Sign up with your email address to be the first to know about new products, VIP offers, blog features & more.

Sleep Whisperer.

Posted on 73 140

“Should I take off my clothes?” I ask.

I’m standing against the wall. She’s standing across the table. She has glasses on. The room is small and bare and functional, a place you could sustain any form of ritual. There is a cheap clock on the wall. The type you get at supermarkets for 400 bob. It’s a diligent clock. Diligent and quiet. Not one of those loud clocks that tell the time and make a ruckus. This one is a well-behaved clock that knows its place in society. It doesn’t announce itself. You only know the time if you want to know the time. And the time now is just after 11am. The sun is bright outside.

“You can,” she says, “depends on what you want.”

I want to feel better. I want to escape. I want her touch. I’ve been told it’s magical. Because people talk, you know. People talk because they want to share unique experiences. That’s why when someone eats a good burger they won’t shut up about it. You will run into them in the lift and say, “It’s been a while, my friend.” (Always refer to people as “my friend” if you don’t know their name.) And they will say, “I’m just around, how are you?” And you will say you are fine, you are just from lunch and you ate a terrible beef burger. The people in the lift will pretend not to be listening to this inane conversation as the people in the lift will often do. Except for this one lady who’s carrying a fruit salad in a plastic container wrapped tightly with transparent polythene. She’s a size 10 but in her head she feels like she’s a size 18, so she eats fruits every lunch and salad for dinner, no carbs. Plus, she has a wedding to attend and there is a dress to look good in. Also there is a rumour that her ex-boyfriend will be coming for the wedding because they share mutual friends. That douche bag. She wants to look good. Then ignore him.

This is the lady who looks up at you when you say you just ate a bad burger. It’s the mention of beef in that statement that makes her head turn towards you. It’s the palpitation of her heart at the very idea that there is someone in close proximity that just ate beef! The other guy in the lift will chuckle and say, “Well, if you have to eat a burger then eat a Jay’s burger.” We realise that we sound like spoilt influencers. Before you can say something, there will be a ping as the lifts stop on the third floor and he will say, “Well, this is me.” Then he will hold the door for the ladies to step out because not only does he know where the best burgers are, he was also raised well. The lady will step out and she will be followed by her self-inflicted fruit salad. “Going up,” the Chinese accented voice in the lift will announce.

I take off my t-shirt, fold it and place it on a chair in the corner. I notice my reflection on a small, rectangular mirror running along the opposite wall. I don’t know about you well-adjusted men out there, but there is always a reflex when I accidentally see myself in a mirror; I tend to instinctively curl my arms to flex my biceps. It’s a boyish thing that I’ve never been able to get over. They are not much as far as biceps go, but I flex them nonetheless. I then step out of my khaki pants and they join my t-shirt on the chair. I remove my watch and my silver bracelet (a gift from Patrick Mavros himself, whom I interviewed many moons ago when he opened his jewellery shop in Village Market. Go check it out. His work is art.) I stand there in my black underwear and my socks. A thought occurs to me; that there are men out there who make love in their socks. They take off everything and leave their socks on because apparently their feet get too cold. Oh, golly. If I was a woman and a man refused to remove his socks he wouldn’t get into my bed. Especially those men who wear happy socks. I’d ask him, “Should we wait a moment as you also fetch your red nose?”

I lie down on the table, on my belly, against the cool, clean sheets. She presses a hand on my back. Her hands are warm and reassuring. She hasn’t spoken much since I walked into this room, but suddenly she seems to be saying a lot with her hand. “I want you to relax,” she says. I close my eyes. I hear the passing cars along Ngong Road. There is a beep-beep of a small delivery van reversing downstairs. (I have a friend who can’t reverse-park without half her tongue out.) Her small “clinic” is right at the Shell Station, at the junction of Karen and Ngong Road.

Her other hand touches the back of my neck. “Tell me about yourself,” I say. She laughs a sharp, whip-like laugh that’s frayed on the end. Which means she doesn’t want to talk about herself. Not to me, at least. But my feelings are not hurt. All the hurt in me is in my neck.

