Yours, Olang'

#iDontBelieve: “The Power of The People vs. The People in Power”

(Preamble: This is a reblog. One whose message I wholly endorse.)

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First and foremost, a heartfelt prayer for the victims of explosion on Moi Avenue.

OK, now on to the blog.

About a week plus ago Uhuru Kenyatta launched his TNA Party in what can only be described as the biggest launch of anything ever in Kenya. Seriously. He must’ve had the same budget as the Avengers movie. It was epic and quite impossible to miss.

The meat of the message he spewed out was some very inspirational, flowery and borderline purple balderdash on the importance of believing and having faith, hope and dreams. If I may, I’d like to quote him quoting someone.

“It was once said and I quote “ To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe.” end quote. Here today we have seen a dream being unfolded, we have seen the wings of hope that can carry us into the future and beyond. This is not some grand elaborate design, no, on the contrary it is very simple and basic, it all about our dreams. We all dream, children more so, but we must now start believing in the dream in order to achieve great things.”

“Ours is a party whose engine is oiled with the dreams of every Kenyan. A party that focuses into the future by offering solutions for the problems of today and emerging challenges of tomorrow. We seek to dispel the notion that parties are founded with the vision of getting to power. The Alliance is driven by a deep desire to fully implement the Constitution of the Republic of Kenya and the spirit of achieving the national development milestones as laid down in the Vision2030 agenda. That ladies and gentlemen is what we are asking you to judge us on as we move forward.”

- Uhuru Kenyatta, in his speech “TNA: The Alliance of Believers”

The speech is linked up there and it’s really not a horrible read. I tip my hat to the copywriter behind it and the endless hours of YouTubing inspirational speeches that must’ve been put behind that. Really I do. But let me tell you what I don’t believe before I tell you what I do.

I don’t believe that any man who has not lived a life as an average Kenyan can feign appreciation for our plight. I don’t believe that one man can change an entire government of corrupt people unless his first executive order is to dismiss them all from their current positions. I don’t believe that any person who can chalk up a Kshs. 9 billion deficit in the budget to “computer and typographical errors” honestly cares for proper management of the country’s finances. Especially when there were more deficits to follow. I don’t believe that anyone who puts more money and words on the table than actions and deeds is really offering change and not selling a dream. I don’t believe that anyone ever accidentally got accused of genocide. Furthermore, I categorically refuse believe that any person who has been in politics for 15 years will have a change of heart given more power.

And the big one, I don’t believe in our current selection of political leaders because I don’t believe that the change that needs to happen is within the rungs of power.

I do believe that the people can make a change. I believe we know where the shoe pinches and know the pain of not even having shoes, so we know what needs to be done. I believe it is our job and our responsibility to make that happen. I believe that the buck does not stop with casting the vote, nor does it start there. I believe we need more than a dream. I believe we all need to make running this country our second job. I believe in the power of the 40 million civilians, not the 200 or so government officials seated in their 200,000/- chairs delaying change.

And much as people don’t think so, I believe in the power of our voice and our vote. Because like I have said a great many times, people will always get the leader they deserve. If we are divided and apprehensive, it reflects in our leadership. If we are greedy and tribalistic, it’ll transcend to our leadership. If we are responsible and proactive…well, then maybe that TNA speech and the forthcoming speeches from other aspirants will have some context.

So I believe what we need is not to “believe in a dream”; we’ve been doing that for 50 years; I think we need to start taking baby steps, graduate to larger strides and leap forward. Any leader who claims to believe that should be able to admit that the government is oversized, overpaid, under-qualified and mismanaged. Especially when what you spent on launching your party could put streetlights in every slum in the city and cut down the murder rate.

Seriously, when you’re worth more than 80% of the population put together, and you’re one person, you need to do more than make a speech to get me to believe in you. I’m more convinced by the people I see mobilizing on a daily basis, working hard, giving despite their poverty, and not only taking time to believe but putting in time to achieve our dreams.

And unless I’m grossly mistaken, it’s politicians that keep holding us back instead of pushing us forward. Give us a push and I’ll believe. Lead in action and I’ll believe your words.

