Futuristic 254

Two notebooks, a blue and a black one. Both with different stories from extreme ends. 

In my first story I told you about the peace that comes from holding a pen, a link from my world to the universe. You also remember Mo jnr, he puts me to a challenge, “write what the mind doesn’t say”, COVFEFE!!! Haha, that’s the only word I manage, So we decide the mind is everything. 

On my Tron motorcycle cruising through Mombasa’s Old town on a calm Sunday afternoon. The only place that doesn’t change with time. The beast I’m on is attracting all types of glances my way. Outside Fort Jesus I park the baby. Two minutes later a guy appears out of a sleek delivery van, hands me some freshly made shawarma. This I requested ten minutes ahead by sending them a link via Chakula Mlangoni, the must have app that’s a favorite for every foodie. Well, in Mombasa everyone is a foodie and almost everything everywhere is food.

Wait, dont get lost here trying to search this app on your AppStore. Forgive me, this is 2030, not your average 2017 in the 254.

Back to my story, I give my thumbs up on the app and I’m on my way to South coast. 

The bridge linking the Island and the mainland is just revolutionary, the Chinese have done one magnificent job on this hybrid of infrastructure since the SGR days, the train service that changed lives. The bridge is also a public amenity by providing generous seating and deck width across the span for pedestrians to pause and enjoy the views of the Indian ocean. You have the option of the cable cars on the other hand which has been serving the common mwananchi good.


I get a call from my good friend Sir Allan, he’s in town for the Wishful Planners Conference. I had worked with him in the past on various projects and due to his good work he got selected as the Minister for Wishful thinking and attainable dreams vision 2060. We set up a date for the weekend.

My arrival at Southern Palms beach hotel coincides with the arrival of the cruise ship Madaraka 254, hundreds of passengers flock in and the tourist industry is booming, best in Africa as we speak.

At the reception there’s this beautiful dolphin in a magnificent giant of an aquarium just a few meters behind the lady at the desk. You can’t just pass by without enjoying the view for a while. I collect my card and a nice gentleman (an android robot) picks my bag.


Everything is automated, the room temperature and lighting is up to my desired conditions. This I requested upon booking. Using the hotel app on my phone I play some relaxing old throwback songs by the once legendary Nyashinski. I take a warm bath and switch on the news, as usual nothing new, same old politics and complains of switching the Nation’s capital to Mombasa. I’m off to bed.

I’m woken up by a nice breeze,not from the ocean but from an android robot that’s holding my breakfast at the side of the bed. Oh!! I didn’t tell you I’m on a floating bed, they call it the “cloud bed” and I’m surrounded by artificial clouds,the reason I keep coming back to South Coast.

I’m out of the hotel,the order of the day kick one thing off my bucket list. I settle for underwater jet skiing since it’s down there on my list and it’s available at the hotel. Ten minutes later I’m having an experience of a lifetime on this Kenyan built watercraft. I’m literally diving with dolphins and some friendly sharks πŸ˜‚. And No!!!! Nothing beats this my friend, top of your bucket list, yeah!!!

Back in my hotel room Sir Allan just left me a message, we are meeting at the floating hotel on Mombasa island. I freshen up grab a snack and request an Uber .

My ride is here and off I go, self driving flying Uber rides are the in thing my friend. A five minute journey to the island.


We meet with the minister, Sir Allan, he’s not in the best of moods, this he tells me is from trying to bring the first unicorn into the country πŸ˜‚. He’s impressed at how fast county 001 is growing with the rising sun and the fact that it’s beating other counties. What kills him most is the rumors doing rounds that Mombasa is about to be the new capital city. We argue on this matter for a while but the fact that the state of the art parliament is about to be commissioned puts our argument to rest.

Mombasa as I know is about to hold the biggest international food festival on the planet given its love for food. We agree this should be our next meeting and he swears that Mombasa will never be the capital city.

Here’s Sir Alan’s view on Nairobi countyπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌ

Nairobi has two broad categories: those who came by birth and those who came by bus.100 years ago, it was an inhabited swampy flood plain. Homosapiens evolved to their current species about a million years ago and it has been 6 billion years since the earth was created.