She’s called Louise Tumaini. She’s visually impaired. She is, by my estimation, in her late 30s or very early 40s. She lost her eyesight ten or so years ago. She doesn’t tell me how. I ask her, of course, but she doesn’t tell me. She just sighs. When she lost her eyesight she joined Machakos Technical Institute for the Blind where Japanese trainers from JICA’s self-improvement program teach students the art of Shiatsu. This is a form of Japanese massage that uses finger pressure to correct internal malfunctions, promotes good health and also treats specific diseases. To mean they can touch some place inside your feet and your constipation will end. Or touch some place in your neck and your anxiety will end. I read that this method of massage lowers blood pressure, helps with blood circulation, headaches and migraines and is also good for your sex life. They don’t say how (I checked), but I hope it can help somebody lose their socks in bed. That is usually a good start, me thinks.

Anyway, I have been having insomnia lately. That and a ruined neck. When I stopped folding my pillows and went for physio at Sports Injuries and Wellness Clinic, my neck improved but the insomnia didn’t. I don’t know what causes insomnia, but if you threw a pebble in a supermarket queue, you would hit someone who knows the cure for insomnia. Nairobians are all doctors and psychiatrists and therapists and businessmen and detectives and cooks and social commentators and political analysts and soothsayers. Everybody has a cure for something. There are people who will tell you which herbal tea to drink to cure insomnia. I tried all that. I tried chamomile. I tried green tea. Some school of thought had it that if I switched my gym routine from dawn to evening I’d kill insomnia. It didn’t work. Some said sex at night helps with insomnia. Those are the same people who wear socks during sex. I read somewhere, in a group, that if you stand on your head for five minutes before bed, and all the blood leaves your feet and collects in your head you will have a great night’s sleep. It’s bollocks. When you stand on your head before bed you only end up feeling like your dinner is coming through your nose. That can’t cure insomnia.

Insomnia is a strange thing. You wake up at 2am or 3am and you can’t go back to sleep. You listen to the sounds of the night. Dogs barking and frogs squabbling in a nearby stream. You toss and turn. You read until you get tired. You go to the loo and then come back and watch something on Youtube. You giggle in the middle of the night. Some nights you hear a neighbour come back home playing a strange song from the 70s. Or 60s. You sit still listening to him reverse, the music loud enough for anyone to hear. It’s such a great song. After he has stopped his car, he sits in his car for a minute, waiting for the song to end because normally your favourite jams always start when just you get home.

The song goes; darling you, save me/ I know you save me/ darling you, save me/ honest you do/ honest, whooaa, darling, you save me/

Of course I’m curious to know what lovely song this is. So I get off the bed and stand at the window with my phone sticking out and I try and Shazam it but it’s too far off for the app to pick. It frustrates me. The song ends and the man slams his car door. I know I will never ask him about the song because he’s one of those old chaps who never talk to neighbours. He comes and goes, leaving only a trail of his cigarette smell. In bed, I’m bereft with the thought that I will one day die without ever knowing what song that was. As it turns out, many weeks later, I will hear the song at a bar and get pretty excited! I will promptly Shazam it and learn it’s by Sam Cooke, recorded in 1957, titled “You Send Me” and not the “save me” I was hearing.

The thing with insomnia is that it leaves you alone with yourself and with your thoughts. Your mind drifts as you lie there in darkness, the bedside clock glowing red like a dying ember. You think of things and people and events. You toss and you turn. Sometimes an idea will occur to me on something I’m writing. An idea to have a character with one leg. It will seem like a brilliant idea. I will know exactly what this character will say and how he will say them and I will get off bed, buck naked, and go to my desk and switch on the table-lamp, fire up the laptop, and when I sit to write this character with one leg, it will not seem as exciting anymore. I will think to myself; is this character interesting because of his lack of one leg or in spite of it? Would he get away with saying bad shit because he has one leg? Do I have to tell people why he lost his leg or should I keep the likes of Cliff Tall, here, guessing?