Give people power and stop seeking it for yourself and I’ll believe.

Update: Jemedari – Letter to The President

 

 

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Reblogged from diasporadical.com

 

Njenga Karume, a tribute: “From Charcoal to Gold”

I walk into the office this morning, and as is custom, log on to my respective accounts – Twitter, Gmail, Facebook, Tumblr, in that order. A few minutes later, our morning news anchor, Allan Adika, strides into studio:

“Morning Olang’. Have you seen the news?”

“What news?”

“Hon. Njenga Karume has passed away. It’s only just breaking.”

I hope it’s simply another case of an over-eager journalist jumping the gun, as happened a few weeks ago (Saturday Feb 4^th, 2012). On goes the telly at the office, and emblazoned across the bottom of the screen on every major TV station, the very same message.

“…And he would make time for them all. Equal time. No, the rich man in the dapper suit with a business deal was not more important than the old wizened woman in the tattered clothes seeking school fees for her grandchildren. They were all treated alike. This is what impressed me most about Karume.”

                ~ Julie Gichuru

Here was a man who has been at and around the centre of Kenyan politics since pre-independence. A man that was already in the thick of this country’s agenda before my dad was born.

Here was a key figure in every major historical event to spring to mind: From Madaraka in 1963, to the Kenyatta-Moi succession politics, to the 1992 multi-party politics… All through to the politics of the day, considering his long-known friendship with President Mwai Kibaki, as well the speculation surrounding his relationship with Prime Minister Raila Odinga.

Here was a man who started off in the timber business, rising to his present stature, all of which is documented in an autobiography, “Beyond Expectations: From Charcoal to Gold”.

But most importantly, here was a man. A father. A brother. A friend. A mentor.

A man – as vulnerable as any other – who lived the last few years of his life battling a condition many men today know little of, if any.

True, we can list down all his accomplishments. We can give all the dates. All his wins. All his graceful losses. But he is still a man. A father. A brother. A friend. A mentor.

“…One of the last things he said to my business partners and I when we last sat in the same room was “It is you who shall lead this nation.” He was referring to us, the youth, the online generation. He believed that we could – and would – change the face of the country and he stood behind his words by supporting our business aspirations in kind, advice, and action.

~ diasporadical.com

This is to salute that man. Not the politician, nor the business man. This is to salute that father. That brother. That friend. That mentor.

 

Musau Ndunda, kids are not retarded fire-breathing dragons.

Musau Ndunda, Sec-Gen, Kenya National Association of Parents:

“…3 months, children being at home, I think that is a national disaster… it would become a disaster for the students, and they will be chaotic…”

Kind sir (Yes, I’m struggling to maintain a semblance of politeness), I take offence to this statement. And I’ll keep my argument brief.

If your kids are a nuisance, Mr. Musau Ndunda, kindly stop using made-up parents to excuse your personal fears.

My parents would not hesitate to discipline me in ways they deem fit. And I respect them for that. You, clearly, need schooling.

That said, I know quite a number of said “disasters” that are pretty stand-up kids, and that I’d vouch for any day. My brothers included.

So, Mr. Musau Ndunda, if you fear “3 months, children being at home”, there are a number of options you can explore.

I present to you, Musau Ndunda, Option 1: I’m pretty certain that all churches will be keen on organising camps for your 3 month disaster.

Option 2: You can ensure that you alone have the keys to your house. You know, to keep the disaster contained.

Option 3: Prison. Seeing how you clearly consider schools containment facilities. Though I’d question your alleged parenting.

So there you have it, Mr. Musau Ndunda: Kids =/= Chaos and pandemonium. They are not retarded fire-breathing dragons. I googled it to be sure.

Contain your “disaster” or shut it.

 

On the doctors' strike: Dear KMPDU, get a script.

Capn's Log. 7th December 2011.

I read a passionate piece in support of the strike and immediately thought:

'My goodness, could the rest of you just use this post as the script?'

Said piece was written by a personal friend of mine, herself a doctor, Wahura Kanyoro:

Why I am UNASHAMED to be supporting the doctors' strike.

