time.

Make memories with people. Engage with ideologies you once thought were insane. Push your agenda one more time. Explain yourself again, in a different tone. Help someone, not because your rich, but because you can.

Leave a legacy people can remember you by. Be the reason somebody believes in the goodness of humanity.

I know, I know, the state of our universe as we know it makes you wonder whether you wanna come out of this whole life thing a monster or a good person. You can create a reality that makes you love being alive in this timeline.

As you move about in your life, who will cry when you are gone?

Confidence in life

People in shags(upcountry) think am this huge writer in the newspapers. Where did they get this information you ask, well I might have hyped myself exceedingly the last time I was there .

Saying things like;”You know our resident editor liked the story I published on the gazeti.”


Its not like the resident editor concerns him/herself with all the stories in the news but just them hearing a complex term such as ‘resident editor’ makes them believe.


“You know, I don’t read the gazetis” they answer.(opening)


Yes I know, why do you think I lied with the newspapers and not television. They believe me. As a matter of fact, if you secretly whisper into their ears and say am just a daytime blogger who threatenes people to read, they won’t believe you. So don’t waste your energy going to shags to have my head on the chopping board-let me just tell you the secret of looking like you’ve made it.

If they happen to read them newspapers and not see your name or face in the columns, blame it photoshop and the political instability in this country.

Tell them the media house used someone else’s photo instead of yours not to put your life in danger. Also you use a stage name in the columns to confuse the hitmen. They are after you, because you are as valuable as the president.

Tell them you love to remain anonymous on the newspapers. Go to the extent of recreating a dramatical scene while you explain how they confused your photo with somebody else’s thats why your photo did not appear on the column. Use words such- wuuuii hii kenya aki, hii dunia ina mambo kweli.

When the time comes for you to retrieve from the rural areas, disapear in the middle of the night because they will ask for some little money(you have none). When they ask why you disappeared like a thief say the secret service unit picked you in a secret invisible jet. (Hmmn… this jet is so secret and invisible and does not exist). Then dish out some secret service terms and conditions, for instance; ‘don’t tell this to anyone’ ‘this is between you and me’. They will believe.

By the way anyone asks about me say Warukira Hinga has 3 journalistic awards and is sponsored by coca cola. Mimi am tired being on the loosing side in this life. Nimechoka.






Being educated is a good thing. An educated person in Africa is viewed like a supermarket- they have everything. Everything. Variety is a quality best propounded here. There are stationaries, utensils, baked products, beauty products,accesories amd many more. Being an educated person means that you are not only specialist in one particular field but also every other field. Being a good teacher automatically means you can prescribe medicine to your students. Knowing something here and there about electricity means you know everything about phones and laptops. Its the unspoken/spoken expectation of you- its even in the code of ethics. Burning the candle at both ends.

You will visit your village and be expected to solve problems even the MCA can’t.

“Hey Timothy, hows you? Your mama told me you are currently at Masinde Muliro University pursuing a bachelor in Business Admnistration”

Innocently, Timothy will answer with a yes. Unknown to him, he will become the stamp of the village’s every decision.

“Hallo Timothy, are you busy today? come over by my house, the vetinary is here, come see if he is doing the correct thing.”

Timothy aint even sure the course he picked is the correct thing. Timothy don’t even know what the correct thing is.

“Hallo Timothy, is this the correct number as given by your mum. Oh it’s you, have you met my son’s current girlfriend? You haven’t? Let me tell you (1 hour later)Go advice the boy”

Tim out here being given the role of a peer counsellor. The only peer he knows is where p becomes a b to be ‘beer’. He’s a beer counsellor. Also his sentences end with…hmmn na mayengs.

“Carol,” a woman calls out. Carol want s to be a writer in a few years time. Besides that, being in campus means that she is qualified to prescribe and diagnos sicknesses.

“Caroline come here, the doctor did some tests on my blood and said the biopsy revealed some toxins in the system. Look at me Carol, am eating am walking, si the doctor is wrong.”

Caroline picks the result slip and googles to gain understanding. She then says that the doctor is right. Because of Caroline, the patient will stop disagreeing with the proffessional doctor.

Appreciate the bother though;

The opposite of this is depressing. Imagine being educated and not a single soul bothering to borrow light from your candle. Being a supermarket is a good thing means you have a variety of things to offer. If omo is out you sell ariel. If one of your skills runs out work with another. A supermarket lives in you.

How to know kikuyus are assimilating you

This is a fun article and there is no intention to cause any harm or discrimination.

One, you crave potatoes. Alot. Potatoes are the heart of kikuyu land. A meal without potatoes is like going to bed hungry.