Then someone told me that Louise and her Shiatsu would heal my insomnia and my neck. And now she’s pressing my neck and my back and the soles of my feet. I don’t know what she’s using, because I’m lying on my belly and my eyes are closed. She could be using her fingers but sometimes it feels like she’s using the round end of rolling pin for cooking chapos. Or marbles other times. It’s not painful. It’s soothing. While she kneads and presses she often lets go of air through her lips, as if it’s a song or a tune she is releasing. I ask her if she thinks being visually impaired makes her better at Shiatsu. She says, “Definitely. Because I feel using my fingers. I see the pressure points with my fingers.”

“What is it like to massage very hairy people?” I ask. I’m just being problematic. She chuckles and doesn’t answer. She’s not the type who talks during these massages. She’s now on my lower back, pressing it through the thin sheet spread on my back.

“If someone came in here and never said a word,” I press on, undeterred, “and they lay on this table. Would you know what race they are by just touching their bodies?”

She thinks about it for a second, perhaps trying to remember which pressure point in a body can be pressed to shut someone up for an hour. “Well,” she says, “obviously, Asians are more hairy than black people like us.”

“True, but there are also some very hairy black people,” I say. “I know a guy. He’s all hair. You can see hair coming out of his collar–”

“Yes, but our hair is different from say a white person’s, or Asian’s hair. Ours is thicker. Also our skin, as black people, is tougher. White people were blessed with softer skins.”

“How is that a blessing? We are the ones who are blessed with tough skin. An animal will struggle to eat a black person,” I say.

Then I nod off. I always sleep during massages. It’s a bad habit. I can’t help it. The masseuse never seems to mind, unless I snore, which I wouldn’t know because you never really know when you are snoring. Speaking of which, there are certain don’ts that we, as well-adjusted Kenyans, should observe during massages. First, go easy on the moaning and groaning. It makes the masseuse uncomfortable. You are not in a blue-movie set. If you feel good – and you will feel good – just try and not get too dramatic with the sounds. Never say, “yeah, there! There!” Another rule, most places will offer those dreadful disposable pants that make one look like they are in a mental asylum. If they provide those, wear them. Don’t be that guy who insists on going commando. Some masseuse will gently register a complaint for your complete lack of clothing. ( “But I’m not completely naked, I haven’t removed my necklace!”) But also there is a difference between being nude and being naked. Nude is when you sit on a wooden stool for an artist to draw you. Naked is running across from the bathroom to the bedroom, covering your nether regions with your hands because you forgot the towel. Also, if you are going for a massage and you intend to keep your panties or boxers on, it goes without saying that they should be clean. Actually it’s good practice to keep them clean even if you are going to the dentist. And please none of that underwear with cartoons on them. You will only end up making the masseuse giggle and you will think they are giggling over what they are seeing. Also, most importantly; don’t ask for a happy ending. It’s not that party.

When I wake up from the power nap, I’m confused. It takes me a moment to wonder why I’m in only my underwear. That night I go to bed (without socks) and I read a bit then drift off to sleep. I do seven hours. I feel young. I feel light. I don’t know if it’s Louise who did her magic or if it’s my body that decided to succumb to sleep. I call Louise later and tell her that I slept. That she might have helped. Or the universe did. Or her fingers did. I wonder if she has insured her fingers. She should. They see. You could try her out if you are not sleeping or if your digestion is crap. Or if you just want to relax. Go because seeing is believing as the Stanchart Marathon [ http://www.nairobimarathon.com/) strapline goes. Louise might disagree, because she’s already believing even though she isn’t seeing because seeing is more than just having eyes. (Her number, 0726893141)

Ps: Have you registered for the writing masterclass? Info@bikozulu.co.ke

73 Responses
  • Zetti
    09.10.2018

    Miss this for who…nobody!!!

    3
  • Rose
    09.10.2018

    Don’t be that guy who insists on going commando. Some masseuse will gently register a complaint for your complete lack of clothing …. stuck hapo… 😀

    3
  • Shee
    09.10.2018

    I stand there in my black underwear and my socks. A thought occurs to me; that there are men out there who make love in their socks. They take off everything and leave their socks on because apparently their feet get too cold. Oh, golly. If I was a woman and a man refused to remove his socks he wouldn’t get into my bed. Especially those men who wear happy socks. I’d ask him, “Should we wait a moment as you also fetch your red nose?”
    This one was way funny I couldn’t resist laughing out loud….