Did I support the strike? Do I [now] support the strike? That's mine to know. However, I did have a few thoughts to share, and here's what I had as my comment:

I'll be honest with you: You're the first person to come up with an absolutely solid piece, detailing the "why" of the strike.

It's my job to ask tough questions, as a radio host. Moreso for a breakfast show.

I was in studio with a KMPDU representative on Monday. I pressed for explanations, for the reasoning behind the strike, with the belief that I'd get a solid argument from said representative. I get your viewpoint, and how I wish I'd have had this spirited and personal - especially personal - view from said chap, then perhaps, perhaps, the "public" would have heard a better idea of what's going on.

I got nothing. Nil.

At the end of that hour, yes, it was a good chat, but nothing persuasive, nothing new. If anything, the money aspect was emphasized above and beyond the rest of what you mention. Since then, I've hardly mentioned the strike, because I didn't see the need.

This kind of clear message, what you expressed, is the kind that gets the message across.

My take: Please get your representatives to simply stop talking until they have come up with a proper communication plan.

And get me right on this: Yes, you know exactly what you are fighting for, but it's with good reason that most organisations have to have a deliberate discussion on HOW to get the message they are pushing across. Being in a field that has everything to do with the "how" rather than the "what", and having seen what is going on, I don't think anyone sat down to think about HOW the union would get its point across.

Presentation, unfortunately, will be the winning card. Bluntly: Until someone sits down and thinks about HOW the message is being put across, HOW the message is being received, and HOW to counter any misinformation, the government, with all its propaganda and machinery (and experience in playing public perception), no one will understand why doctors are "abandoning their posts". It will remain a matter of "these selfish doctors". It will remain a matter of "these guys are at home as my son is fighting for his life".

Again: Yes, I see the "why". But it took your account, your personal account, to get the message through. Which is why within 2 days of your post, it has achieved what I will comfortably refer to as viral status.

The "how" counts a lot more than the majority of KMPDU would like to admit, in my assessment.

Until someone within KMPDU sits down and actually thinks about HOW the message is being put across, this government still holds the winning card.

The answer to the "how" lies in your very words. Now here's me hoping you can get someone in KMPDU to listen.

Do read the note. Take my word for it: The perspective offered by Wahura is worth the time.

Meanwhile, KMPDU, get a script together. I don't care about your suits, or how well glossed your lips are. You have grievances, I get it. And they are valid. But as you call for your press conferences, go for your marches, do this one thing: Get a script together. 

 Otherwise you're wasting your time. And our lives.

- Marcus Olang'

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Capn's Plus, 8th December 2011: Just came across this as I was trolling for more on the progress of the strike vs. government position.

The Law is Broken: The doctors' strike isn't the only thing that may be unconstitutional.

Just an excerpt:

....Therefore, were we to conclude that Government is unwilling to negotiate in good faith and the health care sector continues in a state of paralysis, how does the law propose to address this stand-off?

For this answer, one would ordinarily consult the Labour Relations Act of 2009. Looking at the LRA, it appears to be a modest attempt to strike a balance between the rights and duties of both employers and employees. A critical feature to note is that the LRA talks about what it calls “essential services” defined as “a service the interruption of which would probably endanger the life of a person or the health of the population or any part of the population”. The LRA, in the Fourth Schedule, lists “hospital services” as one of the “essential services” and some would argue that this would include the services offered by members of the Kenya Medical Practioners and Dentists Union (KMPDU). Under section 78(1)(f), the LRA expressly prohibits any person to take part in a strike if the employer and employees are engaged in an essential service. This same prohibition is restated in section 81(3).

Another one worth the read.

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Capn's Plus, 13th December 2011: I'll let Wahura speak for herself through this tweet, tagged 12th December 2011, 12.39am.

