Writing is like sex. First you do it for love, then you do it for your friends, and then you do it for money ~ Virginia Woolf
25 August 2018
Here is a little note I published 7-years ago on Facebook addressing fellow hippies in a Freethinkers’ platform. This is a slightly edited copy:
“I am publishing this here viz my own profile and pages cos this forum played a huge role into the doggie I am today. If Atheist Republic assembled my hardware—this forum was my OS. I finally understood that there was nothing wrong to be different breed in a herd of Merino. Long story short—i stopped explaining myself to cerebrally-handicapped human cattle in 2015. It finally dawned on me that lies are easier to swallow for the dirty majority than the the bitter pill of cold truth/logic. I gave up….
I wasted most of my youth in mijengo and mîtumba and barbecuing goats’ testicles—where thinking is not just discouraged—but punished severely… So you can imagine my predicament.
And I was an alcoholic all along—I was cured as soon as I was in a position to do my own shit from scratch.. Giving me enough cojones to renounce inheritance despite having only testicles to my name. … Thank ya’ll, maafuckers. There’s little yous in some of me—Wambûgû and Bella Mxwit Vagina included.
I am going to be a non-average writer very soon, or rather—as soon as all logistical hiccups are sorted out. Pray for me, nyee-ici.
Meanwhile, no cattle can ever understand why i prefered jua-kali over ”clean” jobs like deree or messanger or hospital cleaner:
1. Jua kali did not violate my spirit—only my body. I didn’t have to dress ”smartly” or shave my dreadlocks. Not forgetting that i could go to work reeking of chang’aa, and smoking weed in workplace without worry.
2. Freedom of speech. That was my foundation of subtle defiance. Also the main source of my rich vocab in several local languages…..
Not blowing my own horns cos my aunts taught me to be a nice kid—but what if I was born elsewhere and had all those decades wasted in slave-labour spent in medical or tech colleges instead—who knows how much I could’ve made your lives berrer, suckers? Like a cure for hang’over or german/kikuyu goitre or even virtual condom or genetically-engineered super-chicks who do not age or poop or fart or wear head-stocking in bed? 😕
In closing, Kazi sio Kazi: https://bigthink.com/surprising-science/why-having-a-bad-job-is-worse-for-your-health-than-having-no-job-at-all/
An introverted ol’ fart born in the twilight zones of Brutish East Afrika—where colonial ghosts still whisper and social constructs crumble at the edges. A contrarian’s contrarian: too restless for orthodoxy, too curious for comfort.My credentials? A PhD in blasphemy , a masters in marginal thinking.
I am the offspring of contested territories, a human palimpsest where history’s rough drafts collide. Neither fully indigenous nor entirely colonized—a liminal being who speaks in the languages of resistance and nuance–ze middle-finger icing ze cake where necessary.
A peasant who researches, a researcher who tills: my hands know both soil and scholarship.
My liberalism? Lowercase and lawless