It could never be me.

That’s what we think when we hear about the coronavirus right? At least for some people.

It could simply be our hopeful thinking or maybe, just our naivety onto how the universe really works. Evil and tragic events seem so far stretched. Of course no one wants to contract a deadly virus, we simply think ‘those things don’t happen to people like me’ until they actually do.

We very well know that as a country, we are NOT prepared at all to deal with the coronavirus. As a coping mechanism, Kenyans, being helpless most times, do what they do best; get to social media and rant on twitter, complain about the government and make memes like we always do during all kind of tragedies.

I can’t speak for the government or the Kenyans. But I can speak for my people, ‘the anxious society of Kenya’ (don’t google it, it doesn’t exactly exist). So, since the start of the virus, my mother has woken me up severally in my sleep, as early as 4 a.m. in the morning so that I can listen to an audio, a video or a WhatsApp message about the Corona virus. A few times, the messages had claims that the virus was already in our country but the patients are being treated discreetly (This was before the first case was reported). Struggling to keep my eyes open enough to read the blurry messages, my mother says with a finality, ‘Cancel all your meetings. All the events you were to go to. You can’t risk it.’ 

‘Ma…’ I start to object but she immediately interrupts me with how much we are underestimating this virus and how we think ‘it can never be us’. Her tone is really high for morning. You can hear the panic in her voice; alarming, and the utmost frustration in her voice because we still want to go to work despite the ‘danger’. I try to calm her down, recommending her to take a break from Whatsapp because it is, very evidently, hyping up her anxiety.

I am familiar with anxiety because I am my mother’s daughter. But whereas I am 98% anxiety, hers is double that. While I advise her on how to filter the information she receives on the virus, I am texting my friends who are travelling or about to travel, asking again and again if they think it is safe enough to travel at this time, whether they are taking the necessary precautions and if they said their prayers for protection.

Someone out there is walking to their airplane seat, while a panic attack surfaces because now, ‘I am not only scared of a turbulence, I am scared of breathing.’ Another is contemplating on how to humbly reject the hand shake from that very important client who has just flown in from Finland because, ‘Oh my God, do I even know in which continent Finland is? How can I be sure this handshake is indeed safe? Is this million dollar deal worth the handshake?’ Another is at the airport to pick their relative coming in from Middle East and the thought is, ‘Would they be offended if I refused to hug them?’ 

It is a crazy time to be alive let alone be moving around. 2020 came in with a huge wave, full of tragedies.

Image result for 2020, world war 3 threats, kobe died, Australian bushfire, earthquake, coronavirus-meme

Well, it’s just March and we all want to know; who pissed off 2020 like this?!!

I mean, even pilgrimage to Makkah by Muslims has been paused for now. That is something that will definitely go down in the books of history because throughout my entire short life I never heard of Makkah rejecting pilgrims apart from the times the place was too crowded to accommodate everyone. As it is, masajids are being closed temporarily and Jum3ah prayers are cancelled. Makkah prayers are being led with very few ma’mumas. The thought that Ramadhan might arrive on us while still handling the virus is so heartbreaking 🙁 Imagine a Ramadhan with no taraweh or tahajjud prayers. Imagine having no spiritual gatherings and iftaar for the entire month!! Everything seems to be at a standstill. Olympics might be cancelled!! Several other sporting events have already been cancelled or postponed. The global economy is being greatly affected. Traveling is now an extreme sport, yet the very low ticket prices seem to be so tempting. The best yet riskiest time to travel, aye? Some people are actually doing it! Others are rejoicing in their PJ’s as they work from home while students enjoy having classes being cancelled for about an entire month!

Nonetheless, as every day passes, we realize how real this pandemic is.

Yet, have you ever thought of how much rougher it is for the Asians right now, ALL OVER THE WORLD? They not only have to deal with the virus but also with the stigma and racism due to the origin of the virus. The dilemma is; how do we protect ourselves without seeming racist? Where do we draw the line between seeking protection and being out-rightly racist?! (Something to ponder on)

When the year began and everyone was frantic about it, one of my lecturers studying in China sent us a video to assure us that she was safe and far from the affected areas and that the main limitation was having to stay indoors and everything being done online at the moment. This could be very well a horror movie, only it is real life. Pretty much like ‘The Bird Box’ only this time, the mask is on our noses/mouths instead of eyes.  ‘If you touch it, you die.’