@UKenyatta @kmpdu @ovngani @wambuiwaithaka @AnyangNyongo After a 45k increase, what happens to registrars? To equipment still lacking in hospitals? To no KY jelly for VEs? To no oxygen for people in resp failure? To 5.4% of the national budget? To lack of basic drugs, fluids, instruments and gloves? What happens to the citizen who now must now continue to be treated in sub-standard facilities? What happens to doctors always bordering on or suffering depression about having to certify PREVENTABLE deaths all the time? It was never just only about the salaries and accepting a deal that only gives a fraction of the salary demanded but leaves everything else to the-oh-so-wonderfully-functioning-Kenyan-task-forces is a BETRAYAL! And you @UKenyatta should be ashamed.

"@marcusolang, what do you think of "Ita Waiter" by Madtraxx?"

Capn's Log. 2nd December 2011.

Ita wait-eeeerrr... Ita waiter... Ita waiter... Ita waiter...

Red Republik appears to be on a roll this year: From "Skamares", to "Fire Fever Lighter", and now Madtraxx is playing Santa for those who have been good (at being bad) this year:

 

 

My colleagues at OneDrive (Adelle and Roy) had it as their Hit-or-Miss track earlier on this week - the results are theirs to tell - but after that, someone informed me that Adelle put word out for folks to ask me what I think about the track.

It's rubbish.

I mean, c'mon: An entire stanza spent naming the different brands of alcoholic drinks? If I wanted to know what I want to drink, I have a menu for that.

... and, of course, good old Google.

(Although I'll give credit where it's due: He threw in a mention of KC. Keeping it real.)

I'll be open about one thing: I'm a huge fan on content in music. Which is where the likes of Juliani, Sauti Sol, A-Star, Elani, Rigga, Chizi... [To use a cliche: "Just to mention but a few"] completely have me. Excellent lyrical content, fused into superb instrument[al]s. So by default, I had to use the same yardstick to judge "Ita Waiter".

It's rubbish.

The moment I listened to this track, I had a "Madtraxx-oh-Madtraxx-where-art-thou-oh-Madtraxx" moment. For that moment, I thought the chap had lost his edge - that ingenious ability to tell an entire story in four minutes while keeping it simple.

 

"Or maybe success has gone to his head."

Here comes the "However".

I don't think "content" was the point at any point in time, as Madtraxx sat in studio doing this track. I don't think he even pretended content was a factor.

Listen to that track again.

 Ita wait-eeeerrr... Ita waiter... Ita waiter... Ita waiter...

It's not about content. It never was, never pretended to be as such.

I've mentioned this to okes around me (Good afternoon Mr. Rimbui): 2012 will be a big year for South-African-styled House in Kenya - and the House-esque feel in general. Look around:

• The (re)invasion of Stella Mwangi
• The delightful rise of Muthoni the Drummer Queen
• "Sol Generation", if you've listened to Sol Filosofia
• [Again, to use a cliche: "Just to mention but a few"]
• And, of course, the latest: Liquideep in Nairobi at Blankets and Wine this month

Madtraxx is a sharp chap, going by how he constantly reinvents himself. He sees the trend, catches the wave early. He's done just that. Again.

That said, back to the matter of content. Ladies and gentlemen, Exhibit A:

 

 

Exhibit B:

 

 

[The cliche, again: "Just to mention but a few"]

Common factor: Not much in terms of content, yes? Brilliant pieces of art nonetheless. In fact, going by my initial "Content" yardstick, these fall well within the bounds of what I referred to as rubbish.

Among the first things I said to Allan, Munene and Val when they asked me about "Ita Waiter" (correct me if I misquote myself - it happens):

"Rubbish. Don't get me wrong: It's a very catchy track, but it's rubbish..."

I stand by those words. With this disclaimer added:

"...If you're completely fixated on content."

Love it, hate it, the stage is set: It's set to be a helluva hit leading into 2012. I know people who'd prefer to peel the skin under their eyelids than listen to [some of] this new generation of music.

 

Are we heading into an era of void-of-content only validated by a loose phrase thrown in to get us singing along? Refer to Exhibits A and B, then look around.

We might already be there.

And here I am, singing along. Picturing a sea of sweaty, skimpily clad bodies and [our oft poorly ventilated] clubs - drinks in hand, waved high in the air - dancing and screaming to it. Which, I suppose, was the aim.