    9
  • Adega
    09.10.2018

    Wow I’ve been an insomniac all my adult life and thats 20 years about. I haven’t had a 5 hour night sleep since i had my now 4 year old.
    I will look her up this week. I would love to feel the load of unslept sleep off.
    Thanks Biko

    9
  • Wesh - Peter Wesh
    09.10.2018

    “Yeah, there! There!” Hahaha sounds like something appropriate to say during a massage by nevertheless. I think people should also go easy with the mirror selfies at the spa and masseurs’ places. We get it, you are living a good life eating salad, drinking green tea and getting massages with only your necklace on.

    33
  • Harvey Malombo
    09.10.2018

    I wonder if you’ve insured your fingers, and your brain. Always looking forward to your pieces.

    9
  • Dikki
    09.10.2018

    That insomnia thing. Did it go away? Was it just for that day? Because I need help. I do maximum two hours sleep a night and it’s been going on for over a year now. I’m running out of juice, getting worn out by ten in the morning.

    4
  • Sylo
    09.10.2018

    The thing with insomnia is that it leaves you alone with yourself and with your thoughts. Your mind drifts as you lie there in darkness, the bedside clock glowing red like a dying ember. You think of things and people and events. You toss and you turn.
    And when you finally think sleep is catching up you keep tossing n turning with weird thoughts and before u know it,,its 4 and then 6 and you are forced to get out of bed to participate in real life.. Eissh insomnia yawaah

    8
    • Steve
      11.10.2018

      The people you’re thinking about are sleeping like babies. Places are going nowhere and events will happen whether you sleep or not. Insomnia is self imposed.

      4
      • Sunshine
        14.10.2018

        I never feel the need a leave a comment, but what can I say, your ignorance has inspired me.
        The good news is, your being here means you can read. You should do that next time, before making such an uninformed statement about a disease millions of people allover the world battle with.

        11
  • Sylo
    09.10.2018

    Do I have to tell people why he lost his leg or should I keep the likes of Cliff Tall, here, guessing?
    Well this could be me but then@cliff tall has it..

    3
  • Mark
    09.10.2018

    This is a fun story Biko.
    I have laughed and laughed and laughed.

    But then I got to wondering… If a good massage can cure anything (allegedly), would it cure flatulence? Perhaps a person who has the habit of eating horrible burgers needs help. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have a problem with flatulence and I have no desire to have my body stared at by a random stranger (probably due to my esteem issues) but wouldn’t getting a massage for a problem like flatulence contravene some of these massage etiquette rules?

    Especially that making noise one.

    Or the clean underwear one.

    But mimi sijui.

    I hope you sleep better, Biko. Have fun at the marathon.

    13
  • Githinji Mwaniki
    09.10.2018

    “Should we wait a moment as you also fetch your red nose?” Hilarious.

    “Yes, there…”

    2
    • Sheila
      17.10.2018

      I see you still read Bikozulu “my friend”
      Good stuff

  • Mushie
    09.10.2018

    The thing with insomnia is that it leaves you alone with yourself and with your thoughts. Your mind drifts as you lie there in darkness….so true

    If I was a woman and a man refused to remove his socks he wouldn’t get into my bed. Especially those men who wear happy socks. I’d ask him, “Should we wait a moment as you also fetch your red nose?”…because he can as well go the full clown way..haha

    2
  • Collins Sakwah
    09.10.2018

    As a writer, great ideas usually pop up in my head during insomnia. When you run the idea in your head, normally with closed eyes, the action and conversations in your head gives you the feeling of the Harry Potter movies.
    You have the Harry Porter in your head, you get off your bed and rush to your laptop to pull the Harry Potter movie from your head into the keyboard. You write the first three paragraphs with the expectation that you will produce something close to J.K Rowling’s Harry Potter books. When you go through your paragraphs at that moment, they don’t sound anything like Rowling.

    4
  • abdullah omar
    09.10.2018

    my friend!do they still have queues in supermarkets? strange when the shelves are empty!