Therefore a 100 years from now Nairobi will be centre of a future continent island with Mombasa sinking to the bottom of the sea like Atlantis, it is already 60% covered in water. Currently there’s a frenzy of human activity in the kenyan capital: skyscrapers popping up in every corner, with the tallest building in Africa set to be in its upperhill district. A new railway cuts across the city, the 1st trip from the coast the ‘Madaraka (self-determination) express has already arrived and is operational. The second phase to the border with Uganda is already initiated, perhaps it will be dubbed the ‘Jamhuri (republic) express, since our neighbours in east africa have to make an independent decision to join our train of thought on the standard gauge railway. As it is the Congo basin as well as Rwanda and Burundi has been pivoting towards us on the ki-swahili coast. The rumour mill has it that a non-stop wagon is envisioned from Kenya to Cameroon. This coast to coast link will link the east african community on the Indian ocean rim to the door-step of ECOWAS on the gulf of Guinea in the Atlantic ocean.

JKIA is prepped to build a second runway, an airport is more than a tower and asaphalt. The current one hasn’t developed in half a century, the new one will last another 50 years. This geopolitical move to make Nairobi the gateway to Africa as a hub: anyone from anywhere in the world will make Kenya its first stop when visiting Africa. Africa is a country: many nations are scrapping visas for fellow Africans to facilitate free movement across colonial era boundaries set by Otto Van Birsmack who came into power by uniting the barbaric tribes of Deutsche-land. They are a controversial lot established between the capitalist west fronted by U.S.A and the leftist east conclaves comprising nostalgic soviet Russians and aggressive communist China. Africa must take the mantle and lead the global south into a new world order; PAX AFRICANA.


President Kibaki had a vision that was sadly stalled when the implementor, minister for environment Michuki passed on. It entailed making the Nairobi river navigable from Chiromo to Kayole; a noble and practical idea that is visible in all major metropolis’ of the world from New york’s Hudson, London’s Thames to Paris’ Seine. Think of the impact of cannals to the way of life in Venice and Amsterdam.

India and Brazil consider the Ganges and Amazon respectively sacred. For several millenia, the Nile has sustained Nubians and pharaohs. The Niger delta lends its name to Nigeria. North of Limpopo and south of Sahara, the deepest darkest heart of the Congo has the largest potential for hydro-electric power production. Ethiopia’s Renaissance gravity dam will be largest hydro electric power plant with an installed capacity of 6 thousand megawatts when it opens for business in July of 2017. Kenya, Tanzania and Zambia have an energy transmission line connected across them, in addition to the road networks linking the east african capital to the largest reserves of copper and a stone’s throw away from the platinum group southern africa states.


The future of the city at the wrist of the knuckle (Ngong means knuckle in maa-sai speak) will depend on its inhabitants being rational as its name suggests in the native tounge, Enkare Nyairobi ( place of cool waters). As the third head of state of the nation posited when commissioning the Thika super highway: it is obvious to anyone with eyes to see what we are constructing. This artery extends to Isiolo a geopolitically favoured rival but as Sun Tzu quotes in his resume to the king, the art of war, ” the stream overcomes the rock not by might but through ambition.” Mesapotamia flourished due to being between two permanent rivers, Euphrates and Tigris, while its capital Babylon exists today as Baghdad. Nairobi is between The Tana and Athi and one enjoys the shade of a tree whose seed took root before they were born.
            

              * director yells “cut, it’s a wrap”*

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Retrace your steps…… “Read”

So a good friend reached out and requested for a sequel, a brief part on our campus life as I didn’t get the chance to feature it in my first story.

University of Nairobi 2011, fresh from doing my CPA, I join The School of Economics. Here I’d still continue writing whenever I got the chance to, especially during my calculus classes or say when the lecturers were boring which most of the time they were. I’d scribble stuff at the back of my book and at the end of each session tear it out, make a small ball and dunk it away. Anytime I saw a blank page I pictured the opportunity to bring the invisible words to life.