I can't help but feel that my mother would be disappointed in me. My aunt Sarah too. And my other aunt Anna. As well as aunt Millie.

"Just to mention but a few."

Ita wait-eeeerrr... Ita waiter... Ita waiter... Ita waiter...

 

-Olang' M.

 

The Test: An attestant's account.

Capn's Log. 1st December 2011.

“Good morning Nairobi! Thank you for joining me this morning on your Number 1 station for local and urban hits, on the 1^st of December 2011; this is Marcus Olang’ with you on the OneBreakfast…”

Usually a breeze, on any other day. This was anything but.

“Do you want to share the result with me?”

*-*-*

Sitting in the reception, I can’t help but soak in my own vanity.

‘I look like the definition of confidence.’ I almost pop my arm out of its socket patting myself on the back. I like my arm the way it is – though I wouldn’t mind adding a bit more muscle – so I stop congratulating myself for my confidence and go back to my emails.

“Olang’.”

'So much for my confidence,' I think, as I walk into the office.

I know the system. I’ve been here before. Several times. Heck, I do this at least twice every year. C’mon man, it’ll be a breeze.

As my fist clenches in tension, I realize that it’s the same drill: I know I made no mistakes, but for some inexplicable reason, my face turns into a sea of sweat, my armpits moist masses of manly musk.

Only this time, I had made a mistake. That’s if we don’t count the other two.

As I sit down, Susan tries to make me feel comfortable. She definitely had a lot of experience. I can’t disappoint her. I play along.

“How many sexual partners have you had…”

It’s mechanical for me, answering the questions. Which means my mind has the time to go back to the reception. Specifically, the people I saw at reception.

I’m certain I saw her at the Kudishnyao. I’m a sad case with faces – even worse with names – but for some reason, she stuck. Seems she didn’t recognize me as we sat facing each other. Or we both did an excellent job at acting. What’s her story?

Questionnaire done. Part 2 of counselling  by Susan before she brings out the needle. She’s truly a beauty. Maybe… Get thee behind me Satan.

As she explains what’s about to happen, I face the thought: What if…?

I find myself wondering about what a life with HIV is like. Suddenly, Assumpta Wagura’s articles – the same ones I keep reading in passing – come into sharp focus. How does she do it? How does she project that aura of strength and positivity?

Susan holds my middle finger, dabs it with moist cotton wool, and then the prick. I watch as the blood grow into a ball around the puncture. And there’s the infamous white stick.

10 minutes before the magic lines appear.

Susan and I continue in a light-hearted, content-laden chat just as soon as she places the test kit on a table to my right. My mind remains restless. My heel meets the ground in nervous rhythm.

Then the drugs. Good grief, I loathe drugs. Except caffeine. Caffeine’s good. I have an unparalleled desire to keep all those pills out of my life. The little blue one included.

But what if…? Would I have to take that ARV combination? Of course I would. As is the case with quite a number of people.

What of these folks living with HIV?

I had done a bit of digging [on Google]: Funding for matters related to HIV – research and treatment – has been dropping since 2010. Someone will need to pay [more] for their ARV regime. Fewer awareness campaigns. Fewer free government-issue condoms strewn all over university hostel grounds perhaps. Preferably used.

Wait. Even if the cash was there, would we pay attention? I remember a tweet from a friend of mine, Mugambi:

"@ItsMugambi: @Maximilus @cooxie02 @MTVShuga We’re all messaged out, I think. There’s still a pervasive it-won’t-happen-to-me buffer. & of course, apathy."

These two things considered, I’m led to a dark conclusion. Which I, predictably, tweeted:

"My crystal ball tells me Kenya will see a jump in HIV number 2012 – 2013."

I silently pray I’m wrong.

“So I think it’s done. I hope you’re ready,” I hear Susan saying. “Do you want to look at it yourself, or do I do it with you?”

I smile at her offer of support, a truly welcoming look on her face. “I’ll have a look.”

I get up, walk over to the table on which she placed the test kit.

I hear Susan’s voice behind me:

“Do you want to share the result with me?”

