Articles from my weekly column in Daily Nation’s ZuQka
An ardent reader of this column, Mr. Michael Hatego, recently wrote to me mourning his watchman and his newspaper vendor. I felt his pain, because I know how hard it is to get a decent newspaper guy for my old man, Grandpa Richard. The deaths, Mr. Hatego noted, resulted from…
Like a broken record, I have been ranting and raving against abuse of drugs by my comrades for two years now. I have fought tooth and nail to see my comrades shun deleterious substances such as boiled marijuana, liquefied miraa and second generation hooch. It now seems like my comrades…
Your hard work in secondary school paid off and you made it to university. You are elated, sure that this is the beginning of a future with endless possibilities. Since home is too far from school, it only makes sense to board – this will be the first time you…
As narrated to: Lukorito Jones jowal@jowaljones.com www.jowaljones.com My name is Doreen Bruno Karugi. I am 22 years old. On Thursday, 2nd April 2015, gunmen stormed our university from 5am. Official reports at the end of the day indicated that 148 people had been killed. The attack, it was said, was…
If you’re an ardent follower of my column, you might recall that a couple of months ago my old man, Grandpa Richard, had vowed to throw his TV set out the window the next time any of my comrades shows up on primetime news. Well, a fortnight ago he…
Amidst the usual smut and common-place party videos that would make Kenya Film Classification Board Chairman, Ezekiel Mutua, throw up his lunch, a more disturbing clip was shared widely by my comrades early this week. The video was surreal, strange and made my head my head spin. It (allegedly) captures…
My old man, Grandpa Richard, has always questioned the viability of student loans disbursed by the government. While he is all up for helping my comrades pay for their tuition, he is concerned that a huge chunk of that money usually ends up in their pockets instead. “This facilitates them…
My old man, Grandpa Richard, is a prophet who rarely gets appreciated at home. While we should be composing songs in his honour and naming our children (both boys and girls) after him, we instead often choose to ignore the erudite greybeard and his sagacious advice. For exactly two years now,…
Tucked within the pages of this newspaper’s Sunday edition was a tear-jerking story touching on my comrades. But then again, when it comes to my comrades, no news is hardly ever good news. I long for a day when I’ll be chronicling inspirational and heart-lifting tales concerning this lot of…
Two years ago, my old man, Grandpa Richard, suspected that something extremely fishy was going on with my comrades. Relying on his extensive experience in rodent-sniffing, the greybeard smelled a fat and overfed rat among my colleagues and approached me to assist him blow the whistle. “Why don’t you do…
My old man, Grandpa Richard, is on the record urging my comrades to stop consuming blogs that trick them into believing they actually know things, when all they’re filled with are conflicting opinions, warped ideologies, and sleazy photos from the Masaku Sevens. (Read: JACKS OF ALL TRADES; MY COMRADES SPEAK TOO…
Last week was a sad time for all of us. The Kenya Youth Survey Report stated that evils such as corruption and lack of integrity have struck our youths like a thunderbolt. Our youths, as it turns out, are malignant, uncouth, morally corrupt and, get this, cursed. In case you…
My old man, Grandpa Richard, has always held the view that our higher education system is shambolic, topsy-turvy and—gets this—cursed with an evil eye. When he first made these claims, comrades flooded my mailbox and twitter timeline with all forms of contemptuous epithets, crying baloney and saying that his opinions…
My comrades are cruising at 200 kilometres per hour in the wrong direction. We are hurtling at neck-breaking speed towards the edge of the cliff, and nobody seems to be willing to apply the brakes and save us all from tumbling over. If my column today reads like a piece…
EARLY THIS WEEK, I found myself tongue-tied trying to explain to my old man, Grandpa Richard, what a hashtag is. In the past, I have tried, amid abashing stutters, to elucidate to the dignified greybeard the meaning of new fangled terms such as MILF, twerking, and more recently, Team Mafisi.…
Happy New Year, comrades. If you’re reading this, you’re one of the seven comrades with a good noggin between their ears. The rest of your colleagues are too inebriated to even wake up from the trench they slept in last night, let alone read the morning paper. Blame this on the…
