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Tuesday, May 29, 2012
I never look forward to Mondays
I'll take one shot for my pain
One drag for my sorrow
Get messed up today
I'll be okay tomorrow
Singing about liquor is not really a way to progress, but it helps me boot on Monday Mornings.
Cause my job's got me going nowhere
So I ain't got a thing to lose
Take me to a place where I don't care
This is me and my liquor store blues("Liquor Store Blues" (Bruno Mars feat. Damian Marley))
Monday has always been my worst as far back as is possible to remember.
Our music teacher wanted us to make musical instruments. We
had options. You could make a flute from bamboo, shakers from bottle caps, burned
in fire then straightened out. Or you could makea wandindi- it is a kind of a guitar with a
drum base made out of stretchedskin. A
shakerwouldhave been easy but bottle caps were hard to
The main brew then
was Shibuku, which came in yellowplastic bottles, the kind that is used for battery water now. I had
rabbits, but mine were pets, about 25 of them, they had names too so
slaughtering oneto get the skinwas out of the question. The only timeI had some slaughtered waswhen ants invade the hatchesand ate them alive. So I needed bamboo.
No one grew bamboo in my area. The closest bamboo plantation
was kirangi. Kirangi waspart of the Aberdareforest where some squatters planted cabbage
interlacedwith ganja forest
conservation they called it.
I hada classmate lived
in that direction nearby so one Sunday afternoon we decided to go search
forthe accursed raw material thatcould make music. To say it was a 50km walk
would not be a big exaggeration, and by the time I got back home, grandmother
wanted to skin me. Worse, the cowshad
broken into the farms and fed on a good number of corn heads, the rest had been
carried away by baboons. Two of the young bulls were bloated, and while the
village vet wasbasking in his glory
after carrying out a major surgery-piercing their abdomens to let out the air,
I run in horror to the back of the house to find my uniform wet from the afternoon
rain. A calf had chewed on the sleeve of my good sweater too.
In those days,
children didn’t get depression and high blood pressure and such, it was
simplified in one term- rung’athio- I got atelling off from cucu for having- rung’athio- the followingMonday morning. I had barely finished my tea
when the whistle went off- my neighbor alwayswhistled twice to say-ukaga- meaning unless you fly you will find us
If Damian Marley and Bruno Mars had had their liquor store
blues single then, I’d have sold all my earthly treasure, rabbitsand library and bought a ticket. Coz you can
imagine how it felt when I realized I didn’t pack my lunch, nor the hastily
strange thing, is that as I post this, about midnight, the egesa- the pub in the neighbourhood is playing that same song-... I bet I'll sleep soundly then.