“Baba, umekula” this is a concerned mum calling through the househelps line to talk to her kid.


“Eeh mekula…” The mother rests easy but before she cuts off the phone the child charms in,” lakini japatia mimi waru.”


The last maid got fired for this. A kikuyu kid must be fed some warus.

Two, a dire need to bargain. You know very well a supermarket has a fixed price of goods, but something else is stronger. The urge to save some coins. So you call for the manager, and tell him you have bought 30 items so he should cut you some slack. He says no, you change the supermarket.

Three, there is just something about water. You cant quite put your finger on it but the beauty of the colourless liquid is without denial. It looks even better when poured in some food. The meat, tomatoes , onions in there swimming for their lives is an exceptional image to you. Right there, you are kikuyu by absorption.

Four, you must attend to your business. The business is your baby. A gene in you wants to sell something during days set aside for play that is; after your wedding, after the graduation, after child birth. Have you ever attended a graduation ceremony and right before the graduate thanks the attendees, they begin with,”By the way nauzanga credit za mia na fifte, leo sina za twenty bob. If you would like some feel free to stop me in the middle of my speech and buy.”

Five, having multiple jobs. You have an mpesa shop, you have a chemist, a bakery, a private hospital over the weekend you drive to Nyahururu to sell timber.

Your date asks , eh Nyambu what do you do by the way?


“Oh during the week am an accountant till 5pm. After that I sell mtush. During the week I open my mpesa shop and I also sell over the counter blended juice.”


Nyambu will do that and have time for dating.

If you find yourself over-multitasking, the kikuyu gene is mutating in ya.

70 years from now

70 years from now I will be a grandma. I will be cooking yams and porridge for the whole village.

My grandkids will ask me, “shushu, where do you get the time to cook yams and porridge for the whole village,” I will answer them with, am 70 what else should I do with my time. The better question is why dint I do this sooner.

The whole village will call me shushu wa mauji. They will hush among themselves in low tones but jokes on them I will have a hearing aid. I will twist and turn my hearing aid till I get the right frequency and I will know what they are talking about. This is the rumour- I heard that she used to writes blogs, kweni what happened? Ama they were not good? But I also hear she no longer talks to her friends who did not read her blogs. That last part will be true in 70 years time or less time than that.

I will emotionally manipulate people to drink my porridge. If they refuse I will lament, “Woii first it was the blogs now its the porridge and yams. Eat it. Eat it . Or i will put a 2000 year old curse in this village.” They will fear the old woman who walks with a brown stick and wears kaftans like a monk.

My grandchildren wedding vows will be an exerpt from my blogs. My children will probably be abroad, running away from reading them blogs but sending enough money for me to buy porridge flour.

Also, I have realised something, I need to find a good way of speaking to my readers . And a good way does not involve threatning their lives. I dunno why everytime I encourage people to read by blogs the words ‘i will sue you’ or ‘there is a penalty’ seem to come up.


The lioness would never wear a sweater even on rainy days. She would always be in a crop top and spotting a navel ring.

Gazelle would always be staring at its reflection on the river. Admiring its beauty. Other animals coming by the river would drink to thier fill and leave ‘gaz’ there. Gaz is her nickname.

Buffalo would have a huge instagram following flaunting them thick thighs. #thickthighssavelives.

The hare, the ever cunning hare would be one of girls who call with a plotted mission on mind. Occassionally saying things like, “twende atubaiye lunch then tumtoke.”

The giraffe would be a supermodel. Long legs flat tummy, rocking big loops and only eats from the high table. Giraffe would be hanging out in high end areas with the NBA players. Everygirl would want to be like giraffe.

The zebra would be the versace of thier time. Providing clothes designs that break unbroken records. Every celebrity animal would want to wear zebras brand.

The Bees would be the women scorned always bitter and never shutting up. Every minute they are buzzing on your ear. Stinging at every insult.

But most importantly, these women at the end of the day will have found their chair. That is , something that makes them happy. Everyone needs to find something that makes them happy in life.


I am concerned church watchdog. I also double as a whistle blower.

Also bear with me.

There people who can never put down their phone. You see them everywhere in the matatus, supermarkets, classrooms , offices and other areas. You will also find them in the church. Always sitting at the end of pew yet they know they are servants of their phone.

Every five minutes they be stepping over the faithful servants of God who came to worship. Saying things like,

“Es-cuse me. Thankyou. Es-cuse please.”


If you must attend to every phone buzz, seat closest to door. Period.

Another breed of people who need deliverance is the fashion critics.