You must be wondering how I made my notes. Well apart from printing out other student’s (which was the norm at any given campus back then),there was this girl who used to take them down on my behalf, she wasn’t from our faculty let alone our class but she’d attend most of the lectures with me. Thanks to her my notes were up to date and I never missed a thing.

Studying for the exams my mind would drift to other areas and so I’d pick up something at the library completely different from what were to be examined on, just to clear my mind or as usual, put life in the unseen.

Along the way in my second year after I change classes, I meet up this guy. He’d always show up late every evening and miss most of the lectures just to read something by himself. The first impression you’d get of him was completely different to the character he portrayed. He always had this big hoodie on,but there was something more to him when he spoke and you chose to hear him out.

In class he never took down notes and if he was not glued to reading something,he was away in a world of his own. At the furthest corner he used to sit, never paid much attention to the lectures, but come the end of each session,his questions would leave the lecturer and the whole class surprised 😳.

Here’s His upshot … ( from Sir Alan’s point )πŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌπŸ‘‡πŸΌ

Awaiting the inevitable which never came, so I found my way to a window seat. Hardly had I sat Bernard continued, did two texts come in blunder being the ringtone was the opening Riff off Pink by Aerosmith. Profile set to general hence loud as a horny donkey as I frantically tried to silence it, I must have pressed a wrong button for the song soldiered on I pulled out the battery like I was shuffling a deck of cards. That is when the inevitable statement came out his mouth “young man retrace your steps“. I quickly apologised to him and class and he let it slide. Class perplexed I presume its the first time he was ever lenient while I had no option but over compensate and pay attention to the orator who was boring and his findings shallow in no time I was staring at lillian towers drifting in and out.

When Bernard finished true to form I was first to raise my hand to ask a question although it was more of a critique on him not distinguishing between colonialism and imperialism, infact he hadn’t touched on the latter. After the class bernard laughed saying he avoided my question knowing he wouldn’t have the answer. Before the end of the class though the proffessor had open q&a session. How could I resist hadn’t planned for it but after staring at the expanded university way for an hour or so I querried him on whether the chinese will have the same impact as indians who came a century before. It pleased him.

Earlier in the month as he was lecturing a knock on the door occurred and a muslim lady entered made her way to you(Moulid), handed you a typed booklet we were to hand in as an assignment then left. He was impressed and said ” young man, I like that!”. The class laughed along.

Still earlier in the semester I was fashionably late as usual infact I hardly used to show up, I met you outside gandhi wing you intimated I shouldn’t bother going to room203 as proffessor Fred wouldn’t allow you in saying the inevitable “young man retrace your steps”. We ended up sitting on a form.

Basking in the sun like lizards(not van dame) staring at the abyss that was the fountain of knowledge monument.

YOUNG MAN RETRACE YOUR STEPS.

If it wasn’t for Ali shote convincing me the teacher and lesson were worth the hassle I would have missed an experience of a lifetime. When our C.A.T papers were given back, I had scored highest and the whole class wanted to and read my dissertation.

This ofcourse wasn’t the first time my think piece was read to the whole class. Back in high school my english teacher recited my essay on being class monitor a rowdy bunch that had topped the school academic ranking and archived it, when I shifted schools my new teacher also reprimanded the class for I was the only one who wrote a report and in the correct formart during an examination. My clique then used to play truant but one time I convinced them to go to the National library at Upperhill.

In primary school I got kicked out of class for reading a book.

The world needs readers just as much as it needs writers.
                                  Γ—Γ—Γ—Γ—endΓ—Γ—Γ—Γ—

Writing is all that’s left….

It’s 4:15 am, I hit the snooze button hard for the third time,procrastination seems to be my first action of the day, I’m up, it’s sahoor, well, I don’t feel like eating but since it’s sunnah I drag myself to the kitchen make a hot cup of tea(half glass to be precise). With my homemade mandazi from mama, I’m good with four pieces.It’s time for a new routine, cardio exercise for 20minutes,thanks to the internet I don’t have to join the gym to stay fit

I can’t sleep now that fajr prayer is an hour away, what to do with this extra time?; pick up a pen and put my thoughts into words?, watch a movie to clear my mind?, I stick to the latter and being my nostalgic self, I go for basketball ball diaries,not a bad choice with Leonardo DiCaprio and Mark Wahlberg as the lead cast.Few minutes into the movie and my mind isn’t there, I pick up my phone,scroll through different apps, Instagram-boring, mail online-gone through every article, Snapchat-no no, WhatsApp-no one is online, Facebook-no way, then I opt for Tumblr which has been dormant for a year or two, I scroll down to my old posts,Primal PrimaAbracadabra !!, It hits me!!! My peace comes from writing, should I get back into this? How about people bringing their own stuff into it, well, “let’s do this mou !!!”, a little voice shouts in my head.

