BY FLORENCE BETT
#1. That Jingle
There’s this jingle Citizen plays when it’s broadcasting the results. You know it?
GB turned on the TV Friday morning and groaned with boredom when he heard it again. I chuckled from the bedroom. That jingle brings back some unwanted nostalgia.
Then those profile pics: Uhunye with his glossy lips and Rao’s strained smile, Jirongo seems wasted and Wainana wants to sell you insurance.
Ann Kiguta also got a new weave and eyebrows to match. And the pimple under her left eye that her make-up artist had been struggling for weeks to cover up, finally went away.
#2. Cabin Fever
I was at loose ends with myself.
I was reading another book by David Nicholls which seemed to get longer with each page. In between the read, I ate far too many carbs than I allow myself to – chapos, pancakes, my birthday cake. I didn’t hydrate.
I straightened my closet. Considered organizing our filing. Trimmed Muna’s high top. Drank half a cask of white wine. Caught some episodes of Chef’s Table and Abstract (again!). Binge watched on local YouTube content (I heard the phrase ‘Hey guys, welcome back to my channel!’ so many times I was gravelled).
#3. Social Experiment
On the Saturday before the polls, I was at Explorer meeting my pal for a drink, I dropped my phone in the washroom and it went kaput. I may have been tipsy.
I was purposefully off the radar until Election Day and took this downtime to run a social experiment: How many of my people will notice my silence and shake this city loose to find out if I’m OK? Guess how many did?
I’m now rocking this new, uhm, device that’s made me understand – quite painfully – what user experience truly means. Full storo on my Instagram.
#4. An impromtu detour
There’s this energy I get from walking alone around Adams then Toi Market which I don’t get from doing anything else. I don’t even have to buy stuff, just waltz around like some sun-burned tourist and ask prices and absorb the energy of these hustlers (I hate that word, by the way).
The market was deserted that weekend.
I wish I could tell you that I took photos and interviewed folk to collect some useful on-the-ground opinions about the repeat Election, but I didn’t – all I got were some funky brown workman boots for a steal.
I’m a year late catching this Disney flick. I caught it the first time with GB then, days after, several scenes alone, on my laptop. This movie is more than sing-alongs and gazelle eyes. Much more.
I later researched and learned a great deal about the islands in the Pacific and their gods and the Long Pause.
One Polynesian professor gave a caustic review which basically said that “ Disney doesn’t have the cultural depth to tell our stories.” I took that term to heart: cultural depth.
Can we tell our Kenyan stories the way Disney told Moana’s?