“Bibi ya chairman leo…aii hio nguo apana.”

This is not a runway. Its not a meeting point for the highest ranked models in town to meet up. Its a place of worship where the humble servants of the Lord gather . Oh and by the way, they come from different social classes. Let people worship in peace. People could be struggling with financial crisis , and need a little tenderness.

These people who convert church to a market place. Selling coloured information AKA mushene, dont you fear Jesus ooh? Dont you see what he did to those pharisees who made the temple of God a market place. He channeled the inner GSU in him and beat them mercilessly. There is plenty of time after church for information exchange.

Letting the choir sail alone. Sing with the choir, jump with them , show them life. Some of you be letting the choir sing their lungs out alone and you cant even offer them some water from your perfect dasani bottles. This is habit that needs a demise.

Maruta (contributions). They should be written down and stored with care. Approaching members of the congregation after church saying things like,” I lost the money,” is very suspiscious. How do you loose church money? How does this always happen to specific people? Why was it not announced officially in church? Please , please we are tired.

Which other habits do you think people should quit in church?


I love youtube more than life itself but with the great love of youtube comes the price of buying bundles.

So I purchased the 2GB bundle with a 100 shillings and what do I get , ksh 15.00 telkom bonus and 5 ksh any network bonus.

Such things as this network bonus must take a thorough consideration from the company management.

“Today we must gift a Warukira Hinga somewhere.” The boss says.


“But boss, she doesnt even call she awaits an incoming call. We should give it to someone more deserving” a Warukira Hinga hater interludes.


“We do not judge here… we love our customers for who they are.” The boss is merciful and careful with his words. The boss also knows the mission and vision of the company.


Ding ding a message arrives. I am the lucky winner NIMESHINDA! NIMESHINDA!- I exclaim . They have handpicked me in a sea of other telkom users who also got gifted the same offer.

I actually feel special . They thought of me. Stop it Telkom, stooop it. I mean it, stop.

Yaani, am just here trying to revive my bored day with bundles but my luck is yet to be unleashed.

Firstly, where I come from firstly is good English. So firstly, my friends without the telkom line this is why I don’t call because if I do , how long should the talk be? If I call to speak of the bonus wont the bonus terminate before I even tackle the reason for calling. Say I call my friend(without a telkom line) who sells good dresses , as we indulge in the trade process the kikuyu in me starts to bargain, wont the call cut off and leave her thinking I have agreed to the initial price. You see the risk right?

This is just an appeal, telkom atleast add the kabonus(kabonathi in kikuyu) to ten bob any network bonus or my frens, buy a telkom line. Or my amigos download the IMO app.

P.S, forget the hater I call ALL THE TIME.ALL. THE .TIME.

By the way for those I have gone to school with, I dont see you comment academically- impressive devices used. I love the satire. The dialogue is minimal, improve. Good lead. Use similies and metaphors next time. You have punctuated poorly revise your notes. Something like that.


“Warukira, right?” A voice distracts me from my reverie.

Yes thats me. I’m named after a kikuyu hero. Her tales in the lands of Othaya are told from time to time. It was her kindred heart , her value of the family unit that garnered her the title of a good woman. Her hardwork is without compare -am told she planted arrow roots that were the model example for other lands. She had a super power, she was a good listener. In a world where people take pleasure in speaking non-stop, she chose to be a listener. No-one dares speak ill of her. Her death was a shock. You imagine death would fear to touch heros. You imagine the cup of life and time would be hers for eternity.

I inherited the name Warukira from my grandmother and in her own way she was a superhero , as told by my relatives and her friends.

I speak of her now because I want to caution anyone that I know either by blood, water, socially, economically, enviromentally, voluntary or involuntary, blackmail or no blackmail, expect this-

If you see me somewhere walking or simply minding my business and you come say hallo, I will stop you right there and ask if you have read my blog. If you havent I will stand over your shoulder as you read word by word. Supervised. Why you ask? I have a legacy to follow through. Warukiras are and will be the heros of this nation.

If you try to intervene I will quote the 200 books I have read. I will say, kenya ails because of poor readership. I just made that up.

I will cry real tears and people will think you’ve done me wrong. A mob will gather and I will them force to read. This nation can only prosper from blogs and books. Eh, look at that quote by Warukira herself .

I will go as far as stand in an ongoing traffic and throw printed links of my blog in your faces. Then at night I will disguise myself as robber with a face mask, grab your bags , throw my articles in there and return the bag. By force by fire.

The warukira who preceeded me was a force to reckon when it comes to homily affairs, this 5’2 ft tall light coloured one can read and write, the one after us will be the president.