The Mboch chronicles

The Mboch chronicles

Today I am one angry girl, wa, this cannot be good for my skin, or something. This is why. Two weeks ago our house help or should I say ex-house help, left for church in Kawangware and until today she has not come back, kwani how long is that service? Pu! So anyway, we call her and she says she is not well and she will be back the next day. Until now, she is not back and we are done watching the gate with anticipation for her awaited return. And did I mention that she pokead my mothers’ old clothes kumbe she was just taking them home polepole so that she can go ng’ara for her admirers. Argh, she takes our kindness for weakness and leaves without announcing her demise. Okay, her departure, but she is dead to me.  

Now I am left to do all the mboch-ing, at the expense of my ‘social life’. We are not the type of family that has had house helps all through but when we got back at it because of the existence of our younger sibling, I may have gotten accustomed to it. Now I mboched when I was small, and then ill mboch when I get married, so this is my time to chill, ama? Kwani it is my destiny? What is even more depressing is that my eldest sister is married so haishi kwetu and my other elder sis just moved out. Imagine. So it is me, my beautiful mother and my naughty little sister, so guess whose hands all the mboching falls on? Mine, aki and the way I literally have tiny hands. So I wash clothes, dishes, the house, and I cook as well. I go to the shop, I lock the house, I make tea for visitors and wash the dishes they use. *leaves for a few minutes to scream at the reminder of all the mboching*

 Here are therefore the things I would rather be doing:-

·         Instead of cooking, I would rather be ordering take out and watching movies with someone who is worth my time.

·         Instead of washing dishes, I would rather be swimming in some awesome pool with a bunch of cool friends (I would have) and still ordering food. And kwani why do they make paper plates and cups and why was the memo not sent to our mothers’?  Now every time I speak all that proceeds from my mouth is, “kwani mnatumianga vyombo aje?

·         Instead of washing clothes, I would rather be buying new clothes and sexy shoes that match and thereafter going for hot dates and keeping up with the social scene.

·         Instead of sweeping the house, I would rather be swept off my feet by some unbelievably handsome man with a deep voice and very nice hands; it’s just my thing.

·         Instead of making tea for wageni’s I would rather be pokeaing ice cream and milk shakes made by some other person enduring the same stress I am as of now.

·         Instead of babysitting, I would rather be sitting in my bikini at a beach in South Coast sipping on a cocktail having the time of my life  being called ‘baby’ by some hot rich man.

·         Instead of cleaning bathrooms, I would rather be soaking in a tub with bubbles drinking a glass of chilled white wine and listening to some slow music by Usher or Jamie Foxx.

Those are just an eighth of what I would rather be doing as opposed to wondering what to do with my kid sister when a random plan reveals itself. Now if I was in a committed relationship, my hot dude would have to come over to pokea……his salams?:)

I thought I would feel a whole lot better now that I have aired that out but I don’t. I guess I am all mboched out.

*Exits to finish washing dishes*

MY AWESOME PHONE

My dear awesome phone,

 I’m sorry for cursing you out,

 and occasionally throwing you down

Whatever would I do without you?

 I mean I wouldn’t even Snap Tu,

My awesome phone,

Without you I wouldn’t access Linkedin,

 and make fan of guys on mkz,

And how would I ever reply my awesome tweets?

Oh the thought itself frightens me!

 Without you awesome blogs I would not read,

Just think, no Crazy Nairobian or Boyfulani,

No Wamathai to find out about awesome gigs.

Sometimes I just want to throw you against the wall,

But most time it’s really Snap Tu’s fault,

And I know I never charge you on time,

And for that you serve time, shut out from life,

until a charger is found to revive.

They may say you’re so old,

texts come with dust,

But never fret, I love you nonetheless.

The BEGINNING!

Hello there. My name is Ivy and I can proudly say that I am a Virgo. Yes, I said it. Being a September baby certainly explains some of these interesting characteristics I possess. (Waits as you get mind out of gutter :) As I was saying, this cool, calm and collected nature emanates from being a Virgo and thus my uncomplicated self has decided to fulfill the wanna-be writer thirst within me. So finally I have started my very own blog. I have occasionally scrounged on other awesome blogs (read @crazynairobian and @wamathai) who were crazy enough to accommodate this simple girl’s thoughts.  So this misunderstood lass decided to take on the challenge of writing to entertain, and mostly air my many sorrows, coz you see if you know me, you know that I am not what one may term a share-r; at least not verbally. I write for communication and I would much rather text than call. Call me coward or what you like but that is just the way it is. I have learned to deal with it, so I guess you can.

So I therefore would like very much to welcome you to my super simple aboard. Enjoy:)