  • Bundi
    09.10.2018

    Thank God your necklace is still on you,i was afraid you might have been naked(or is it nude,I didn’t get the difference?). If she can see the thickness of hair with her fingers,there’s no telling what other thickness she will ‘see’ and how it will compare to other thicknesses she has seen before. That can cause insomnia

    7
    • Mohasyno
      09.10.2018

      Haha, Bundi! You’d rather a blind masseuse compared the “thicknesses” than full glaring eyes amazed at how miserably your member is disadvantaged.

      6
    • The Granny's Corner
      09.10.2018

      Haha! I guess if one is too thick for her she touches that coma-inducing pressure point till she is done

      2
  • That-bloke
    09.10.2018

    haha, “there there” lol

    1
  • Hadi
    09.10.2018

    Question, how many tabs does your brain have on at any one time?
    Follow up question, does your brain freeze because of the many tabs?

    4
  • Judy
    09.10.2018

    Naked is running across from the bathroom to the bedroom, covering your nether regions with your hands because you forgot the towel…. now that is funny as hell

    4
  • spota
    09.10.2018

    Must be the magical fingers or just the thought that you have been set up for sleep. If that is what nude is then very few people can say they have ever been nude.

  • Bittok
    09.10.2018

    I wonder if she has insured her fingers. She should. They see……we should also insure our brains….good read Biko

    3
  • Beryl
    09.10.2018

    It’s not a transparent polythene that covers the salad container, It’s a cling film. aye?

    7
  • Joe Deveraux
    09.10.2018

    I had to look up that song by Sam Cooke, and my oh my. Now I understand why you were bereft, haha.

    1
  • clif_the_tall
    09.10.2018

    Yes I have laughed so hard. Got a confession. I have never gone for a massage. The reason is that I’m always very worried whether I will fit on the massage table or my legs will end up ” floating” all over. How big is the table?? I’m also afraid that I may end up saying things like hapo hapo . Talking of underwear’s, I remember when I was a kid, my mama used to say, ” Make sure you always in clean underwear. Just in case you get into an ‘accident’ you do not embarrass me. ” So far, so good.
    Biko, the chap with one leg might have been caught in the act and his leg was slashed. But again, he still has two legs If you know you know.

    Ohhh Sam Cooke Music is great!! Grown folks music.

    25
    • The Granny's Corner
      09.10.2018

      Two legs! I guess I know. You would have to place the reservation in advance Cliff. With a “Wide load” kinda banner only this time addressing the vertical dimension. Things will never live to experience. Unless….

  • Grace
    09.10.2018

    I should try this Louise lady. My digestion is crap. My sleep is also crap!

    2
  • Adobi
    09.10.2018

    Hahahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhha, the cartoon underwear part has me rolling on the floor.

  • Black Parrot
    09.10.2018

    Kumbe am not the only ninja with sleeping issues…we just might have discovered a cure

    1
  • David Mwenda
    09.10.2018

    Her ad should be “We cure sleep and digestion with our fingers”

    1
  • DM
    09.10.2018

    Do guys memories paragraphs to come write them in comment section?

  • Sare
    09.10.2018

    I wish there was a sleep bank. Some days I would sleep for six hours and deposit the other two hours in the sleep bank. The hours saved would come in handy during those long transatlantic flights, jet lag would be a thing of the past. Alternatively I could sleep for 10 hours and have more sleep than I need which could be used all weekend to binge watch The Sopranos for the third time and have no issues functioning come Monday morning.

    3
  • Keshy
    09.10.2018

    I’ve had insomnia since 2013 and I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world. I guess it’s because I adjusted but also I get really creative then because the world is quiet and I can think without interruption.