While the whole world is panic buying masks, toilet papers and sanitizers, we too as Kenyans have joined the bandwagon. But other than that, we are investing our time into our greatest talent; making memes!! Here are some memes sourced from: https://eaglenewskenya.com/

Image may contain: one or more people, possible text that says 'Corona virus: s:*gets into Kenya.* Locusts: @fantacymemes Look at me. I'm in Charge here.'
Image result for kenyan memes on world bank and corona
Image result for italy: lockdown, kenya: don't panic, wash your hands

Best of all, is this video clip of the shortest horror movie! (Not made in Kenya)

The other day I was in a public vehicle and had a scratch in my throat. I had the urge to cough but I could visualize how heads would turn towards me if I did. And the horror that would strike them after that. To cut the long story, I did not cough. And now with us Kenyans, we don’t even know how we will survive. In some areas there is lack of water, the matatus are usually filled to the brim, many Kenyans live in slums or very close neighbourhoods. We can’t afford to work from home because majority of Kenyans are casual labourers and need to go to their work places. We have so many people who are vulnerable and at high risk of contracting the virus if it keeps spreading.

I imagine all the people living in the affected areas, having to live with only what they have. I imagine those in quarantine. Those who are separated from their loved ones during this phase; maybe forever. The people working in transport industries, airports, the bus/air crew, the really crowded areas like immigration offices. The people working in markets or using public transport or dealing with many people every day and most importantly, our doctors. In short, everyone. It could be us.

We pray that this tragedy ends soon and that we stay protected because for us Kenyans really, it is only God who can help us.

Parting Note: Pray. Pray for the whole world. That this epidemic ends soonest. That 2020 becomes a better year for all of us. Show love to all the doctors, nurses and medics working so hard to contain this virus and who continue to work everyday despite being at higher risk; pray for them too! Wash your hands. Protect yourselves. Don’t panic-buy; think of others. Watch the news from reliable sources. Don’t believe everything you hear until you confirm. Don’t forward messages until you confirm. Don’t be part of the panic perpetrators. Don’t be racist. Reach out to ensure your loved ones are safe. Be grateful for being alive. Avoid crowded areas, don’t be a hero. Stay safe people!

P.N 2: Duas for you because I honestly care:


Thank you for reading! Kindly don’t forget to subscribe below!

Photo Courtesy: https://kiss100.s3.amazonaws.com

When I was studying journalism, I really looked up to John Allan Namu and Mohammed Ali for the investigative journalism they were doing. Their work was commendable! I think it is because I have a drive for solving mysteries, a keen eye for details and finding out the truth. But then I am also an anxious-wreck, and that’s just the most paradoxical combination ever. The time I realize how right I was to not pursue that adrenaline thrill is when terrorist attacks happen. I panic. People get sad. People get angry. People get frustrated. People get killed. I panic. Now I remember when the West gate attack happened, one of my classmates joked about how i’d die without being shot if I ever were in a terrorist attack. Die because of the horror rather than any other kind of harm. Maybe get a cardiac arrest then boom! I’m gone (God forbid). Now imagine if I were covering such a horrible event, I would probably end up being the journalist -not the victim-who ended up with PTSD (Post-traumatic Stress Disorder). How ironic would that be? Going to a therapist all sad and petrified and she asks me gently, ‘where exactly were you when the incident happened?’
‘Oh me? I wasn’t inside the building. I was in the neighbourhood covering the story.’
‘Did you get hurt?’
‘Did you get to see any of the terrorists?’
‘Did you know anyone who was inside?’
She stops scribbling, tilts her head and looks at me from above her specs.
‘Well that doesn’t make sense.’
‘Exactly my point.’
Then we’d have a moment of awkward silence as she contemplates this journalist, really urged to ask whether she was forced into the profession.

It’s always about the thoughts though. Always. Because when a terrorist attack happens, my mind races to picture the people who are in there. I imagine a couple walking in with their travel bags, hand in hand, big smiles on their faces. The lady giggles at something the husband said as they get to the reception to check in. The receptionist asks them how long they’d be in there and they say two weeks. It won’t get to the end of the day.
I imagine a lady in an office swirling in her chair, laughing with Grace who is directly opposite her. They are gossiping about their boss who has been coming with the same clothes the entire week.
I imagine a father on the phone, telling his wife he’d be late so she has to pick the children from school. An argument starts up between them. He slams his phone on the desk.
I imagine a young man running up and down the office trying to impress his soon-to-be bosses. If he does well in his internship, they’d hire him permanently. He wanted the job so badly so he runs and pants like a dog. He will get the job at any cost. Even if it means surviving a terrorist attack.
I imagine two high school friends planning a meet-ups for ages of which they always postpone or cancel. Then one fine day they decide, today we will meet. Today we must meet. Then they start discussing the venue. Then they weigh their options. The closest place for both of them but also a nice place to hang out with a very close friend. Finally they choose their place. The place of their death.
I imagine someone having a bad day, being all grumpy and moody. He turns to his mate and says, ‘I just can’t wait for this day to end’. But the day is just about to begin.