Since there’s an app for everything,I decide to download some grammar app, bet I won’t  use it, haha, we laugh with the small voice. That should be my first step. At this point I’m making progress, “Moulid you have to take this seriously”, the little voice whispers again.

Midway through, I pause the app download then hit resume then pause,this goes on for a few seconds, “why should you mind about your lingua?!”, the small voice asks again, just save it for another day I convince myself.

So my mind runs back in time,what’s in writing and calming my anxieties?, the jitters and butterflies that comes from it,being alive?, frankly,when all that’s left is writing, is writing all that’s left??

Here’s a small reason why I surrendered and decided to go into writing,a small journey 

Midway and not my starting point,

It’s June 2007, half past eight on a Monday night,it’s dead silent in the room,bodies like zombies with their heads lowered studying hard. I can’t focus on my books, I look around to see if the teacher on duty might be stalking us behind the windows, but my eyes fall on this interesting lizard on the wall busy hunting houseflies, after watching its slick moves and tactics for a while, I decide to give it a name, van dame with a single ‘m’ out of respect for the greatest actor of all time. I flip to the middle of my excise book put down what I’ve just observed.

It’s 10 minutes before the night prep ends, I’m at the front desk and the zombies all  shuffle to face me, I’m a bit hesitant at first but what’s there to lose? let me entertain this bunch of dead souls and bring them back to life. One page down,the class is alive loving every word, there’s a new sheriff in town and everyone is laughing at the end of my second page.They now take note of the lizard, a new addition to our notorious class, they want more so I promise it’d be a regular thing, even the class prefect chips in, who would have guessed given that he was my biggest foe πŸ˜‚ 

This goes on and by word of mouth van dame’s story is spread to the other classes, few of the students from those streams join us for the last ten minutes of each prep every night, some on the window just to be entertained.Two weeks later on a Monday morning the famous reptile is lying dead on the front desk, it’s head smashed. There’s silence and a gloomy atmosphere in the classroom throughout the day,even the class teacher is notified. The killer gets away with the murder but van dame is a hero now even more than ever.

Fast forward to a year later I win Mr. Kangaru contest,equivalent to the school captain. Thanks to one Mr.Okwacho,My duties – attend every school function for any given club, write anything that goes on and the story be read to the whole school during assemblies every given Friday morning. The feeling is just out of this world, the popularity that comes with the title, the joy seeing smile and laughter on students and teachers faces. My audience has just increased!!!. This goes on for a while and they still cant get enough…..

Out in the wild world, my first job, every evening after work,put down my thoughts on a piece of paper,everything encountered. I share some on social media, the selected few with some close friends. I start a personal blog but they never tell you how hard it is trying to write for these  audience, with everyone being a critic out there, it doesn’t stop me anyway, “stick to the illusion” the little voice hasn’t left me.With a good Instagram following I share the stories but it’s hectic keeping up.I decide to shift to the new trend, making memes and vines but the latter is time consuming so I remove it from my list to focus more on my work.

June 2nd 2017, Friday morning, I realize my purpose is here,connecting the world through writing. “There’s an audience out there that needs a smile everyday, why not make the world your classroom audience?what are you waiting for?, pick up that pen , put everything down”, the small voice is back but this time with much optimism and a stance. I have no option but to listen to it. I give the small voice a name, he’s ok with “mo jr“. 

Writing, I realize gives me life. Its like I’m breathing,watching the sun set, or the unending pleasant smell of soil after it rains hitting me. Well, you get the picture…..

You’ll be hearing from us often πŸ™πŸΌ