    2
  • My first and last massage was had in Singapore. It was brutal, she kneaded, poked and prodded my back, like she was molding me into a doughnut. I didn’t feel any relief, just soreness that took days to normalize.
    The best cure for insomnia is a glass of warm milk and some chocolate chip cookies just before bedtime. You’ll be knocked out for eight hours straight.
    Another; just be very relaxed before sleep time. If you have kids, they should be in bed by eight so you have time to wind down and be quiet. Listening to Hillsong or calming praise and worship music does it for me ie a favourite of mine is “Came to my rescue.” You will be knocked out flat, and oversleep. I hope your boss is understanding.
    Lastly: Lay off alchohol. Have green veggie smoothies for breakfast (pureed spinach, ginger, celery, lemon, moringa, chlorophyll, wheatgrass, lemon etc). The smoothie may taste nasty but it will help you get shut-eye. You should be on a supplements regime: supplements such as melatonin signals your brain that it’s time to sleep, valerian root, magnesium, lavender, passion flower, gingko biloba.
    You will morph into sleeping beauty minus prince charming and the seven dwarfs. You welcome.

    10
  • Tee Muriithi
    09.10.2018

    haha.apparently i always have have sex wearing nothing but my socks.u wudnt understand it biko,neither does my wife.

    1
  • I.
    09.10.2018

    It’s good to know we are many ” living with insomnia” (if there is such a term). I have tried many things but they haven’t helped. I am now taking night showers using a bedtime baby soap with natural calm aromas. They say it can help a baby sleep better, I hope it helps a mama too. If it doesn’t then I will go for the massage that got Biko seven hours of sleep.

    2
  • All the spinsters in the house must be thinking, that’s way too much of a fuss over socks.
    When God decides it’s time, and the hubster finally manifests, he’ll be allowed to wear socks during sex if he so wishes. Heck, if he wants to play dress up, perhaps be the tooth fairy or Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer, his wishes will be granted.

    5
  • John Jim
    09.10.2018

    After reading this am motivated to have my first massage ever,not because i have insomnia but maybe it will cure an illness i would have never thought i have .

    4
  • Martin
    09.10.2018

    Funny that I am going to the doctor tomorrow for insomnia. I should probably check out Louise.

    2
    • Joel
      10.10.2018

      There are sleep doctors? Bro, please post the prognosis after the visit if you don’t mind. Decluttering one’s life is also recommended.

      3
      • Dee
        11.10.2018

        Funny how in life we have different problems. While people are seeing doctors and Louise for insomnia, I sleep too much. I can easily do 12 hours a night. Sad part is I’m almost always late to work because I just cannot wake up. I thought my bed was too comfy, so I resorted to sleeping on the couch on week nights, that didn’t work. I have set 50 alarms between 5 and 6 a.m,still doesn’t work. I have even tried sleeping without covering myself in the hope that the cold would wake me up with no luck. Do sleep doctors cure oversleeping too?

        3
  • Leona B
    09.10.2018

    There! Oh yes, most definitely there!
    Biko, too funny
    Always makes my Tuesday’s

  • Lucy
    10.10.2018

    And here I am reading this post at 01:11am coz I can’t sleep! I’ve literally figured where I’ll have my wedding, my gown, who will be on the guest list, lol…. And I still can’t sleep

    8
    • Bedan_The_Detective
      10.10.2018

      Hahahaha… Makes the two of us

  • Bedan_The_Detective
    10.10.2018

    Could be I am insomniac because I sleep in my happy socks sometimes… Wait, today I don’t have them on but still awake…

    Maybe I should try the massage some day soon.

    Great and hilarious read Chocolate Man.

  • Marko
    10.10.2018

    A very good piece Biko. Insomnia can be a real problem.

  • Chichi
    10.10.2018

    I once in a while love me some overnight fridge stored boiled pumpkins. I await in glee for the following morning. If insomnia strikes I won’t help but think of how best to munch it. I have it with a hot cup of chocolate, then black coffee, then hangover tea (not what you think), I try it out with several teas and coffee (in my thoughts) before I actually enjoy it with some masala tea when am up.
    I nurse my anxiety all through Tuesday to read me some Biko piece on Wednesday morning.
    It’s a ritual I intend to sustain. Also,
    If my crappy digestion and insomnia is guaranteed some healing, then maybe I should visit this Louise lady.