It is strange isn’t it? That on a very random day, some people make their way to a trap, having no idea whatsoever that their lives will be changed forever. Busy working, busy talking, enjoying their meals as terrorists are seated somewhere watching them and pitying these poor people who don’t know what’s about to go down on them. But these terrorists…how do they choose venues? How do they choose the dates? How do they just decide that today, the angel of death will have a party. Do they have any remorse in them? Is there any one of them who is a bit hesitant and says ‘maybe we don’t have to kill them. We could just frighten them.’ And then the colleague asks, ‘Are you chickening out?’ Is there any part of the planning where they think of cancelling or maybe it dawns on them that it isn’t worth it? Do they ever watch the targeted place and see a pregnant woman with a young boy walking through the gates and they hesitate a bit? Or see a man carrying a bag of pampers and think ‘that’s probably a good father he doesn’t deserve to die’? Don’t tell me they are just cold blooded murderers with no emotion at all. Everyone has something that causes a pinch in the heart. Even if it something very tiny that would trigger their emotions and maybe, just maybe make them or just one of them think twice. Or maybe that’s all they are; cold blooded murderers with no affection or compassion whatsoever. Because how else do they go on a shooting spree on very random, normal people?

I remember an Iftar event that I attended some years back and I happened to sit with a lady who was a victim at the Garissa university attack. Well I didn’t know this until a riot started right outside where the iftar was taking place. I could see how uneasy she got. Of course everyone was restless but she was terrified. And then she told me that she was at the university when the attack happened and somehow she survived. By then, quite some months had passed after the attack, but there she was, re-living the nightmare. I can’t imagine how disturbing and horrifying it is for anyone who has experienced such incidents. It is true some heal and move on, but some will forever be looking behind them whenever they walk. Put three locks on their doors. Avoid going outside unless necessary. Avoid popular places. Avoid public places entirely. Never take taxis or ubers. And it is so so sad how a piece of someone’s life and peace of mind will forever be gone.

What’s more sad is when innocent Muslims and Somalis have to pay the price of others’ wrongdoings. The issue of Islamophobia has been going on for quite a while now and just when we think we are making progress in killing the stereotype, terrorists surprise with another heart-breaking event. It is so unfair that other people have to continue to prove their innocence and justify their existence as if they are ‘natural criminals’.

Sincere condolences to all those who lost their loved ones (May their souls rest in peace), and praying a quick recovery to all those who were injured during the recent Riverside attack in Nairobi, Kenya. We shouldn’t forget to thank and pray for all those who helped in any way during the attack; the police, the ambulance personell, Red cross, blood donors and all other unnamed heroes who assisted in any way. Indeed it is only God who can repay them for their bravery and courage.

May God protect our country and our people. May God turn away any human being with evil intentions for us or our people. May we all stay safe. Ameen.

The sun sets beneath the hills that are stretched into the distance as I lazily sit on a couch while I enjoy the spectacular view. “No two sunsets are ever the same,” I soliloquise, enamoured by the ever changing hues of the sky, shifting from gold, to pink and eventually, black.

You see, sunsets make me sad for a variety of reasons and sometimes, for no reason at all.
They make me think of another day wasted with procrastination, beating myself up for not studying or doing some other mundane task. They also make me think of the impending doom that is about to befall this world, as the list of events prophesied over an aeon ago are fulfilled one by one. Other times, it simply reminds me that beautiful things are often fleeting at best, and in the end all men must die. I digress, or so it seems, but that is one of the reasons I love Kenya. The sunsets here are beautiful. A liken Kenya to a mother with over forty children, who fight each other for the biggest piece of meat. Some children are stronger than the others, and so they take from their weaker siblings and share major parts among themselves, leaving the rest starving or dissatisfied. So what do the weaker siblings do? They band against their stronger counterparts with the hopes of taking the meat that they possess and making it theirs. All the while, mama Kenya silently weeps and whispers, “This isn’t what I wanted.”

I’ve always thought of running away to some first world country where I’ll have a better chance of living a good life than here. All the goings on that occur on a daily basis have been met with indifference on my part, because I felt that it didn’t concern me. But now I find myself checking the news and looking up on the country’s economy. I’m curious to know who did what and which firm invested where. I get pissed off when politicians threaten to upset the current peace by inciting violence which once upon a time brought mama Kenya to her knees and almost took her to a point of no return.

It took me a while to realise this but…I actually love my country and care about whatever happens to it. Frankly, Kenya is a messed up country, but it is my messed up country. It’s the place where I was born and raised, where I felt love, joy, anger, sadness and pain. It’s a place I call home. When someone you care about is in a bad state, you try your best to rectify them instead of running away and letting them suffer. I believe we are at a critical point in our country’s future and we need to ensure that nothing happens that will jeopardize this future. If we are to pull off a Singapore and become one of the world’s leading economies, then we really need to put mama Kenya’s wishes ahead of our own and share the meat fairly and equitably, so that all siblings may truly love one another and make their mother proud.