*-*-*

I wonder whether Jacob Zuma’s shower technique works though…

-Olang' M.

Advertising: The brilliance behind Soko Ugali.

Capn's Log. 28th November 2011.

"Soko Ugaliiii, Nakupenda na roho yangu..."

 

 

This brilliant ad has been the subject of much heavy and sustained criticism, with this as a sample of said rejection of the ad:

Now I need to make it clear that I write this not in criticism of said ad, but solidly in its corner.

Which is why I will ask you, right off the bat, to join me in ignoring the birds chirping at a time when the sun is clearly high. Because, you know, we city dwellers know not the daily patterns of those captivating creatures.

South African fast food chain Nandos this past Friday launched a new ad campaign [Read about it here], a video whose views are fast approaching the magical half a million mark.

(I say "magical" to give the illusion of importance to that point. Which it is. Important, that is, not illusion.)

Channel24.co.za put it up for a vote. Here's an excerpt from the follow-up post:

We polled our readers on Channel24.co.za and asked: "The latest Nando's ad is out and it's as irreverant as ever. But is the ad effective in persuading you to buy their chicken?"

A slim 50% majority voted "Absolutely! I love the brand" - but 43% of those polled said that the ad did not particularly affect their buying decisions and that they simply enjoyed the ad as entertainment.

Three percent said they did not like Nando's food or ads while 4% said that they did not even realise that the advert was meant to sell chicken.

I asked a friend of mine, @saitonne, about her view on the purpose of advertising. It all boiled down to getting people to buy your product.

Which is pretty much what the Channel24.co.za poll was asking as well. But from that particular poll, another angle came up.

Entertainment and relatability.

Which is where the Soko Ugali ad wins, in truly deliberate fashion.

(Picture of stunning lady to throw you off and keep you from throwing stones. Thanks Boity. You might have saved my life there.)

Entertain who? Relatability to whom?

Stay with me here.

Look at him:

We all have a friend like this. Unless you're the friend.

Then look at her:

Focus gents, focus.

What on earth is a guy whose face looks like the bottom of a careened Nissan Cube (still better looking than me though) doing with her?

At which point I refer you to your own careened-Nissan-Cube-faced friend. Somehow, at some point in his existence, he got involved with a Ms. Soko Ugali, the genesis of which you could never understand. Scurry away from Nairobi, and this is the scenario repeated several times over: Careened-Nissan-Cube-faced guy married/dating (for marriage) an inexplicably gorgeous lady.

And, surprise surprise: Your uncle is that guy.

Or your girlfriend who's dating some random guy with the face and physique of a grossly obese panda (aka me - No offense to all ye panda lovers), which you cannot for the life of you get your mind around considering the amount of eye candy walking around the streets of Nairobi. Eye candy that she could have eating from the palm of her hands any time she decided to switch on the charm. I mean, you've seen her do it before, so why is she with me? [I meant to say "that guy".]

Throw in a random goofy attribute - such as senseless singing, shamelessly showcasing an obvious void of talent that is nothing short of impressive - and you have... that guy.

The brilliant chaps behind the Soko Ugali ad deliberately brought this out in excellently efficiently.

Win on one count: Relatability.

"What about the entertainment?"

I thought that was the whole point of the singing. Unless I was mistaken. The good lot that created the Soko Ugali knew full well that you and I couldn't help but laugh at the poor bloke's efforts at serenading that steaming hot plate of posho.

And it has you singing along every time. With the jingle even stuck in your head, singing it out at the most inappropriate of times:

Where are we on this shopping list? Ah yes: Maize flour... "Soko Ugaliiii, Nakupenda na roho yangu..."

Gari ni rwabe boss... "Soko Ugaliiii, Nakupenda na roho yangu..."

Drat. I'm just bila psyke for work today. *brain static* "Soko Ugaliiii, Nakupenda na roho yangu..."

You guy this question maze... And this was the one unit I decided not to read. *scratches head* "Soko Ugaliiii, Nakupenda na roho yangu..."

Wow. What I wouldn't do to... "Soko Ugaliiii, Nakupenda na roho yangu..."