Arise and shine comrades. My old man, Grandpa Richard, has asked me to wish you a merry Christmas from the bottom of his humongous heart. He has also asked me to clarify to you that Christmas is a holiday whereby Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus. Not a day set…
After years of pillaging and plundering Mother Nature with reckless abandon, the heat has finally caught up with humankind—literally. Worried that we might be one match-stick strike away from burning into crisp, the entire world converged at Paris where our leaders held heated (pardon the pun) discussions to prevent the Earth…
My old man, Grandpa Richard, will never get to wrap his head around some of the things Generation X do. We cannot fault him, though, for old dogs seldom learn new tricks. Take dating, for example. Grandpa still holds firm his belief that cupid deserted the youngsters ages ago, leaving…
There’s a new sheriff in a nearby town and his name is John Pombe Magufuli. The Tanzanian President has taken Africa by storm, providing a breath of fresh air where taking in foul air is the norm. Provided you don’t live under a rock, you’ve probably heard about Mr Magufuli’s…
A little over a month ago, world leaders met at the UN to deliberate on the new Sustainable Development Goals. I particularly took a liking to the fifth item on the list, namely gender equality. When I got the opportunity to chew the rag over dinner with Grandpa Richard about…
His Holiness Pope Francis, If you have been observant in the past two days, you must have noticed that Kenya is a country with low collective self-esteem. It may seem that but don’t be fooled, we have got no self-esteem at all. That is why we keep embarrassing and shooting…
In a culture where people flaunt and strut their privates at the drop of a hat, someone pushed the envelope and made a putrid five-minute nude film. Kenyans, my comrades included, got blazing-hot under the collar and wanted to have the DJ’s head for breakfast. He had committed a capital…
After US President Barack Obama’s recent visit to Kenya, my old man, Grandpa Richard, was a jolly man. However, his hopes of leaving behind a better Kenya for his grandchildren have been dashed over the past few days. His moods have nosedived from the tower of optimism to the basement…
It is not often that one is invited to the high-table. Sharing a meal with my old man, Grandpa Richard, is therefore a privilege. The opportunity to drink from his bottomless well of wisdom is one to kill for. His mercurial nuggets of wisdom are always enough to transform even…
In a land where people eat politics for breakfast and dinner, we’ve been busy praying for showers of blessings to descend upon our politicians. Seeing that the sun has been in its full wattage lately, my old man, Grandpa Richard, decided he’d pray for literal showers instead. If what the…
Student leadership has gone rogue, according to my old man, Grandpa Richard. To him, the current leadership style portrayed by student leaders is simply a cancer that has metastasised from mainstream political leaders and needs to be excised urgently. “During my time, student leaders demonstrated visionary headship that inspired not…
My old man, Grandpa Richard, is extremely disgruntled. Our beloved country, whose values he has fought tooth and nail to protect, is steadily going to hell in a hand-basket. Our morals and values are sinking faster than the Kenyan shilling; anarchy is threatening to become the order of the day.…
The entire hamlet is in a celebratory mood. Word that you’ll be reporting to university in early September spread fast. You are supposed to be over the moon, but the stuff you’ve been reading in Jowal Jones’ column makes you a little wary about college. “How will my freshman year…
Very few occasions have managed to make my old man, Grandpa Richard, as happy as he was while watching television on Tuesday morning. It was the grand homecoming of Kenyan athletes who had taken no prisoners while representing us at the IAAF championships in Beijing, China. Team Kenya had bestrode…
A fortnight ago, I made it clear that I won’t be wasting an atom of my grey matter deliberating on the Mollis audio clip. Quoting former President Daniel Arap Moi, I was convinced, and justifiably so, that such matters do not have the ability to add ugali on my plate.…
The mood in the air over the weekend was exhilarating; almost intoxicating with energetic hoopla as the most powerful man on earth paid us a visit. My old man, Grandpa Richard, had his fingers crossed fearing that my comrades would make true their asinine threats and proceed to commit despicable…
You spent the past three weeks or so covered in a fine layer of dirt, but somehow you’ve decided to break the unholy pact you had set with the devil about crucifying hygiene. Today you took a historic bath and actually brushed off the ubiquitous previous week’s miraa from your…
You couldn’t have been more wrong if you thought that the chaps locked up in that asylum along Thika Road are Kenya’s mentally challenged. The real mentally profane are actually found in our institutions of higher learning; those at Mathari have simply been misread. My old man, Grandpa Richard, is…
We, the comrades from Kenya’s institutions of higher learning, stand united today in condemnation of the recent directive issued by the President against alcohol manufacturers and consumers. The directive, which has seen both legitimate and comrade-friendly illegitimate beer destroyed in the past few days, has plunged us into a state…
The previous week has seen my comrades’ moral fibre come under heavy scrutiny from a number of sources. Instead of opening books and spreading knowledge, my comrades of the fairer sex have run the gauntlet of social media for allegedly opening legs and spreading syphilis, once again. The campus diva…
There might have been a time when my comrades were a civilised lot. But when that was nobody remembers; it must be when we were hunters and gatherers. Every evening my old man, Grandpa Richard, switches his TV to news about our generation that always consigns him to the clinic…
The comrades’ budget for the next financial year was released last week at a rowdy gathering attended by raucous students from Kenya’s different institutions of higher learning. Read out by a slovenly student leader, the budget, which surpassed many people’s expectation by being over 140 characters long, detailed how comrades…
There’s nothing in the world that beats the feeling of having to share a meal with my old man, Grandpa Richard. I always look forward to such rare occasions as he recounts stories from the halcyon days when night-runners didn’t arm-twist the government to recognize them and Instagram was yet…
It is fair to say that she has made a few terrible mistakes in her 21 years on planet Earth. To her, life has opened up wounds so painful that no surgeon can stitch, caused cracks so big that no mason can fill and conjured a crime so dire that…
A week ago, popular columnist Njoki Chege shook the blogosphere with a piece that claimed today’s cohort of young men has increasingly become spineless, lazy and ambitionless. She referred to the ill-fated generation as Blueband boys, which I assume was an inference to what they were fed for breakfast while…
Giving credit where it’s due, I must say my comrades are very creative fellows. However, they all seem to apply this creativity in asinine ways such as innovating habits of cheating in exams and inventing new methods of ingesting marijuana.(Read: They’re higher than Kites; these comrades of mine). Until last…
My comrades usually invent the most ludicrous ways in which to “express themselves.” When they’re not being opprobrious to motorists by throwing stones across major highways, you will find them mutilating their skins with anchors and dragon tattoos which they will have the temerity to call art. “Back in the…
Nerea. That’s the title of a song about an eponymous girl, Nerea, who is being urged by her partner not abort his baby. In the beautiful tune by music maestros Sauti Sol featuring Amos and Josh, the partner argues that perhaps the unborn child might end up changing the course…
Last week, CORD launched the Okoa Kenya drive, an initiative that they promise will deliver the country from insecurity, devolution and corruption woos. While welcoming this latest gimmick in Kenya’s political circus, my old man, Grandpa Richard, is of the opinion that politicians are barking up the wrong tree. “If…
I sometimes wish my comrades would introduce me to what they smoke. At times I think to myself that I’ve chronicled all there is to write about my comrades’ asininity, but an even more flummoxing doozy always crops up only to leave Grandpa Richard and I picking our jaws from…
Having let insomnia win in tonight’s war, I have resorted to getting out of bed at 2 am to type this piece. The past few days are taking a rough toll on me, with sleep fleeing because every time I close my eyes, images of Garissa writhing in pain and…
Last week, President Kenyatta delivered a severe kick in teeth to crooked public officials by ordering them to step aside for sixty days in a corruption purge that will see them pave way for investigations. While my old man lauds the move by Mr. Kenyatta, Grandpa strongly feels that the…
My old man, Grandpa Richard, has been heavily criticised by my comrades for allegedly being a sadist. In his defence, Grandpa Richard states that he has indeed scoured my comrades with a fine-toothed comb in an effort to find positivity, but the results yielded were nothing to write home about.…
My old Man, Grandpa Richard, has been reading distressing news from his crystal ball once again. He has foreseen a future whereby comrades have been completely zombied out and their brains wasted. With a terrible visual acuity and disfigured thumbs from playing too many video games, these androids will roam…
Exactly a year ago, Grandpa Richard’s brain was threatening to explode if he didn’t share it with my slightly less intellectually gifted comrades and the entire nation at large. Being a good grandson that I always endeavour to be, I offered to offload his jeremiads against young people in this…
The problem with my comrades, according to Grandpa Richard, is that they pretend to have an opinion of everything under the sun. They act as if they are masters in every discipline available, wherein they grossly misconstrue facts and they are darn wrong. It would be nice if they limited…
The digital era is finally here with us. In its wake however, the migration debacle has wrecked havoc within Kenya’s soul, as opposed to the legion benefits we’d anticipated. It has violated every sacred principle about the right to information that the likes of Dedan Kimathi died for. Watching the…
I recall sometime back when hokum was being peddled around that dirt is good. A sizeable section of my comrades swallowed the malarkey hook, line and sinker. Heck, they even digested the tripe such that it became their DNA to be slovenly and generally walk around looking like a sack…
Tomorrow the world comes to a standstill. It is a day that is bound to bring forth both disappointments and goodness in equal measure. On this day, smiles will be enhanced and migraines will be induced. Promises will be affirmed and many will be broken. Dreams will be relived and…
My old man, Grandpa Richard, started the month on a very poignant note. So cheerless was the old man that if his moods sunk any lower, they’d have struck oil. Grandpa was mourning the death of a beloved childhood friend and companion. So special was the pal that they all…
The other day my old man, Grandpa Richard, summoned me and asked to be briefed on a dim trend he had witnessed while experimenting with social media. “Don’t your comrades have any friends to take photos of them?” He quizzed. “Let me tell you about the selfie- generation Grandpa,” I…
January, the month named after the Roman god, Janus, is already ravaging us like a tornado and volcano combined. Couple this financial maelstrom with the crippling teachers’ strike and the picture isn’t pretty. Curiously, this is the month all my comrades have been waiting for. While everyone else grits their…
My old man, Grandpa Richard, finds it rather comical that a cantankerous comrade of mine had the temerity to insult the President on social media. “Surely, your comrades know no bounds,” observed Grandpa. They would stir up a hornet’s nest even with the highest powers in the land and practically…
Early this year, Grandpa Richard’s brain was threatening to explode if he didn’t share it with my slightly less intellectually gifted comrades and the entire nation at large. Being a good grandson that I always endeavour to be, I offered to offload his jeremiads against young people in a newspaper…
School’s out so my comrades are on the loose My comrades have just been paroled from the schooling system and like the proverbial chicken, they’re all jostling for tickets at “Machakos Airport”, heading to their respective villages to roost. With the festive season here, Grandpa Richard is dreading the unfolding…
There is a saying, “Every cloud has a silver lining”. In this dark cloud of comradeship, the silver lining has a way of showing up for only two or so weeks, at the tail end of every semester. Choppy change is observed among university students as they recess from asininity…
When Grandpa Richard last entertained the thought of joining social media, he was spooked by the use of yellow smileys that are threatening to replace words as the standard means for written communication. It was really unnerving for the old man to have sentences winking and leering at him. His…
I don’t exactly run an agony aunt column (mine is more of agonised lad) for my gormless comrades, but many are the times they flood my mailbox seeking for wisdom which is in short supply these days. Last week a missive by a lass, whom we’ll call Ann*, caught my…
Violence against women and sexual assault are crimes not only punishable by the litigious whip of our law, but also by the crack of Grandpa Richard’s severe cane. Its perpetrators will find their comeuppance both in Kamiti Prison and the fifth and sixth chambers of hell. For those who were…
My old man, Grandpa Richard, is a deeply religious man who will not profess the theory of evolution even if you held his feet on fire. Lately however, he has been cracking books about the likes of Australopithecus and the old man is spooked by eerie similarities between my slovenly…
My old man, Grandpa Richard, has spent a significant part of his old age visiting the chiropractor and studying the peculiar species that are my comrades. Both are extremely daunting tasks, but the latter is more agonising to his soul. The retiree is, however, taking it all in his stride…
The problem with my comrades is that they are financially illiterate. The concepts of working for their own money, saving and re-investing seem to be alien notions completely foreign to the comrades. Mix this witch’s brew with their economic warts such as gambling boisterously and spending in a slapdash fashion …
My old man, Grandpa Richard, recalls in nostalgia the good old days when comradeship meant positive vibe and goodness to the entire country. In the halcyon days, university students were revered as they mapped the way on which the entire nation treaded. They often opposed evil and stood for what…
It really chaps my shorts when I’m in a conversation with a comrade and they have to incessantly fiddle with their phones. Mostly I just walk away, only for them to get angry and say that I need to behave. The irony! Cell phone decorum has sunk to a Brobdingnagian…
For a solid six months now, I have been chronicling my comrades’ problems running the entire gamut from fornication to laziness and even drug and substance abuse. Grandpa Richard and I have offered nuggets of wisdom here and there, but it all seems to be falling on deaf ears. This,…
A fortnight ago, the blogosphere was awash with the news that a degenerate comrade, oblivious of all notions of decency, privacy and morality, had released a dossier of 90 other comrades she had infected with HIV. Like every other person, I am tired of the sleaze that provides fodder to…
So this one time my old man, Grandpa Richard, decided to pay me an impromptu visit in campus. I decided to hang out with him at the shopping centre, a nice open place where hungry people like to eat. I immediately regretted my decision when two comrades, a slovenly unkempt…
Dear Comrades, Contrary to popular misconception, Grandpa Richard is actually a loving and caring man with a heart the size of a range-rover. He’s genuinely concerned about your health. When it comes to nutritional intelligence, grandpa thinks you comrades are just learning how to make fire. That’s why he has…
Thousands of years to come, when historians will be chronicling events from the current epoch, they are sure to reserve copious pages for a peculiar batty creature that lived in Kenyan universities. They will discover that this feral organism, known simply as comrade, was always fraught with myriad problems. But…
There appears to be a ubiquitous shortage of respect among my comrades. It is a generation that bears not even a squat of reverence towards their elders, the law or even vengeful God. Heck, they even don’t have self-respect! If this insidious trend keeps up, bad things will happen. Grandpa…
My erudite old man, Grandpa Richard, is of the opinion that referendums are like diamond rings; you can only afford a few of them in your lifetime. He is quite apprehensive with the way our leaders want to trash the current constitution with alacrity even before the ink used to…
A maddening cacophony of discordant sounds is what greets you if you venture into any residence inhabited by college students. My comrades feed on asinine music, played at decibels so high that it is a wonder their heads don’t blow up left, right and centre. Their music, loud enough to…
A few weeks ago, a noble suggestion was mooted that university students be clothed in uniforms. In their usual fashion of opposing everything that has a lick of common sense, my comrades received the proposal with hue and cry. “The reprehensible nonsense that passes for dressing nowadays is a brazen…
They say a critic is more effective if he also offers solutions, and last week Grandpa Richard and I did our part in arresting the downward spiral among my comrades by teaching them how to become employable. It has however come to our attention that my comrades do not know…
The problem with my comrades, according to Grandpa Richard, is that very few of them are actually employable. All they seem to be good at is snooze, booze and get tattoos. After holding a comprehensive dialogue with the old man, we’ve come up with some tips for my comrades which…
There is a weird trend slowly gaining ground among campus reprobates that’s giving me the willies. It is a curious blend of self-destruction and asininity; an unexplainable macabre desire to mutilate one’s body by perforating every single orifice. Pray, why would one choose to add 18 extra holes onto their…
One of the best indicators that our country might never achieve vision 2030 is the declining reading culture among my comrades. This is a sorry generation that would never touch the Encyclopedia Britannica with a ten-foot pole. I know you’re asking how it is possible for people to be university…
The World Cup is here with us. In its wake, it has brought about increased raucousness and alcohol imbibing in copious amounts among my comrades. It is also keeping them awake past the midnight, something that does not quite sit well with my old man, Grandpa Richard. You’d think that…
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about how my comrades will do anything, even sip Countryman, just to get attention. Recently, a comrade vindicated me on national television. No, she did not imbibe the killer brew, although some might argue it would have been better if she had gulped…
My comrades have a bright future. I wish that were a compliment but sadly, it isn’t. This is because their future is bright in its literal sense. To think that mutilating their skins with asinine tattoos wasn’t enough, comrades have gone a step further to insult genetics by bleaching their…
It seems that morals and common-sense are not the only things that have fled from my comrades. Cupid too has joined the bandwagon and deserted the youngsters, leaving behind a generation devoid of courtship values, romance and a squat of true love. Relationships among my comrades are like houses built…
There are only two things in Kenya that are of a greater security threat than Al-shabaab, and my comrades are both of them. This is because campus students, all jazzed up with alcohol and flagrant disregard of the law, have decided that there is no other way in which conflicts…
The problem with my comrades is that they are all obsessed with fame. Now, while I have no qualms with people seeking to become famous by making a noticeable contribution to the society, it really chaps my shorts when comrades pursue fickle attention in amoral ways. Have you been to…
When my old man Grandpa Richard was younger, they never took time off to snooze, booze or get tattoos. They were too busy engaging on more productive forms of art, like dancing to theIsukuti and carving out calabashes. And when they did indulge themselves in some mindless skin defacing schemes,…
The problem with my comrades is that they’re lazy and lack foresight. The semester in several campuses just came to an end, and I asked a comrade of mine what he plans to do for the five months he’ll be on holiday. I couldn’t believe my ears when he replied…
Whoever came up with the expression ‘Politics is a dirty game’ must have been an observer of campus elections. This is because my comrades’ p rimal nature never shines brighter than when they are electing their next bunch of leaders. During this period, comrades are ever volatile, highly charged, and…
While attending an alumni function at a local university, my old man Grandpa Richard accidentally walked into the institution’s students’ centre and immediately froze on his tracks. What the pensioner saw shocked him to the core. My comrades were flailing around like retarded rabbits hopped up on rabies and hormones,…
“Xaxa Xweewy, aki am xo xowy…” Apologies for starting my column in Chinese. Believe it or not, that was a text message one of my comrades sent me this morning. I have spent the past three hours trying to decipher the Morse, but all I have gained is a grueling…
My comrades are on drugs. They’re hopped up on ecstasy, hyped by vodka, topped up on Cannabis Sativa, puffing on sheesha and acting like a bunch of marauding dim-wits on a midterm break from the Mathare Institute of the Insanely Profane. It is disgraceful and makes me really furious. You…
If you are walking nearby any institution of higher learning in Kenya and would wish to enjoy a freak-show for free, grab yourself some popcorn from the nearest vendor and pay close attention to the weirdo hairstyles that students sport. I would advise you to put on sun-glasses though, for…
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