Utu  mkakosa, mkanivunja uti

Mkanilainisha kama poda

Nikawa chakula cha mchwa


Navuma gizani


Majira yakaficha weusi wenu

Mkasihi jumuia isahau


Mkasali kwa sauti gugumizi



Kisu kilichonisafirisha  gizani

Keki chapakua, msimu mtamu tena

Kwa wepesi viuno mwakata

Kinyume cha  rai za nafsi

Mwangwi wa bezo wavuma gizani


Mbaya mimi siko. Mnafuraha?

Mwizi mimi siko. Akiba mnazo?

Simo idadini. Shibe mnayo?

Wageni hawalaumiwi

Utu  haba ni giza.


Burdani ni ua la sumu

Laficha ukweli leo, kesho halimo

Uongo hauna starehe

Kwa miyayo tu, mawimbi yataibua

Uongo mlioficha miongoni.


Navuma gizani, sikio hamna

Vitenge mwajikwatua kote nyajani

Pambio zateleza vinywani

Hatimaye kukaripia ndugu adui

Ndimi. Vumi. Pepo


Ngoma ni tamu, waichezao hawachoki

Wana kiu cha matunda, rangi si hoja

Yawe kijani au manjano

nyayo nyekundu kwa vumbi

zameremeta kama mshale wa moto.


Hatima yangu mwaitamani?

Maficho kwa stesheni

Na chini ya msalaba

Hatimaye kufanywa

Kuni. Kaa. jivu baridi


Je? kama sanda yastiri

Mbona mkanifukia?

Mwaficha nyuso kwa matendo yenu?

Fumbueni macho muone jua

Tiba ni toba


Mtapona lini?

Nasikia nyayo juu ya kifua

Mwakimbiza nani leo?

Jua likitua, mtacheka.

Kesho mtalia.


Shehena ya wivu kinywani

Wakongwe bado wala chumvi



  1. Hili ni shairi huru.
  2. Ritifaa ni sanaa ambayo inahusisha mtu aliyekufa, akiwasiliana na waliohai
  3. Picha kwa hisani ya http://walterastrada.com. Inaonyesha mtu mwenye hamaki kipindi cha 2007/2008,ambapo kulitokea ghasia baada ya upigaji kura

Photo Courtesy: MTY Organization

Hey Amedo,

Assalam aleikum,

I would have said Ahmed but then who recognizes you with that name anymore? Haha, you are all grown Mashallah. I hope that’s how it is spelt? The Mashallah I mean and the assalam aleikum up there…haha what do I know anyway? I’m just this old pal from upcountry living in Mombasa. I remember hearing your parents use such phrases so many times…ah, your parents. I miss them, you know that? I wish they could see how grown and smart you are right now. Your parents and I, we had this special kind of relationship. I bet you wouldn’t remember much though. You were just eight when that unfortunate accident happened right? *Sigh*

When I first came to Mombasa twenty years ago, I remember how warmly I was received by your parents into this neighbourhood. I still remember your dad, tall and lean, with such a loud laughter, welcoming me like I was a long-lost brother. Your mother, on the other hand, prepared dinner for both me and my wife that night. “I bet you are tired,” she said in her shy voice. I was a bit puzzled with the reception. We were different people, different tribes, different cultures, different religions…what could have made them so comfortable to bond with us immediately? My wife was a bit suspicious at first. You know, we had heard of rumours about the Mombasa genies and how witchcraft is so common and human sacrifices are made to become ‘viti’. Well, we never even understood what those viti were. As far as we knew it, viti are chairs. Nonetheless, my wife, she was a bit worried at first. But then by the next three to four months, we had interacted with almost the entire neighbourhood. We came to learn that this is just how Mombasa is. Warm and lovely; feels like home. It is why we decided to remain here longer. We decided, this is the best place to raise our children.

After your parents passed away in the accident, your divorced aunt moved in to take care of you and your younger siblings. Your aunt was another very lovely lady. She is charming and full of life; the kind to hear her voice sweeping the compound as she sang famous taarab songs. She is the one who taught my wife how to cook biriani and pilau and all these tasty coasterian foods. I never get enough of these foods.

It was all going well for us until Timmy died. You remember Timmy don’t you? Sometimes I see you walk by my home and I yearn to talk to you, ask you if you remember him, if you remember how you two used to play football together, or how you used to stay up late playing PS until your dad would come force you out of our homestead. If you remember that your birthdays were only two weeks apart and that today, he would be 22 years old like you are. Perhaps that would lessen how much I miss him. But then every time I want to start up a conversation, I see the lines form on your forehead. I see how quick you respond just so as you can leave, how bothered you seem by just calling out your name. I never understand it. Maybe it’s my age; old folk what does he want? Or maybe my skin colour or maybe you just don’t recognize me anymore. Maybe…the maybe’s are endless.

Timmy…my only son, my lovely boy, died ten years ago. Both of you were just twelve years old. My son, he was killed. Do you remember? Do you remember the shrieks of pain? The screams? The tear gas, the fear, the stones, the chaos? Do you remember the 2007 post-election violence? You were young but you couldn’t forget how Timmy died right? Your best friend, your brother from another mother, could you? There was too much smoke, wails, angry protests and there we were, caught up right at the middle of it all. Our neighbourhood had always been peaceful, serene…what was happening now? How could everyone forget our brotherhood so fast? We were among the few “outcasts” in the compound. After more than ten years in Mombasa, we suddenly became “outcasts” because our skin colour was darker, our mother-tongue accent betrayed us and our features were clearly “not of here” and that was enough reason to have knives stabbed into our bodies. Because of my origin, my vote automatically meant someone and some party, and at that point, my tribe betrayed me, betrayed us all. We were robbed and deeply injured that night…but one more thing, we lost our son.

It took me three months to heal my wounds and my wife’s’ but we still have one wound that will always remain a wound; unhealed and it just has one word, Timmy. Your aunt has been there for us, all this time, for better for worse, just like we stood by her side whenever she couldn’t afford some bread to feed you all. But you worry me. You my son, worry me.

I see how opinionated you’ve become. How strong and firm you are. It is good. But yet it could be dangerous. I see you sit with your mates barazani, I see the fury in your eyes, the anger in your tone. I see you young men discuss politics like this is a battle field and you want to win at whatever cost. I see you argue, I see the clenched fists and the tribalistic insults. I see how your friends look at me, how they purposely shout out “Kila mtu arudi kwao” when I pass by. I see how you all are invested so much in politics you forget you are supposed to be friends. I see how some of you have stopped talking to each other because “he is pro-someone” and you are “anti-them”. I see how much belief and trust you have kept towards these politicians.

I know it is your right to have an opinion, to vote and to be politically affiliated. Yet I want to remind you my son, when your parents died, I was the one who came to your home and took you for the next few nights, I want to remind you that Timmy was your friend despite me and your parents having different cultures and political opinions. I want to remind you that when we were stabbed, it was your aunt who washed off the blood in our house. That she was the one who nursed our wounds like she was paid for it.

I want to remind you, that during those ugly, dark moments it wasn’t my favourite politician who stood by me, by us. It wasn’t my tribe, or my mother-tongue accent that helped me through those difficult times. It wasn’t your favourite politician either. It was you and your people. It was my neighbours, my friends, my associations who have totally different opinions from mine. But we knew that friendship or any other form of relationship should never be sold for the sake of dirty politics. This game is too dirty. My son, I see how you and your friends are too aggressive in this whole politics business, remember, the game is too dirty, too cheap for your hands.

I am so proud of who you are, what you’ve become; an educated focused man who wants change. I guess we all need the change, don’t we? Just never forget that no change comes from animosity, rivalry, hatred or stubbornness. Remember that for better for worse, none of the politicians will be at your doorstep to help you with your personal problems other than your personal friends and relations. I need you to never forget the humanity joining us; these small joyful moments we have shared between us all; as neighbours, as brothers, as co-existing human beings, as people of the Coast, whether by nature or nurture, as people of Kenya. Never forget that we are naturally bonded as humans before politics ever divide us.

This coming election, my son, remember my words. Remember that chaos will never beget change. That your voice in the call of peace is important and necessary. Remember to hold your friends close together, in unity and preach to them peace like you preach politics and politicians. Remember my son, no more bloodshed, no more Timmy’s, no more crying over spilled milk. Let’s all hold hands and pray for peace and unity. Remember we are One Kenya, One people. This elections, as you cast your vote (or not), remember peace, peace, peace!! May God protect us all. God bless Kenya!

Your next door neighbour,
Baba Timmy.


Photo Courtesy: https://youth4developmentkenya.files.wordpress.com

What is more interesting than standing together for Kenya that is united by all means? What is more interesting than a walk that preaches for peace and propagates for unity of all? The Dumisha Amani Peace Walk is a walk organized by MTY organization in conjunction to both MUHURI and Manyunyu community. It will bring together more than 200 youth to propagate the message of peace and unity. The peace walk shall start at treasury square and it will also entail performances by artists, holding hands pledges, peace mascots, security, media coverage and lots of fun, love and unity. Not signed up yet, text 0705 586 076. CHAGUA AMANI!!



