On Vale’z Day, one of those Facebook memories popped up on my timeline.
It was from 2014, and innit’ one Quincy Timberlake waz attacking me about ‘always being jealous of his relationship with Esther Arunga’ (she usedta be our colleague on the TV side of things, n host us for Friday Press Breakfast long before cool n easy Diana Tarik took to producing that show) because I had written on this space the Friday before that he ‘struck me as a psycho.’
Sad to say, exactly seven months after our public tweef, the story is told how Timberlake took his n Esther’s little son and bashed him to death against a wall in Australia in the name of ‘exorcising demons.’
One day I’ll have to just sit n ask my old Colditz schoolmate Joseph Nimrod Hellon (we starred together in Starch’s production of ‘Alice’ back in the day) how in hell he hooked up with that ‘nyungus’ Quincy to begin both the Finger of God kanisa, as well as the Placenta Party of Kenya (an outfit Trump could work with, as per editor Ted Malanda, ha ha).
Anyway, so last Sato, we, with Lily Moraa and in a Goethe-hired shuttle (which we mocked up as a prison bus, n us guys as peeps headed for incarceration) locked up to Lang’ata Women’s Prison Department (LAPD) where Standard snap csar Pius Cheruiyot n sometime Pulser Kevo Oguokski joined us.
We were welcomed warmly by the bootyfull warden Sarah Njeru who led us past the gate n we passed residential buildings out in the open air afore we got to the prison area itself.
After chai, samosas and andasis made by the ‘clients’ of LAPD (‘inmates’ is no longer an in word there, and as for ‘prisoner,’ let alone ‘mabusu’ that is soooo 1997, if not 1987, n if you still use that word, yu prolly still humming Third Eye Blind’s ‘Semi-Charmed Life’ under yur breath, alongside le Jules M).
Anyway, we did our lit thing at the LAPD (which ye can read about in the main entertainment pages of this paper, n that reminds me, in our lil beef with Timberlake, the nigga told me I should go work as a janitor in the UAE coz they are paid better than gazeti columnists, n I tole him just coz he cleaned ‘choo ya Mwarabu’ I don have to follow his career path/advice n now who is sitting in prison in Brisbane, ehh?, although I too did end up in prison last week, n those LAPD ladies are lovely n literate, just that they pyjamas make ‘em look like it is bedtime all day, every tyme, n they got to be counted regularly, but hey, they get to stay funky n I even saw a dash of lipstick on the face of my new inmate intimate, Carol Shiko). N the affection between the ‘clients’ and their guards is truly heartwarming.
Also warming the cockles waz my friend Adipo Sidang’s rendition of ‘Love Is A Ring’ to one Ruth Kamande. Said this new emperor of poetry to her ‘Wambui/ I shall not offer you pyramids or plazas/ but if ye love pottery or poetry/ I got a fetish for clay and words.’ And if I waz being ‘Mean Smitten,’ then I’d’a sed n Kamande has a fetish for ‘knives n wounds’ for it is she on trial for stabbin’ her boyfie in Buru twenty two times after she found an illicit love message on his fone; n she’s no big fan of the media.
But she’s Miss Lang’ata (she trended after been crowned on TV) n I wud be happy to arrange a hook up for my pal, the Real Solo Koko, a fisi with no fear who can dare stride where the angels fear to tread.