I have a few rubbish rules that serve no greater purpose in the grand scheme of things rather than help me steer my manhood to a greater, and more elusive, harbor. For instance, I don’t meet guys for coffee. I don’t shake hands in the little boys’ room. I can’t hold a conversation with a guy who tweezes his eyebrows, it’s distracting. I don’t meet guys after 9.00p.m unless it’s in a hospital or a bar. And I never say woishe. However, a few months ago I broke one of the rules. I met some guy in his office a few minutes before 9p.m. To my defense the guy’s name is Alexious, I mean, that sounds like a guy who wears a white collar for chrissake. A guy who takes care of wounded doves. A few weeks earlier, Alexious Mwiti and I had become friends on Facebook. The friendship was later followed by an inbox from him saying that his wife, an ardent fan here and a blogger in her own right ( www.mrsmwiti.com ) had always tried convincing him to check out my blog. I suspected he got tired of hearing my name in his house and wanted to put a tragic stop to it. I wrote back and said I had never heard of a Mrs. Mwiti in my life and that it was a mistaken identify and that there was no need for violence…if he was thinking of hunting me down. He wrote back and said he had something else in his mind; he had a preposition. I’m in the preposition business. We exchanged numbers. We got on phone. “I love your blog. Ever thought of moving it to a proper website?” I said it has crossed my mind. “I want to build a website for you.” “That’s mighty selfless and how much will you make of that in fees?” “Nothing,” he said. “Nothing?” “Yes, nothing,” he repeated. “Come on, something for something, never nothing for something. What’s your motivation?” “I love what you are doing. I want to help.” He said. Now I’ve been around for a while to know that there is no such thing as free lunch. Everything has a price. Everyone has a price. I was wary. The deal was that he was going to get me everything, domain name, build the site, pay for hosting then hand the reigns over to me. No questions asked, no cent from me. I agreed because he’s called Alexious, I just don’t see a guy with a name like that pulling a fast one on me. If he was called Johnnie or Philo or Mato, one of those street savvy names that sometimes you will find at Blankets and Wine I would have smelled a rat. Turned out he was serious, there was no catch. We set up a meeting; he was working late so he asked me to drop in his office in town. But before I went over to his office I told everyone where I would be in case I disappeared and my body never ever found. The lifts opened into a deserted 3rd floor, occupied partly by Kemnet Technologies, a small IT outfit founded by Alexious (www.kemnet.co.ke ). He’s a hustler. He was alone in his office. He didn’t seem to be carrying any concealed weapon. We sat on these fancy silver chairs in the small meeting area and made small talk. Alexious talks very very softly. You are compelled to listen to him. He speaks in that measured way of a doctor who is trying to explain to you your constant constipation problem. Everything slows down when he speaks everything drags down to a crawl. Hell, even my watch lost a few minutes when he spoke. He has a kind face and such gracious mannerism. And he is a very agreeable guy. He asked me what kind of site I wanted. I told him what I needed: a clean website, a website with acres of white space and no frills. A website that breathes. He nodded and wrote something on his notebook. I don’t want a website with images that compete with words; I ploughed on, this is a platform of words. Words are king here. I don’t want a pretentious website that is too important for its own good. If this website was a bar it would have to be Caribana not Havana. He grinned. I want sexy fonts, not fancy fonts, just sexy. He kept writing. I want widgets and all those fancy things that make it easy for people to share my site. I want a “like” button for those who are too busy to drop in a comment. He turned his piece of paper and continued writing. And I want a picture of a Toni Braxton on the left hand side of the blog, preferably wearing a small black dress. He stopped writing and looked up. “It’s a joke,” I smiled. He offered a creased smile. “May I ask you a personal question?” I said. “If you curious, I have built tons of websites before, so you are in good hands,” he said softly. My watch lost 5 seconds. “No, that’s what I wanted to ask.” “Oh-“ “Do you find Toni Braxton sexy?” I asked. He regarded me calmly as if he gets asked that question every day. “Uhm -” Uncomfortable laughter, “She sings well.” “I won’t tell Mrs. Mwiti, this is man talk. Nothing leaves this room.” “She sings well.” “Is that your final answer?” “She sings well.” OK, that last Toni conversation didn’t happen, I’ve made that up. The meeting ended after half hour. We shook hands. He promised to finish the job as soon as possible. I thanked him profusely. He got into his car, reversed and drove off and I wondered if he thought Toni was
really sexy or I’m alone in this obsession. I wanted a single image for this site, something profound but also telling yet simple. An image that told an abstract story. I sort the advice of some graphic designer one day over drinks. He had a few suggestions. “Have a picture of yourself up.” “Hell no, you only do that if you have a great smile, like James Murua.” “Who?” “Nairobi Living dot com? Don’t you read anything?” “How about we get the side of your face, looking away thoughtfully?” “Cheesy.” “Okay then, just the bottom half of your face then.” “Like my mouth and all?” “Yes.” “Gay.” Eventually I decided to look at a few photography blogs locally. I didn’t have to search far because I saw a picture on Matheka’s blog that I loved immediately. If you love photography you must know www.mutuamatheka.wordpress. A serious photographer, Matheka has a way of making pictures of Nairobi stir. They are gritty. The picture I loved is called the Walking Man, like Johny Walker, only he is actually going somewhere important and not towards a drunken destiny. The picture was taken a top KICC as he waited for a client to pitch up for a shoot. It was 6.29 P.M and the sun was just nodding off. Nairobi’s ever beautiful skyline loomed behind, inflamed by the sun, reluctantly sinking into its own mystery of the night. The picture is a merger of 6 photos shot from a tripod using a Nikon D40 which Matheka affectionately calls Didi. For this shot he used an 18-55mm lens at 18mm, ISO-200, 1/800 sec, f/8. Don’t even act like you know what all that means because neither do I. The subject is Matheka himself. He loves silhouettes, he told me and he wanted to capture the magic of end of day and tell the story using the concrete jungle in the background and himself in the foreground. There is a mystery in silhouettes, an understated and shy beauty. This picture spoke to me because him walking towards the right has right-wing implications which I subscribe to. I loved the activity of the sun behind him because even in its eminent demise, the sun still possesses an undeniable personality. But darkness is also a formidable force in its own right and so this picture is a battle of two arch nemeses; the prince of darkness and the prince of light, a cat-chase-tail scenario. Nobody quite wins. Nobody but Didi. I dropped Matheka a DM on twitter and asked for his number. Later I called him and asked him how much it would take to have that picture. He said, “I will give it to you for free.” I swear that’s what he said. Three days later an email pinged in my inbox bearing the subject; The Walking Man. Men of depthless generosity, these two gentlemen. Thank you guys abundantly, I’m forever indebted. This is high school ladies and gentlemen. Forget primary, where we just left. This is how it starts, the omega. This is where we will break our voices and grow hair on our arms. This is where we grow boobs. This is where we fall in love, and also fall out of it. This is where everything comes together but also where we strive to keep them together. But above all the rhetoric, above all the gibberish we intend to have fun, or rather I intend to. I’m excited at the prospect and I want to make you too. Thanks for joining me here, please have a seat and let’s break bread. Ps #URGENT: Have you sent Mpesa to 111 111 – Kenyans for Kenyans – help save a starving child’s life? No? How about it? As little as Ksh 20 will save someone’s life up north. It will be difference between life and death, literally. We can make a change in the smallest of ways. This is our chance and it costs us nothing.