Photo Courtesy: I have no idea who has the brains to do this ?

After the surprise release of results and the shock that followed, Matiang’i still remains to be the man of the hour; the man of 2016. Whether we like him or not, we can’t deny that he is irresistible! You just can’t help but adore the man. From when he entered office, we have seen MAJOR changes never seen in Kenyan history.

He declared it forbidden for schools to hold any events during the third term, he denied candidates to enter the exam room with any watches, pencil pouch or even a mathematical set. All stationary was to be in transparent paper bag. He ensured that during the examinations no students were around and teachers except the head and the deputy. He literally did the rounds himself to some schools during the examinations to ensure no irregularities. He had both the KCPE and KCSE results released before the completion of a month after the seating. And why I say this man will remain of the hour is his enigmatic style of doing things. On 29th we suddenly had breaking news just out of the blue for the release of KCSE results. For the past few days before that, I could hear candidates create panic attacks amongst themselves with the false alarm always, “I hear the results will be released today!” As much as the exams were practically ‘made familiar’ with almost all questions coming from the ‘made familar series books’, candidates were barely eating, barely sleeping, moving into their grandma’s homes so as not to be asked their index numbers 😀 He kept Kenyans on suspense and hands on their hearts always. It’s like he wants to play this hide and seek game yet wanting to prove that THIS IS HIS GAME!

For the first time in history we are having at least more realistic results than ever. They look clean and it really clarifies where we are as a country. Matiang’i has insisted that he won’t allow any monkey business in his reign and that cheating is out of his dictionary. A new system has also come up whereby students won’t be using index numbers anymore but instead be using specific student identifiers throughout a student’s school life. Again Matiang’i wants to bring in common exams in universities just like the KNEC and KASNEB exams which may greatly affect the number of graduates in universities. While this will be a pain in the necks of some, students confusedly still like Matiang’i. Like he is doing something that may affect them greatly especially considering how many depend on leakage, students still can’t help but adore the man. He is doing a great job and many are ready to vote for him if he vied for presidency. Or at least he should be the chairman of IEBC right? We surely need such a clean-up in our politics too!

You know, when I remember during our days after KCPE we would have to wait until February to start school and after KCSE, have to wait for at least four to six or more months before getting their university calling letters. And if you ask the older school generations, they had to stay at home for almost two years waiting for the calling letters like they are being summoned to heaven. These people would do all kind of small jobs; from secretarial to farming to salon to doing house chores to cooking, counting the days until they would get too tired and just lie down on their beds, heads staring at the ceiling like they are tempted to commit suicide before joining university. Then the most painful part after those dreadful two years you get called for a course that you never even knew existed, in a down-town small college where your ancestors belonged. In a college with just two lecturers! Well, Matiang’i has saved some souls hasn’t he? 😀

Better still is that students finally got a longer holiday. The primary students have always been busy; always at school, always doing homework, always at tuition, always carrying heavy bags until their shoulders drop, always tired! They really deserved a longer break so that they could actually relax and have a normal childhood like it should be. So this time round both primary and secondary schools closed before November, giving them two good and healthy months to take a break. Yey Matiang’i!

Nonetheless, Matiang’i didn’t just break the headlines with 141 A’s, he also broke our ribs or rather, cracked them. You know Kenyans are never late creating memes and jokes when something happens and right now, Matiang’i it is. Whilst the old students thank God that they completed before Matiangi’s reign, everyone is still excited and amused by his style and swagger should we say? 😀 Since the day before yesterday my whatsapp has been knocked off with Matiangi jokes all thanks to the Khalifa alumni group lol and of course all over social media; still made my week though 😀

1. Yaani Matiang’i alikua holiday huko Coast kurelax beach akaona watoi wanaswim na ju hajui kuswim akaamua atoe results.

2. Next year results KCSE results zinakuja kama message ya sportpesa…CONGRATULATIONS you scored a D in KCSE results ID 1205.

3. Ati Matiang’i akiwa minister for health, madem watakuwa wanakaa na ball 4 months =, hakuna kuteseka na mizigo.

4. KCSE 2017: HISTORY PAPER 1A: Describe the Matiangi massacre and it’s significance in shaping Kenya’s education sector (20 marks)

5. Saa hii mtu mjanja anafaa afungue kinyozi ju watu wenye wanarepeat high school ni wengi na walikuwa washaweka rasta.

6.This ‘failing of the boy child’ is a strategy by the government to decongest JKUAT.

7. Kama hujaendea cert yako high school endea sai before Matiangi aifanyie corrections.

8. But those of us who finished our KCSE before Matiangi’s reign, acheni Mungu aitwe Mungu. Juu wengi wangepata certificate of participation.