Bottom line: It just works. Simple. True, I learnt how strong-willed I am when I first saw the ad (Ask around: The gag reflex is a tough one to beat back), but a few run later, here I am, singing along while happily thinking of myself as the careened-Nissan-cube-faced chap with the amazingly hot wife that the blokes are jealous of.

Wait. I forgot to talk about how the 2 cute kids fit into the pict... "Soko Ugaliiii, Nakupenda na roho yangu..."

(as appears on Wanau.me)

Capn's Log: Of a man's rape and matters monetary.

Capn's Log. 28th November 2011.

HARARE, Zimbabwe - It’s official: Either way you look at it, these crafty creatures we know as "woman" only want us for the money.

Zimbabwean police believe there is a nationwide syndicate of women raping men. Revenge? Not quite the theory police have in mind.

It is alleged that the intent of the rapes is to harvest semen for use in rituals that claim to make people wealthy.

Three women today go on trial in Comrade Bob’s centre of power, Harare, having been arrested with 31 condoms in their car.

Used. Thirty-one used condoms.

(Image censored due to its graphic and sensitive nature)

One alleged [anonymous] victim said he was  graciously offered a lift by a group of three women in Harare:

"One of the women threw water in my face and they injected me with something that gave me a strong sexual desire... They stopped the car and made me have sex with each of them several times, using condoms.”

The poor chap went on to intimate his story of humiliation:

"When they had finished they left me in the bush totally naked. Some people gathering grass helped me by calling the police, who took me to hospital to deal with the effects of this drug that I had been given, as the urge to have sex was still there."

It is believed that the seedy secretion is a key component in a rigorous ritual whose result is a booming business and an assured inflow of assets.

The terrifying trio - due in court today - are being charged on 17 counts of aggravated indecent assault, as the politically zealous Zimbabwean law - get this - does not recognise the act of a woman raping a man.

[You know, because we generally enjoy being used sore.]

Gentlemen, the wily womenfolk only want us for the money. And that there is your proof.

Good morning Kanye West.

 

 

Rubbish: "You have to serve your time to rise up the creative ranks."

Capn's Log. 27th November 2011.

This won't take too long.

"You've got to serve your time to rise in the creative ranks. #CreativesMeetup "

Rubbish.

My lawyer here tells me it would be wise to add something of a disclaimer here. So below is my attempt at that.

I respect the okes that have been in their respective fields for a while. Experience is a priceless asset. Yet oft times, it's as useless as it is priceless. I'll make my arguments short and painfully simple.

1. If you got it, you got it. Here I could go on about being gifted and how you can storm your field with it, how you shouldn't be stupid in your naïveté, how you still need to respect and listen to the more experienced lot... But I won't.
2. Forget "doing your time". Here I could go on about how you ought to learn from others, or how if you are completely incapable of taking a hint, then yes, you deserve to do your time for as long as you refuse to learn the lesson... But I won't.
3. "You've got to serve your time to rise in the creative ranks." Right. Sounds like something a Kenyan politician would say. Here, I could go on about the attempts of the established to" hold down" the new kids on the block, how the experienced would be opposed to a new, dynamic way of thinking... But I won't.

One need not "do their time". If anything, "doing your time" will be only as long as it takes you to learn: 1 day, 1 year... The lessons are out there. See the chance? Seize it, own it, run with it.

But do it right.

Nandos strikes gold. Again.

Nandos strikes gold. Again.

The fast food chain are out with a brilliant (borderline controversial) new ad starring Robert Mugabe.

Already known for their push-the-envelope campaigns, Nandos have Comrade Bob dining alone in "Last Dictator Standing".

The scene: Dinner table. With the names and places where his fellow dictators used to sit. And that's where the fun begins.

Bob goes down memory lane: Good times with P.W. Botha, Chairman Mao, Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi. (Or Qaddafi. Or Ghaddafi. Or...)

"Good times" here meaning water guns, swings, making sand angels and - the kicker for me - karaoke.

The point? Comrade Bob loves his Nandos chicken (almost) as much as his mates.



I like it.