Not Yet Uhuru

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I only own two suits. A black one and a blue one. Both are nice suits; one is from the designer Nick Ondu – Sartorial  who, although – like most fundis  will take 300 years to finish your suit – does a pretty decent job of it. The other was an unworn gift from Ramah of Le’ Kasri a young man taking the chance with a thimble and making bespoke suits inspired by the great African kings and leaders who walked before us. This particular suit is from his latest collection called  Linda Ufalme – or protect the Kingdom.

The night before I’m scheduled to meet President Uhuru Kenyatta I retrieved the suit-carrier from the darkest depths of my wardrobe, lay it on  my bed and unzipped it slowly like you would a body bag.

I raised the suit up to the light and closely inspected his handiwork as I mulled over how the most abused attire is not even happy socks, but the suit. If you are under 50 there is never any reason to wear a suit that looks like you are about to parachute off a plane. Big, baggy and flappy things with large turn-ups at the bottom. Suits that would horrify even MC Hammer.

When I told a friend that I was going to meet the president and I was going to wear a suit she asked, “A suit? Isn’t that excessive? I don’t think Uhuru is the kind of guy who would care if you showed up in jeans. He’s easy.” True, I said, the president might be easy but the Office of The President might not be.

I grew up in the Nyayo era where we would be made to line up for hours only to catch a 4-second glimpse of Baba Moi hurtling past in his indomitable motorcade. Moi was mythical. He was baba and he was mama and he gave us free milk. Lore in our school’s playground had it that no man alive would ever look into Moi’s eyes for too long. That his gaze was so powerful mere mortals wouldn’t dare stare into his depths. He shrivelled your soul. Moi was the sun. And so the president was like folk-lore, fantastical. He didn’t fart or shower like us, neither did he use toothpicks. Maybe we were just young but the president was immortal,  an extraterrestrial. It didn’t help that when we were born we found Moi and he was there through our childhood and teenage right up until we became adults. Some of us even became fathers and mothers while he ruled. So he was all we knew; a looming monument of our lives.  And because I’m from that generation, I was excited at the prospect of meeting the president.

As night fell I remember trying out my blue suit to make sure it fit. Ramah calls it an Osei Tutu blue, a blue that represents calmness and tranquility – neither of which I felt. Infact I felt anxious.  

I tried it on with a white shirt, then removed the white shirt and tried it on with a plain blue shirt, then thought Naah, I look like a medical insurance broker. I then tried it on with a red-checked shirt which made me look like those men who drink cocktails through a straw. I was starting to feel like a girl going for her first date  but I didn’t care because you don’t meet the president daily.

Undeterred, I tried on my suit with a striped blue shirt and addressed my reflection in the mirror: “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr President.” Pause. “It’s an honor to meet you, your Excellency.” Clear throat, “It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Mr President, you are much taller in person than you are on TV, could it be your shoes?” Then laughed alone like a maniac.  

I retired to bed and settled to watch his Youtube interviews with Julie Gichuru on African Leadership Dialogues and Folly Bah Thibault of Al Jazeera and the one with Richard Quest who pronounced his name  like my grandmother does, “Ohuru.” (Without the twang).

I noticed how – during interviews – the president often starts answering a question before the interviewer has fully completed the question which could be anything from impatience to confidence. So I got up and went to my desk and reviewed my six questions again and tweaked and reworked them so that they didn’t run more than 20 words per question. Once they were good and ready – running into short solid sentences – I mouthed them off to hear how they sounded. They were perfect.

I climbed back in bed at 11:02pm and lay on my back staring at the ceiling my mind alive with possibilities: What if he wakes up in a lousy mood because he remembered something nasty someone in NASA had said? What if one of his kids pisses him off and he’s all fire and brimstone before the interview? What if he has a hangie? I hoped that no security situation happened that night to keep him up all night.  I told God, “Lord, make Ohuru sleep well tonight, tuck him in early and please ensure that he doesn’t wake up in the middle of the night to go pee. Please give him a solid seven-hour sleep because I want him in a mint and happy condition tomorrow morning.”

The Lord works in mysterious ways he took away my sleep and gave it  to Uhuru because I hardly slept at night. I tossed and turned and freaked out that I would oversleep and miss the interview. I had small, fragmented and utterly useless dreams. One particular one was of the President walking into the interview room with a towel tied around his waist, kicking a tin of Kimbo lying on the floor and screaming, “Wakenya wenzangu, I have said this over and over again, I DO NOT WANT BLUE BAND on my bread!” I almost woke up screaming myself: NO BLUE BAND ON THE PRESIDENT’S BREAD!

***

I wake up early and do 120 push-ups, 100 crunches, stand under a hot shower then pop one Seven Seas Omega tablet. I avoid breakfast because you don’t want your stomach making funny noises as you sit with the president because you decided to take leftover beans and chapos.  

My mind is crisp and clear, I feel healthy and youthful and I’ve never been more ready for an interview. I have mastered the questions in my head and can deliver them in two different ways, each not exceeding 7 seconds. I’m as ready as instant soup.

6:20 am exactly,  finds me  -together with the rest of the crew –  at Gate D of State House. Gate D is where the watus and vegetable deliveries come through.  Onions and things. School vans as well. VIPs and dignitaries use other gates. Life is an animal farm.

I thought the red beret security at the gate would be brutish and gruff instead they are professional and friendlier than I imagined they would be.  

There is waiting involved, after all everybody waits to see the president. Standing there in the cold, I feel like those chaps who wait outside factories in Industrial Area for a muhindi to open the gate and ask [ thick indian voice], “nani iko na kitambulisho?…wewe kuja…wewe baki…wewe kuja...”

After what seems like two months we are finally cleared by security. I feel both excitement and anxiety. We all drive in. State House is massive and immaculate. We drive down a winding road, through picturesque grounds of green lawns and well tended gardens. We pass a massive white house. There are more houses. Even the trees sway in a stately way. The parking is full of cars. I wonder what time the president’s day starts since the parking is already full so early in the morning. Everybody seems to want to see the president. Does he remember all faces and requests? Or does an aide whisper in his ear before a meeting, “So this next guy is the guy whose twelve granaries were eaten by termites. He has been writing letters to see you for two years now.”

“What does he want?” The president asks. “Do we keep insecticides here?”

“No, we don’t Mr President, but he was your father’s good friend.”

“Is that so?”

“He says he farmed with your father before -”

“My father never farmed, he was a carpenter first.”

“Of course, Mr President, but he says he went to school in Russia with your father, he has some very old papers to prove that he attended The Communist University of the Toilers in Moscow with him.”

The president for the first time turns to look at his aide.

“Just how old is he?”

“Very old, he’s in a wheelchair. He can’t see properly. His hands shake. He’s accompanied by his son, and, er [the aide hesitates] he’s wearing a suit with a KANU flag.”

The president chuckles and says, “Blast from the past, ey? Oh, memories.” Then goes back to being serious. “You said his granaries were eaten by termites?”

“Yes, sir. In 1968. He says your father promised to help him.”

“Does he know this is 2017?”

“No, Mr. President. I’m afraid not.  I suspect he thinks you are, your father.”

The president adjusts his tie and pats his hair. (His hair,not the aide’s hair).

“Wamekunywa chai?” He inquires. “Did you guys serve them breakfast?”

“We did, sir.”

“OK, great. Send him in.”

***

We walk from the parking heading to the main State House building. We pass a man trimming a hedge with a large pair of shears. Everything is so clean and orderly. We pass a group of presidential outriders standing in a cluster, leaning and joshing around and having a cackle. Off their imposing powerful motorcycles, without their helmets on and their luminous jackets unbuttoned they look disappointingly like humans. They are like us; they are fathers, boyfriends, brothers, they send money back home to mend leaking roofs and holes in fences. I feel cheated because when you see them in those bikes, clearing the way, they look like cyborgs; robotic, efficient, cold.

Men in suits walk about the grounds. It seems like every other person is in a dark suit. Across the lawn, a tall skinny security man in an oversized suit prowls around carrying an automatic weapon. He probably is in an elite squad, proficient in all manner of weaponry and warfare. I bet he can jump off planes, diffuse bombs and swim for kilometers with his hands tied behind his back. The kind of guy who can immobilize a threat with his thumb. What does a guy like that fear?

At the Aide De Camp we stop at the security check where we surrender our phones through a small window.  We then go through a metal detector where a mute, unsmiling man in a suit runs his hands against our bodies. His hands are tough and big. He must body-search dozens of bodies in a day, looking for something that juts or protrudes, something not allowed in the president’s space.

How does a guy like that touch his wife after a long day of patting down people? Does he touch her and say, “ Brenda, your hipbone feels funny today, are you OK?”  and the wife is like, “What do you mean funny?” And he says, there is a slight shift when I touch it. Then the wife is like, “Maybe it likes you.” Then he laughs and says, “No, really. Are you sure it’s not painful?” Then the wife sighs heavily in the dark and says, “Look, do you want to spend the next hour talking about my hip bone, because if that’s the case then I will leave you to it.”

***

We are led into a very plush waiting room; Lounge 10. It’s got a bright red luxurious carpet the colour of anger. The seats are deep tanned brown leather. There is a fireplace, fresh roses in a massive urn and, above us, fancy wrought-iron chandeliers like drops of Jupiter.  A TV plays with the volume turned low. The room is stately and it demands silence and reverence. The president with too much makeup smiles at us from a portrait photo above the fireplace. I silently wonder if Emmanuel Jambo took that particular photo and who powdered the president’s nose for it. The air is thick and charged with power. You can feel it, you can smell it against the oaky smell of age and tradition. The “ghosts” of presidents past still linger.

The room leads out to a small courtyard with a fountain gurgling in the center. The grass there looks impossibly green.

We sit there in relative silence. I go through my questions in my head. They are beautiful questions, it’s a beautiful day and I will have a beautiful interview, I tell myself. The universe is rooting for me.

Chatter and laughter drift from across the courtyard. I look outside and secretly hope to see the president come out of a doorway and roam in the courtyard, maybe smoking a cigarette (if he does), pacing about in deep thought. None of that happens instead a suited man passes outside the room and looks at me. Five minutes later the same man passes again and looks at me. I start getting paranoid that maybe he knows something about me. I suppose they do background checks on guests. After all, the government knows everything the government wants to know, innit?

I start thinking that perhaps that man knows that I’m always late in filing my tax returns. That I’m one of those guys who KRA will have to put up billboards for,  all over the place to remind them of the 30th June deadline and the 20K penalty. The look that man gave me as he passed was a look of reproach,  as if I’m letting the country down by not being patriotic enough to file my tax returns on time. That I’m not what KRA now calls Mkenya Mtrue because Mkenya Mtrue hulipa ushuru.

If he passes again and looks at me I plan to mouth the word, “ I will pay, I promise! Mimi ni Mkenya Mtrue!”

We are ushered into another room that I suppose is a dining room. There we are served breakfast of chicken wings, eggs, baked beans, toasted bread, freshly squeezed juice and a large platter of fruits. We are served by men in suits. Somewhere within the building, the president waits.

My mind fragments into a million thoughts. I have questions that are unrelated to the interview swimming in my head. I want to ask the president if he’s on Whatsapp. And if sometimes he wakes up and finds that some uncle from Kiambu has suddenly added him to a group he doesn’t want to be in.What dreams did he have growing up? What are the disadvantages of overabundance?

I want to ask him how it was growing in the State House and if he finds it surreal that he is there again as an adult (as the president  now). I want to ask him what his whisky of choice is and if he has ever had a drink with an umbrella on it. I want to ask him what was his favourite room in the State House was when he was 9 years old. Does he see the memes people make of him and does he find them funny or just old? What does he fear the most?

I want to ask him about his teenage dating years and if he ever brought back a chick to State House to watch movies. I want to ask him to kindly empty his pockets (and hopefully nothing else falls out hehe) to see how much he carries in pocket change. I want to ask him if he has ever driven himself since he was the president. Or if he has ever used M-banking. I want to ask him if it’s lonely being a president. Or exhausting. Or boring. And since he has been in and around power all his life, what is his formula for picking out friends who like him for him or who like him for being close to power. Or what “personal space” means to him now as a president.

I want to ask him who he thinks is the funniest person in NASA, someone he wouldn’t mind catching a pint with and having a laugh. Does he find that State House sometimes echoes with the presence of his father? When Mzee Kibaki left did they have to buy a new bed for him or he’s using that same bed?  I want to ask him if his father were to show up in the courtyard for five minutes and he had a chance to get one piece of advice out of him about running the country what would that one question to him be? Or what his father would be least impressed with on how he runs the country. I want to ask him if when he was dating he ever was heartbroken by a woman and if he sent her gushy messages in the middle of the night saying, “you have done something horrible, you have not only broken my heart, you have broken the heart of a nation.” (Then the chick sends back an emoji rolling her eyes with the words, “Oh please. Just go to sleep, Muigai).

All these mad questions are swimming in my head but I know I can’t ask them because this isn’t that interview.  

Then something dreadful happens.

The door to the left bursts open and someone comes bearing an apology; the President is very sorry but he has to run, perhaps we can reschedule? My heart sinks. I didn’t think I would be so crashed with disappointment, but I am. I tell myself it’s no big deal, but a small voice laughs and says, “Oh yes it is!”

Actually I feel so terrible, like something important has been taken away from me. In contrast, the rest take it so well. I slump in my chair with defeat and stare at my chicken wing which now has no meat in it.

He was practically in the next room! I think to myself. So close yet so far!  As in, had he sneezed we would all have caught a presidential cold.

We silently clear out of the room like soldiers wounded from a lost war, dragging heavy carcasses of disappointment and dashed dreams.  I find myself with a new predicament: My suit. I wonder what I should do with it; should I wear it throughout the day and have people ask me “who died?” or should I go home and slip into my usual jeans? These are decisions I didn’t think of 20mins ago. Life had temporarily handed me lemons but I was in no mood for lemonade. I decide to keep the suit on and show it off to my daughter later when I pick her up from school.

I also had another problem; I had ran my mouth off to a few friends that I was going to interview the president so I was dreading putting  my phone back on because now I had pals waiting to hear how it went; how he was like in person, was he funny?

At 3:30 I go to pick Tamms in my suit because she has never seen me wear a full suit in her 9-years of living. Plus she has previously made it clear that I wear clothes that embarrass her before her friends in school. That I don’t dress like “other dads” who show up in white dress shirts and ties, fathers with proper jobs. This is my chance to redeem my image before her friends, as a well adjusted father who is perhaps in a gainful occupation.

It’s a hot day and I even sacrifice and leave the coat on but when she walks out of the classroom, – bag slung behind her, purple water bottle in hand – and finds me standing there she doesn’t even complement my goddamn suit! She gives it a quick look and doesn’t as much as acknowledge it. Business as bloody usual. I mean how nasty and insensitive can a child be? Who does this child take after anyway? I ask myself. Are these my recessive genes by any chance? Does she not know what a disappointing day I have had? Can she not read her father’s mood? Why can’t she be kind to my feelings like I am to hers?

Funny thing is that when the president cancelled the meeting I thought nothing worse could top that.  Clearly  I had forgotten I had  cold hearted child!

In the car she finally asks me if I met Uhuru. I say no. She asks me, “Why?”  I say because he is busy and he had to go. She asks, “Go where?” And I smile because it sounded like she was asking where the president would run that was so important he couldn’t meet her father. But knowing Tamms that’s not what she meant, she was only curious because she doesn’t care about my ambition. I tell her he had to go to campaign. She asks what a campaign is and I regret using that word because I’m too tired and I’ve had a long day to explain what a bloody campaign is. But I do and thankfully she’s a sharp girl so she gets it and I don’t have to use many words.

She stares ahead in silence. (She’s a thinker, that one). For a while we happily drive in silence.

“He will probably call us back,” I tell her.

“He has your number?” She asks her voice betraying mild admiration.

“No, darling, but he’s the president – if he wants anyone’s number he can get it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, maybe call Bob?”

“Who is Bob?”

Then my head begins to throb.

Ps. Our 40s Series resumes next week. Men, please write up. Ladies, do you know of  men who have gone through the rabbit hole and come out triumphant. Or are still in the hole.

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203 Comments
    1. You did it again Biko!
      The part where you want to ask the president questions unrelated to the interview, such an eminent article!
      Truly gifted, can’t wait for part 2!!!

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      1. “you have done something horrible, you have not only broken my heart, you have broken the heart of a nation.” this finished me. Talk of breaking the heart of the nation!

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    1. I cannot even pick out what made me crack the most in an office full of suits…lmao!!! I’m sorry you didn’t get to meet El Presidente Ohuru, but chin up, he probably will be told to read this by one of his millennial staff that read your blog and summon you right after he’s done cackling his lungs away – because from pictures, I will imagine he’s one of those with the laugh from the pits of his soul!
      Please, once that happens, we need step by step documentary information, as in e.x.a.c.t.l.y how it went! so now? Nick Ondu’s suit ama just do jeans?

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      1. haha I have a feeling that “Ouru” will read this blog too. And just like when Biko got the UK visa after the “Onus” blog he wrote tearing the “Bri’ish” a new one, I think a repeat visit, this time with an in-person interview with Ouru is imminent.

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  1. One particular one was of the President walking into the interview room with a towel tied around his waist, kicking a tin of Kimbo lying on the floor and screaming, “Wakenya wenzangu, I have said this over and over again, I DO NOT WANT BLUE BAND on my bread!” I almost woke up screaming myself: NO BLUE BAND ON THE PRESIDENT’S BREAD!…a towel like Jesus! Thought u would say he washed feet!

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  2. Naona siku hizi umekuwa yule msee…

    That guy who goes to State House, ama you’ve become an independent candidate wa bloggers

    Cheers

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    1. My head is bobbing knowing how much juicy details you are going to elicit when El Presidente comes through for that interview.

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  3. Sorry about the no show. I was hoping you would actually get an opportunity to ask some of the questions in your head like if he has ever used M-banking

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    1. I liked the questions in your head i wish that when you actually interview him you get to ask afew of those besides the already prepared script.

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  4. “One particular one was of the President walking into the interview room with a towel tied around his waist, kicking a tin of Kimbo lying on the floor and screaming, “Wakenya wenzangu, I have said this over and over again, I DO NOT WANT BLUE BAND on my bread!” I almost woke up screaming myself: NO BLUE BAND ON THE PRESIDENT’S BREAD!”

    Awesome piece. Sad you couldn’t meet him

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  5. There are days I wake up all jolly and excited, eager and anxious to see what the day have in store for me. Then there are those days that not even a gallon of black coffee filled with an elephant’s trunk-sized sugar would help, time seems to drag on as if waiting for someone. You check the clock and it’s 09:11 am, two hours later, you check again jus to find its 09:12 am. [ 2,060 more words ]
    https://jceasor.wordpress.com/…/…/the-furry-and-the-furious/

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  6. Hehehe. That conversation between Uhunye and the aide got me a good one. More so this part ”Yes, sir. In 1968. He says your father promised to help him.”

    “Does he know this is 2017?”

    “No, Mr. President. I’m afraid not. I suspect he thinks you are, your father.” I have laughed so hard yani. You should be given a slot on Churchill show. Hilarious piece.

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      1. That man in a black suit looking at you and you want to confess vile unalipanga tax.. please Biko, pay tax ohh! Tamms akijua haulipangi itakuwa case kama ya kanjo bro,… Gifted Biko.

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  7. Very funny.Sorry that you were disappointed. About that suit,I know the suffering you will undergo the next time you will be meeting the big man.I find myself in the same predicament if am to meet one too many clients in a short span and don’t have too Many classy official numbers

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  8. This guy is a genius!!!hahhahaha navile I almost got presidential cold reading quietly not to disrupt his excellency…reminds me of my first time in state house…for garden party after Jamhuri day maneno the sweating was real.

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  9. That day must have been a national day for recessive genes. I think the presidents’ recessive genes were in action too. But lucky you got chicken wings for breakfast ( you must have saved lunch money).

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  10. Wow! That sucks for sure. Though one has to wonder what emergency came up that the president had to re-schedule meeting with the fourth estate (at this 11th hour)
    Chin up..at least you got a tour (albeit briefly) of State House.
    I also had the image of the biker presidential escorts as cyborgs. It’s hard to imagine they are mere mortals like us inhaling the same air we do.

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  11. “you have done something horrible, you have not only broken my heart, you have broken the heart of a nation.” (Then the chick sends back an emoji rolling her eyes with the words, “Oh please. Just go to sleep, Muigai).

    Drops the mic and walks off

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  12. The title nailed it.
    ”Funny thing is that when the president cancelled the meeting I thought nothing worse could top that. Clearly I had forgotten I had cold hearted child!”haha

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  13. Those are the questions.Only those!
    Nobody cares about those Mehdi Hassan questions in that black book of yours….

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    1. Biko, I love how you masterfully play with words.

      This particular article has cracked me up a good one….

      One particular one was of the President walking into the interview room with a towel tied around his waist, kicking a tin of Kimbo lying on the floor and screaming, “Wakenya wenzangu, I have said this over and over again, I DO NOT WANT BLUE BAND on my bread!” I almost woke up screaming myself: NO BLUE BAND ON THE PRESIDENT’S BREAD!

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  14. I recommended your post to my boss(manager in KRA) because he is a guy with a sense of humor, so today after reading and laughing he comes and asks me if I should help you become a Mkenya Mtrue because he doesn’t want his favorite author to be penalized. So do you need help?
    Nice read as always Biko

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    1. Run biko,run. This is a trap,this is like when you see a toilet in a dream, don’t you dare use it!

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  15. Hehehehe Biko, when you are old and grey, Tamms will also make funny comments about your attitude or lack thereof lol

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  16. Great read Biko, cant wait to read about the actual interview, you should throw in some of those mad questions too. All the best

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  17. Woiye Biko pole, I can feel your disappointment but excellent read nonetheless. Your descriptive writing is so on point! Well done!

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  18. How does a guy like that touch his wife after a long day of patting down people? Does he touch her and say, “ Brenda, your hipbone feels funny today, are you OK?” and the wife is like, “What do you mean funny?” And he says, there is a slight shift when I touch it. Then the wife is like, “Maybe it likes you.” Then he laughs and says, “No, really. Are you sure it’s not painful?” Then the wife sighs heavily in the dark and says, “Look, do you want to spend the next hour talking about my hip bone, because if that’s the case then I will leave you to it.” ……….. I want to ask him if when he was dating he ever was heartbroken by a woman and if he sent her gushy messages in the middle of the night saying, “you have done something horrible, you have not only broken my heart, you have broken the heart of a nation………… What if he wakes up in a lousy mood because he remembered something nasty someone in NASA had said? What if one of his kids pisses him off and he’s all fire and brimstone before the interview? What if he has a hangie? I hoped that no security situation happened that night to keep him up all night. I told God, “Lord, make Ohuru sleep well tonight, tuck him in early and please ensure that he doesn’t wake up in the middle of the night to go pee.

    Tuesday**all smiles**.

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  19. You forgot something Biko. Did you have on those pink round shoes and a rabbit iphone case. Can we have Fred’s version because I can smell ommission.

    And that right there is your rabbit hole. Whether you have come out already, I guess we will tell in time.

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    1. My exact sentiments! Had Fred tagged along?Did he say you missed it because of the suit?I mean, we want to know how Fred handled the disappointment. Lol!

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  20. Boy! I waited a whole week for the 40’s people. I even had a sleepless night waiting for the next 40’s person to feature on the blog just like you had lost sleep the night before your “interview with Ouru”.
    Was Uhuru going to talk about his 40’s? I’m itching for an answer

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    1. Some of us young’uns don’t give two hoots about the 40s guys and their pieces. We come here for Tamms and the puns and humour. But we can be alternating the Tuesdays, can’t we?

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  21. Boss,Your daughter will be the end of you.
    Nice read though.

    PS, when the next interview comes up forget about the 7 questions and ask him if he has M-shwari on his phone..

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  22. I wish you got to ask all the questions that were swimming in your head. The answers would make for another interesting read. This one,
    ‘I want to ask him if when he was dating he ever was heartbroken by a woman and if he sent her gushy messages in the middle of the night saying, “you have done something horrible, you have not only broken my heart, you have broken the heart of a nation.” (Then the chick sends back an emoji rolling her eyes with the words, “Oh please. Just go to sleep, Muigai)’.
    hahaha…broken the heart of the nation
    Ubaya tu when he was a chap there were no mobile phones

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  23. ‘I want to ask the president if he’s on Whatsapp. And if sometimes he wakes up and finds that some uncle from Kiambu has suddenly added him to a group he doesn’t want to be in.’
    Hahahahahahahaha!!! Fresh!!!!

    Looking forward to the cont. of the 40’s series next week. I was going to ask what had happened.

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  24. Everything is indeed a story. It sucks that you didn’t get to interview the President but it’s also inspiring that you made a great read out of it.

  25. Ohuru has made many people go to state house one of them being yours truely here,but…alafu kunyang’anywa phone! what evidence will you brag with that you have been to statehouse without a selfie jamani? Nice read Biko.

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  26. He has actually driven himself as President-it’s on Youtube, the day they declared his ICC case over-he was presiding over some event at State House then he said: something to the effect -niende nikaambie mama the good news and he climbed into a Silver defender and drove off. Nice read. I could actualize the tension, the aura..

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    1. Not until Biko give an undertaking that he’ll be filing his tax returns in time. Way to go, Ohuru, don’t meet them who are not ‘Wa kenya watrue’

  27. if i see this KRA Kenya mtrue one more time am going to lose it.The amount of money they are using to advertise and hire “celebs” to remind us to pay tax is enough to fund ministry of industrialization!!.Good read though.i love your rants abt Tamms..ati recessive genes.lol…

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  28. I was invited to state house one time. It was a bunch of us, women entrepreneurs. Then last minute they changed and made us meet the president in KICC. It sucked! At least we got to meet him but not at state house as I had bragged to everyone.

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  29. Tamms. She is the real MVP. You may be the invincible word smith but she reminds you of your mortality. She humbles you. You might have wowed the missus but Tamms is the one that keeps you on the grind. She gives you ambition. You can never get far if all people around you are Yes-men.

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  30. You got in through “Gate D ” where the watus and vegetable deliveries come through. Onions and things. School vans as well.
    A nice one Biko

    9
  31. I died with laughter hahahaha!
    I hope they call you back and we get to finally read that interview….
    Tamms is a real girl!!

    3
  32. One day Tamms will get to read this blog. And she will see that she has been reffered to as a ‘cold hearted child’ among other things over the years. I hope she will be as entertained as we are reading about her.

    3
  33. Biko, did u just use the word thimble…this took me back to high school home-science lessons.
    Always a pleasure to read from you.

    3
  34. One day Tamms will get to read this blog. And she will see that she has been reffered to as a ‘cold hearted child’ among other things over the years. I hope she will be as entertained as we are, reading about her.

  35. The title kinda let the cat out of the bag…..who else things Biko should do a full interview with Tamms……just for the kicks….lol….

    5
  36. You see that Tamms attitude? That’s me right there. I care but then I have a PHD in minding my own business. Few things come across to me as impressive. When my dad – i was a kid then – was all worked up because he was going to meet the president I did not share his excitement at all. I just wanted him to come home with meat in the evening 🙂 That’s all that mattered. I also wonder where Ohuru rushed to though. His aides need to give him an idea of how much people prepare for their visit to state house. Some wear suits they have never worn before and even practice their speech in front of the bedroom mirror. And it breaks their hearts when he just rushes off without meeting them.

    22
  37. kwani people didn’t read today?? good read…. sorry that the president disappointed you. bt. .. he’ll probably call you, right?

  38. An excellent read, as always. Prezzo should know people! Sounds like a first date bounced on the 11th hour?

    1
  39. Hahahaha hillarious !! hopefully the president will call you and reschedule the interview, i have those many questions for him as well so hope one day they will be answered through you. Good Read Biko as always.

  40. This part here…”I almost woke up screaming myself: NO BLUE BAND ON THE PRESIDENT’S BREAD!” I’ve cackled a good one. And this is how I know my Biko-mania has escalated – I now sorta hate the president for cancelling on you guys. You’ll get them next time.

  41. ” I want to ask the president if he’s on Whatsapp. And if sometimes he wakes up and finds that some uncle from Kiambu has suddenly added him to a group he doesn’t want to be in.” —- possibly the best question of them all.

    2
  42. Well written as usual… In my now close to 50 years, I have never been to those hallowed corridors of power-… and funny enough, no one has ever bothered to describe it the way you have. The tvs during the national days just show us the house and the pillars, and not even how to get there. My wife has been there several times, but since we had an argument just before she left, she never bothered to tell me how it was, and in this kind of detail. Thanks, therefore.

    Tammy cracked me up…. I got a daughter, almost same age, whose actions actually tops all the events of the day…

    7
  43. Never try to seek approval from children Biko, because you will be disappointed. My boys for example will stroke my beard when I provide yogurt, but the moment they have destroyed the drink, our happy relationship goes south.

    6
  44. An amazing piece here, who taught you how to put words together? Your choice of words is amazing! About your “date”, I hope and pray it happens and when it does let us see Chocolate man (forehead) having a conversation with Uhuru through a beautiful write up.
    Thank you

    3
  45. You could tell the president about your 40’s series and get him to give you a small one on one. He should know how big blogs are today, It’s a platform for people to get to know him.

    1
  46. I also wonder if he will end up reading this piece, but its certainly worth the time. Even for a president.

    I am a happier man now that I read this.

  47. Arrrgh! I was so looking forward to meeting Ohuru, to seeing you demistify him as I have no doubt you so masterfully would have!

    But he is the president isn’t he? We must all wait till he’s ready, broken as our hearts are.

    Great piece though, as always.

  48. hahahahaha Biko you’ve done it again….made my day!!! Sad that Ohuru had to rush to something untold…the article in funny, we all wish to meet the president one day and we all have many questions we could ask him but his schedule is tight I bet.
    I miss Tams stories…atleast I got to catch her mention at the end. Tams is just one kid with a personality that intrigues. She likes to keep you guessing lol.
    Make sure as soon as you interview the president we all get to read about it Biko…

    1
  49. If the president reads this, he will definitely call you, he is a Scorpion born the same day as me……………………..i bet my lifetime savings, he will call you

  50. What colour was your socks? you cant just meet the president on bluish suit and yellow socks Biko

    1
  51. I’m so sorry Biko. I can imagine how excited you must have been. Worry not, he will call you back…soon I hope.

  52. OK fellow Kenyans, you’ve heard. File your tax returns on time. Also, no BLUEBAND ON THE PRESIDENT’S BREAD, period.

  53. “He will probably call us back,” I tell her.

    “He has your number?” She asks her voice betraying mild admiration.

    “No, darling, but he’s the president – if he wants anyone’s number he can get it.”

    “How?”

    “I don’t know, maybe call Bob?”

    “Who is Bob?”

    Then my head begins to throb.

    1
  54. Ooooh cute Tamms, itabidi tumemununulia 16 year old glasses, those that can see when her old man is trying!

  55. Thanks for the laughs Biko. I am looking forward to reading about Uhuru @50something. (How old is he?)

    My funniest line was “The Lord works in mysterious ways he took away my sleep and gave it to Uhuru because I hardly slept at night.”

    And I’m with Ohuru on the Blue Band thing. That stuff is N.A.S.T.Y. period.

    3
  56. Biko, I love how you masterfully play with words.

    This particular article has cracked me up a good one….

    One particular one was of the President walking into the interview room with a towel tied around his waist, kicking a tin of Kimbo lying on the floor and screaming, “Wakenya wenzangu, I have said this over and over again, I DO NOT WANT BLUE BAND on my bread!” I almost woke up screaming myself: NO BLUE BAND ON THE PRESIDENT’S BREAD!

    Also please forget the 7 questions… The questions running through your mind are IT. Ask only those!!!

    3
  57. This got much of my attention!

    “Gate D is where the watus and vegetable deliveries come through. Onions and things. School vans as well. VIPs and dignitaries use other gates.”

    Life is indeed an animal farm!

    3
  58. Dude…this piece is a hit.damn it!! Think if I were the security guy(with huge hands) , I could just have let you in hehe so that I get to read your blog over and over again. .no wait , did I have to include this part?? . I’ll feel guilty if I dont say thanks for this one because I feel like u are watching as I type this post haha.

  59. “Not Yet Uhuru”, meaning you are yet to meet the president right? Creativity at its highest, continue doing what you so best.

    1
  60. …he’s wearing a suit with a Kanu flag!
    man you are hilarious.
    Okay, lets tweet, link this url link to the president @UKenyatta on #NotYetUhuru

    1
  61.  “Wakenya wenzangu, I have said this over and over again, I DO NOT WANT BLUE BAND on my bread!” <=LOL. I love the funny bits in this post.

    I wake up early and do 120 push-ups, 100 crunches… <= Colour me jealous of this discipline.

    “What does he want?” The president asks. “Do we keep insecticides here?”<= Tihihihi.

     I feel cheated because when you see them in those bikes, clearing the way, they look like cyborgs; robotic, efficient, cold.<= Sigh. Now I really wanna live in a world full of cyborgs and teslas.

    "You can feel it, you can smell it against the oaky smell of age and tradition. The “ghosts” of presidents past still linger."<= i love your very vivid description of state house and this is your best one yet.

    We are served by men in suits. <= Are there no women in this our grand stately mansion? Not that women should be service persons but so far from the gate to the dining area, no women mentioned.

     And if sometimes he wakes up and finds that some uncle from Kiambu has suddenly added him to a group he doesn’t want to be in.<= Don't you hate when this happens.

    What does he fear the most?<= I wanna know too.

    He was practically in the next room! I think to myself. So close yet so far!  <= I feel your disappointment.

    Who does this child take after anyway? I ask myself. Are these my recessive genes by any chance? <= LOL. Iza

    “I don’t know, maybe call Bob?”

    “Who is Bob?” <= Genuine question. Took me a minute to realize its Collymore. Also, kids at that age with questions.

    1
  62. But why Mr president? Why did you have to run? Was looking forward to that interview!
    Hope you get to ask all those other questions.
    Good read as alway.

  63. Eat life with a big spoon, even with a ‘NO SHOW’ you still manage to crack me up!

    One particular one was of the President walking into the interview room with a towel tied around his waist, kicking a tin of Kimbo lying on the floor and screaming, “Wakenya wenzangu, I have said this over and over again, I DO NOT WANT BLUE BAND on my bread!” I almost woke up screaming myself: NO BLUE BAND ON THE PRESIDENT’S BREAD’

  64. haha…..even my heart skipped a beat when they mentioned that the president has to rush somewhere!! I had positioned myself so nicely to enjoy the interview. He will come through, and it will not be long. Great piece though.

    1
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  66. Enjoyed every bit of it..its masterpiece. But why would people have a low opinion ofblue suit wearers? “Who has died?”. Really?

  67. Eti an uncle in Kiambu has added you to a Whatsapp group

    “Do we keep insecticide here?”

    Laughed out loudly in bus, I’m sure I got some curious look from fellow passengers. But was list bothered.

    Biko wewe ni mwenda.
    Mark my words someone will bring this post to His Excellency’s attention and I have a feeling that you will get an invite. And the two of you will hit it off and have a blast about which you will not be allowed to write about. When it comes, just enjoy it.

    3
  68. Tres bien Biko. Just to follow through that granaries and termites storo, it would be interesting if state house had a special room in the east wing with numerous ventilated shelves with all sorts of insecticides; Sprays, dust, granular, aerosols etc…….
    good read though…..

  69. Bikoooo!!! I am seriously laughing out loud in a mat….Thanks you for The gift of Laughter ….And thanks for sharing your talent with The world….keep writing brilliant stuff Biko!

    1
  70. Biko, you’re so funny. How you make a brief ‘fruitless’ trip to SH so hilarious is just incredible. And those thoughts/questions you had while in the waiting room border on treason or actually are…he he he. Na ulipe ushuru wewe!
    This one is as hilarious as the ‘Juice wa Mango’ article http://199.192.19.46/~bikozulu/juice-wa-mango/
    Great read!!!

  71. Guy:The door to the left bursts open and someone comes bearing an apology; the President is very sorry but he has to run, perhaps we can reschedule?
    BIKO: No tell him it’s BIKO. ……..Bikozul. ………

    Hehee Nice read Biko

  72. I always want to comment first but there is no way i will beat these guys not in this life. Who are these people who comment at the speed of light? Do they use Faiba, Safaricom or Zuku for WIFI? Does the admin call them when they are about to post something here?

  73. . I told God, “Lord, make Ohuru sleep well tonight, tuck him in early and please ensure that he doesn’t wake up in the middle of the night to go pee.
    The door to the left bursts open and someone comes bearing an apology; the President is very sorry but he has to run, perhaps we can reschedule?>>>> You probably scared him with your forehead chocolate man. Try wearing a turbine on the reschedule

  74. Hahahah!!!its hard explaining to those seated next to me why am laughing so hard.All I can do is show them your blog.Too funny.You should ask him the non scripted questions.

  75. Did you finally meet him? I was equally disappointed. Looking forward to a continuation of the story after you get to interview him.

  76. We should start a campaign to get Ohuru to meet you 🙂
    Until then, chin up. When you get to meet him you will have had yet another a statehouse breakfast.

  77. Reading all the Uhuru conversations with hisvoice in my head that just killed it plus that part with the president with a towel around his waist kicking a Kimbo can hehehe that really cracked me up

  78. If the president does read this article am sure you’ll be using a different gate next time you visit that place, PS I also don’t think he is the kind of guy to get worked up just because you wore a pair of jeans to go meet him
    #TGFT

    1
  79. Great piece Biko.
    I thought you might be interested in this challenge “Why are you proud to be a kenyan?”
    https://goo.gl/x7Zdak
    #magicalkenya

    1
  80. Great read! I too would want to ask Uhuru those questions..I hope you get to meet him and share with us your experience!

  81. You’ve made my night…Good job Biko!Hilarious is an understatement.Can’t wait for yet another article tomorrow☺️.

  82. Thanks Dedicated, I have some success. Plenty of people distribute my articles and find them worthwhile and that's what counts.If I blogged for attention, sent out my articles to infnueltial bloggers, picked fights and posted bikini photos, I'm sure I'd have more traffic. But I think the way things are is a more useful forum for a serious discussion about what's going on in America and the world.

  83. Am reading this in 2018 and meeehn its so hilarious……am reading 40’s stuff despite being under 20……my bff is saying am crazy…..somebody should tell her how humorous Biko is….haha