9. Matiangi be like cut it cut it cut it that mark is way too high you need to cuuut it.

10.Interview job itakuwa swali moja tu ‘before or after Matiang’i?’

11. I never dreamt of a day when KCSE results would be breaking news. Congratulations Matiang’i, results are now at par with terrorist attacks.

12. Urban Dictionary:
Word: Matiangi_surprise
Example in a sentence: Hey Duncan you matiangied me.
Synonym: surprise, shock, eye opener, rude awakening.

13. Ati hao 141 wamepata A ata wanaweza form whatsapp group na wajiite ‘the only doctors, wengine ni witch doctors’

14.I hereby take this opportunity to thank my parents, for timing 😀 I did my KCSE before Matiangi 😀

Let’s all have a moment of LOL LOL LOL for the one and only Matiang’i. He has done a great job nay? Well, uni students brace yourselves, you are yet to be roasted ??

To all those who have received their results, congratulations. As the saying goes, you reap what you sow. Nonetheless one thing I realized is that, High school defines your personality yet it is university that defines your real IQ because this is where you do what you choose to do and you learn the way you want to. So whatever the case, prove your abilities in the next level. All the best ahead! 🙂

For the first time ever, Good pitch comes to East Africa and Kenya! Okay so right now you have two questions in mind:

What is Good Pitch or Who are they?

And why should it be exciting news?

See for any writer, journalist, innovator, policymakers etecetera etcetera, documentaries are not just documentaries or films like how you watch it on television and that is the end of the story at the end of the story. This is about capturing the most urgent issues, the untold stories, the exceptional master pieces, and this is exactly the golden chance that Good pitch offers.

So who are behind Good Pitch?

Good Pitch is a BRITDOC project in partnership with Ford Foundation and the Sundance Institute Documentary Film Program. BRITDOC is a nonprofit film foundation supported by Bertha Foundation, the Ford Foundation and more than 50 organizations and individuals globally.

What exactly do they do?

GOOD PITCH brings together six documentary filmmaking teams with European foundations, NGO’s, campaigners, philanthropists, policymakers, technology innovators, government, brands and media around leading social issues – to forge unique coalitions and campaigns around documentary films to maximize their social impact and influence.

The filmmakers selected for Good Pitch are exceptional storytellers and independent journalists, capturing urgent global issues: from the struggle of emerging democracies to defending LGBT rights; from degeneration of the seas, to the challenges of ageing; from the price of human migration, to disability in the workplace.


So after a Pan-African call made in Durban in July 2015, six extraordinary film projects, were selected; drawn from 100 entries from 18 countries across Africa. There is a fantastic lineup of extraordinary film projects for this year’s Good Pitch2 Kenya, which are urgent stories of our time. This is going to be the Good Pitch offering a positive opportunity to connect with the biggest challenges facing Kenya, and Africa at large, this decade. With filmmakers hailing from Kenya, Norway, South Africa, Australia and Sierra Leone, these projects tackle several important and urgent issues.

Good Pitch is where change begins. It’s where strategy is conceived, coalitions are forged, deals struck and pacts made. Right now, there are 85 Good Pitch films being used at the heart of national or international social justice campaigns.

Included amongst the 2900+ organizations that have participated in Good Pitch are: Al Jazeera, Amnesty International, Arabella Advisors and Ariadne among many others.


Among the films at the Good Pitch 2016 Kenya are:



Director; Julia Dahr, Kenya, Norway

Over the last five years Kisilu, a smallholder, has used his camera to capture the life of his family, his village and the impacts of extreme weather. He has filmed floods, droughts and storms but also the more human impacts – his kids are sent home from school when he can’t pay the fees; men are moving to towns in search for jobs; and relations within his family become more and more strained. But Kisilu refuses to give up – instead he finds himself on the biggest political journey of his life. Travelling to Paris to present his footage as evidence to delegates at the UN Climate Talks, his video diaries take on a remarkable new meaning. Amid the murky cut and thrust of politics at COP21, ‘the biggest environmental show on earth’, Kisilu sheds a powerful new light on the climate justice movement and the people who lead us.



Director; Maia von Lekow& Chris King, Kenya / Australia

The Letter takes us deep into Kenya’s southern Coast Province, to explore the region’s growing problem of violence against elderly people. Accused and condemned as witches, more than twenty elderly people are being killed every month in these communities. But the witchcraft is being used as a cover-up for countless disputes over land and resources. With the discovery of large deposits of rare earth minerals, property developers and resource explorers eye these ancient lands and tension is rising. With flames being fanned by religious hatred and deep historical injustice which threaten to overwhelm, we follow one family who are fighting to stay together and save their grandmother who is the next to be branded as a witch.