    1
  • Rehema Zuberi
    10.10.2018

    I read somewhere that having socks on during sex actually helps in peaking through session. I don’t know how scientific or tested and proven that is but if you have to have socks on, then do it, especially the happy socks.
    I feel like I’ve read about Louise’s magic somewhere. So inspiring. The Japanese have got to be the healthiest people alive with their Shiatsu.
    I hope people don’t misunderstand insomnia for a few days event, if you stay up to 2am tonight, that’s no insomnia buddy!

    https://wp.me/s8aKAO-pumping

    2
  • Rita
    10.10.2018

    You listen to grown folk music, that’s impressive.

    1
  • PK
    10.10.2018

    The guys at Polycare Centre were telling me about this Shiatsu technique. Your article made me think about it more seriously. Massages or shiatsu should always be given by blind guys me thinks.

  • Mwenginator
    10.10.2018

    Always enjoy reading your funny articles. I would be in a joint with some Kenyans and just share your links like you mentioned people like to talk about good things 🙂
    I had a neck pain but mine was cured by physical therapy and doing shrugs with weights.
    I’m glad & grateful here in US we can get Chinese, Thai or regular massages.

  • Dr. Cliff
    10.10.2018

    Being around people with bad energy always causes insomnia.

    4
  • Mulwa
    10.10.2018

    “Should I take off my clothes?”
    My best read ever.

  • Becky
    10.10.2018

    Did everyone leave ? Why are there no comment

  • Chambers
    10.10.2018

    Maybe Louise will help me with my constipation ,am going!

  • Nduta Mburu
    10.10.2018

    Hi Biko! me being crushing on you for a while now I love your work

  • Marvin Gaye
    10.10.2018

    Am new here. I love it. My lecturer told me to read this blog but I never bothered, now I wish I had started earlier coz I have alot to cover. And its all worth it.

    2
  • Judd
    11.10.2018

    A good read Biko.I hope to see Louise for my migraines

  • Eva
    11.10.2018

    Interesting I get to read this at 3am whilst struggling with insomnia….more so tonight because I went to bed at around 8pm and thus I have already done my 6hrs. *A date with Louise marked*

  • Salome Caroline Gachiku Wandui
    11.10.2018

    “This one is a well-behaved clock that knows its place in society. It doesn’t announce itself.” Got stuck here because it was just too hilarious and it could have been a metaphor.

  • Victoria
    11.10.2018

    I wanted to get myself one those cheap clocks. Now I am, the reviews are impressive ‘diligent and quiet’

  • Kabugzz
    11.10.2018

    Loved all the bits and pieces of this piece *insert upside down smiley*.

  • Alex
    11.10.2018

    @Bikozulu, you always make the most mundane of situations quite laughable – you are a true gift from God!

    2
  • Keya
    11.10.2018

    Biko: I am stuck at this part, “…and I will get off bed, buck naked, and go to my desk and switch on the table-lamp, fire up the laptop…” You sleep buck naked? Then sit at your desk-buck naked? 🙂

  • Milka Maina
    12.10.2018

    Haha!! Her self-inflicted fruit salad

    1
  • shadow walker
    12.10.2018

    Don’t ask for a happy ending. Definitely not that party…

  • Tabz
    15.10.2018

    Wow. This just came up on time. Just when I have taken 1..2..3……4 piritons but not even any sleep! We need help with this thing. Also, that’s a great piece.

  • Wesh - Peter Wesh
    16.10.2018

    In an album rappers will often dedicate one song to someone special. “This one goes out to my momma…”. They will then pour out heartfelt messages in witty lines. Always a nice gesture for the culture. No rap album, in my book, is complete without that one song.

    I feel like you did that in this post. One for the family. A show of love. When Tams is all grown and reading these posts for nostalgia’s sake, she might re-read this one. Maybe more than once.

  • Waitherero
    17.10.2018

    I’ve always wanted to comment on your articles.Chuckles. At 2am having my routine insomnia , i go through each piece like its your last. I refrain commenting , coz well…you have a lot of comments….your articles are my shiatsu

  • Silverboy
    23.10.2018

    Thanks Biko for this one.I’ve been Loiuse’ place twice,I was impressed.These days I sleep

What do you think?

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *