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 third generation liquor that they imbibed in the name of “kuruka mwaka.” (Read: ‘TIS THE SEASON FOR ASININE END-YEAR JAMBOREES {MERRY CHRISTMAS COMRADES})


Illustration: Joe Ngari

At the beginning of last year, my old man, Grandpa Richard, had a shuddery nightmare of how 2015 would pan out. In his dream, the old man foresaw eerie stuff, like human garages being set up by the Chinese for skin lightening and breast enlargement, words such as “MILF” and “nyenyenye” being added to the Oxford Dictionary, Kenyans migrating to Jupiter due to over-population caused by unbridled fornication, and beer overtaking water as the most consumed beverage in Kenya. (Read:- AN OLD MAN’S FEARS FOR 2015)

While his predictions might not have been as accurateas those of the famed Gikuyu seer Mugo wa Kabiro, the year still turned out to be a disaster. In January, a comrade had the chutzpah to insult the President (Read:- Only a fool would insult the president), and it was all downhill from then on. The year ended on an unpleasant note, with my comrades being accused of fanning global warming by being perpetually on heat and smoking marijuana. (Read:- CLIMATE CHANGE? BLAME THE HEAT ON MY COMRADES)

And so, last night as the rest of my comrades were keeping asinine vigil to welcome the New Year, I had a dream (never mind how I managed to beat the deadline for getting this article to print). And unlike my old man’s nightmare, mine was a sweet dream filled with peaches and cream. I dreamt about 2016.

In my dream, my comrades turned away from their amoral ways and embraced common sense and decency. They admitted that stupidity had been slowly but surely decimating them, before renouncing it with the same zeal a Christian convert renounces the devil. For the sake of future generations and their own cerebral hygiene, my comrades decided to turn over a new leaf.

In my dream, betting websites became bankrupt as my comrades chose not to wager their future in pipe dreams and easy money. Instead, they put their money in bank accounts with compound interest and when the urge to double their money came up, they simply took up a second job. (Read:- BETTING ON FOOTBALL? HOW SILLY!)

In my dream, Grandpa Richard’s blood pressure finally stabilised as he retired from this thankless and onerous job of advising my comrades. In the past, it has seemed as if he was playing the litungu (traditional string instrument) for goats, but in 2016 my comrades finally listened and embraced the light.

In my dream, there was no use for this column since all my comrades had become saints. As such, I closed shop and my editors were kind enough to let me start a new column where I wrote about more serious matters such as the Syrian crisis, the Kenyan economy, Al-Shabaab and even the Eurobond.

Make my dream come true, comrades.


Lukorito Jones

When I'm not busy chasing around stories for my quasi-journalism career, you'll find me dabbling in fiction and perfecting my deer-dancing and goat-screaming skills.


  1. Just wondering what would happen if this dream would one day come true!!!Too scary!!

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