Director; Jackie Lebo, Kenya

A forgotten desert community grapples with the consequences of a big oil find on their land. Will the promised development be what they’ve always wanted and must they lose their traditional way of life? From the community elders looking for answers and a place at the table, to the young environmentalist campaigning for social justice, to the oil man, who is convinced that this geological find can bring the progress and investment that the region has been desperately waiting for. Turkana: Race for Resources observes the battle for the soul and the future of Kenya’s great Northern desert country.



Director; Pete Murimi, Kenya

What’s the true cost of living a life that’s true? In Kenya, like much of Africa, gay people aren’t even allowed to think about falling in love. Most of our story is set in the sprawling slums of Nairobi, where our protagonist, a father of two and a gay sports player, lives with his lover. It’s a far cry from the kind of life his conservative rural parents imagined for him.  An “aspiring politician” and anti-gay crusader, is used to bending the truth, in his quest for political relevance – something that’s hard to attain when you come from the slums. The politician’s ambitions to push for a “stone the gays law” are at odds with this gay man’s desire to live a truthful life, free of discrimination. What will this desire for TRUTH cost him, in the end?



Director;AlikiSaragas, South Africa

After a massacre by the South African police shakes the foundations of the poverty stricken mining community of Marikana, two uneducated unemployed grandmothers, Primrose Sonti and ThumekaMagwangqana resolve to rise up and organise. They form a community organisationSikhalaSonke (We-Cry-Together) to advocate for economic and social justice. Growing in determination, Primrose joins the new opposition political party the Economic Freedom Fighters, that promises the disenfranchised poor land and jobs. When sheer determination unexpectedly lands her a seat in post-Apartheid South African parliament, Primrose will have a life changing move to Cape Town. Meanwhile Thumeka picks up the reigns of SikhalaSonke in Marikana, and together with a legal advocacy team, lodges a landmark complaint against the World Bank for its investment in Lonmin Platinum Mine. A study of friendship and of leadership and the battle for social justice in modern South Africa, how will these two women make their voices heard to affect real change?



Director; Arthur Pratt, Sierra Leone

Through the lens of Sierra Leonean filmmakers, Survivors presents a heart-connected portrait of the Ebola outbreak, exploring the complexity of the epidemic and the socio-political turmoil that lies in its wake. The film chronicles the remarkable stories of the Sierra Leonean first responders – including an ambulance driver and a nurse, during what is now widely regarded as the most acute public health crisis of the modern era. It is a revealing the story of the local heroes who helped bring the epidemic under control.


The Opening speech of Good Pitch Kenya will be delivered by Hadeel Ibrahim, the Executive Director of the Mo Ibrahim Foundation.

The Moderator will be Nancy Kacungira, now with the BBC.


So what happens next?

The day after the live event, GP are scheduling a private, two-hour Good Pitch Post Pitch Summit of 15-20 persons per film project.

The goal is to view additional material from the film, hear more about the film subjects and their journey, share how the film might be able to serve the movement, brainstorm distribution and campaign strategies then with a key group of stakeholders, create a list of other potential partners, and discuss the possibility of next steps.

See why I say this is exciting?



The global Good Pitch programme in partnership with Ford Foundation and the Sundance Institute Documentary Film Program brings Good Pitch2 to Kenya (GP Ke) and East Africa for the first time on October 8.GP Ke is hosted by Docubox, the only East African Documentary Film Fund based in Nairobi.

Further details are as noted below:

GoodPitch2 Kenya LiveEvent

Date: Saturday 8th October 2016

Time: 09.00 –17.30,with a cocktail reception to follow until 19.00

Venue:Kenya National Theatre, Harry Thuku Road Nairobi


Among the attendees are:

Acumen East Africa, Africa Uncensored, Afridocs, Aga Khan Foundation, AGRA, American Jewish World Service, Amnesty International, Amnesty Kenya, AMREF Health Africa, Arid Lands Information Network (ALIN) amongst many others.


In Kenya so far over 30 organizations and over 300 individuals have confirmed participation. Another beauty is that the following day after Good Pitch Kenya ie. on Sunday the 9th , a day after Good Pitch there shall also be Good Pitch OPEN HOUSE, A British Council Hustle to be held at Shalom House from 3.00pm to 6.30pm. An invites only (unfortunately) meeting between Funding organization and philanthropists with interested parties that will include filmmakers and other creatives.


I will end this by congratulating and wishing all the participants the very best in the film-making process. We need to see more Kenyan and African stories out there 🙂


To get a flavor of what Good Pitch does, watch our trailer.

Find out more about Good Pitch: goodpitch.org.

What’s the impact?  Take a look at our review!