All posts by Sarah Haluwa

About Sarah Haluwa

I'm a 28 year old lady who's passionate about writing and crafting.

The Grandpa’s Lingerie Shop. . 

My friend and I were out on a little shopping expedition on Saturday. I normally love shops with male attendants since you can be assured of getting the fairest of prices expecially when you give them a cheeky smile that would last them through the next 2 Christmases. But today was different. My friend wanted to restock her collection of inner wear, thongs to be specific, and the person manning the shop was this Somali guy who was more or less the age of my grandfather. On top of that, he had a hearing problem. Who lets a partially deaf grandfather man a lingerie shop? 
Anyway, things took a much more awkward turn when after shouting the word “thong” several times, guy didn’t know what the hell that was. I summoned my friend to the corner and adviced her that maybe we should look for an alternative shop but she wasn’t close to giving up just yet. We tried everything, writing it on a piece of paper, drawing it even but guy is looking at us like “whaaaat?”. The only swahili word I know for thong is too obscene, shouting it to a grandpa was a no-no. I feared the word might make him permanently deaf. 

So as a last resort, my friend practically demonstrates what a thong is. She aims her behind at the guy and without even a hint of embarrassment she shouts “the one that divides the mountains!” while trawling her two index fingers on her butt to indicate how the thong normally fits. Guy was looking on, eyes large like saucers. 

I subconsciously inspect my friend’s derriere and think maybe she was exaggerating a bit on calling her assets mountains, they were more like road bumps…buuut that’s not the point. Thankfully grandpa gets it and he produces this array of very beautiful thongs. What’s more? Thanks to my friend’s butt theatrics, we even got a 25% discount! I wish my friend had an inch or two to her butt, maybe we would have walked away with free panties . 

The Rich, The Pure and The Not-So-Blind Date 

A friend, desperately in need of a favour called me the other day. She wanted me to accompany her to some date with some guy she met at some place (obviously from some shady dating site). When she tells me the guy is a foreigner, I assume she’s just scared and wants us to go die in twos if it ever came to that but it wasn’t the case.

She had lied to the guy that she was pure…untouched.. untainted (you get where I’m going with this, yeah?) ..and that she came from a really respectable background, that her parents won’t allow her to leave the house without her sister’s company (I assumed that I was to play the role of her sister even though our differences could be spotted by a blind man thirty kilometers away).

I couldn’t help but laugh a little inside. Pure? My friend?.. Is she nice, yes. Is she kind, very. Is she pure enough to sacrifice to the gods in exchange for a gift of rain like our ancestors did in the “golden” days? Hell no!. If we did that, We’d be slapped with 40 years of famine and those who survive that will probably face a plague of horny camels and they’d be plowed to a horrific, gruesome death…that’s how mad the sky spirits will be. Not to judge but come on. Lady has been through men more times than I change underwear.

Anyway, so date day came. My friend had told me it wasn’t something fancy and I didn’t need to dress up so I showed up at the pick up point in some old jeans and a t-shirt. Obviously she had withheld information from me as she appeared wearing this beautiful flowy dress, eyebrows looking like she had glued two black bananas on her forehead. I believed she had given me wrong information just to throw me off my dressing game and diffuse what she thought was a possible threat.

I felt like a third wheel the whole date. The couple was laughing, feeding off each other’s plate and I was just sitting there looking like a depressed, butch lesbian bodyguard. I was so thankful when it was time to head home. Guy had a chauffeured expensive car and as expected the lovely couple sat in the back while the “helps” silently co-piloted in the front.

A few minutes into the journey, car slowed down then came to a halt at some deserted place. A few foreign words were exchanged between driver and the boss then driver left the car. I was getting worried at that point but since my friend had told me not to leave her alone with the guy at any point, I stuck on.

Silence engulfed the car then suddenly giggles pierced the tense air. I turned my head, not because I wanted to spy on them but coz I was on edge and just about anything could startle me. What I saw cannot be described without attracting censor banners. Let’s just say one of my friend’s legs was visiting her relatives in Coast while the other was seeking out her future in-laws in Nigeria. Ladies and gentlemen, I saw the real meaning of “flexibility” in 3D.

I couldn’t even move for fear of looking where I shouldn’t. I fumbled with the door, eyes closed but couldn’t locate the handle. The torture! . In the back, it was all fun and games. Giggles intensified. “your hands feel weird down there”, my friend quiped in between hearty giggles.Two minutes later her giggles stop and her voice raises. “WTF are you doing?! … It feels like you are scratching an airtime voucher!.. Do you even know what you are doing?!”

Ouch! Dude did a shoddy job representing his country. And as it happens, he had an ego bigger than a melon. To cut the story short, let’s just say my jeans and rubber shoes came in handy during the long walk home unlike my friend who had to walk barefoot as the road wasn’t compatible with her heels.

Family Matters…. The Treachery of Our InLaws 

Not so long ago, my beloved cousin got hitched to this very beautiful lady. We were all surprised, not to speak ill of anyone but my cousin wasn’t that much of an eligible bachelor you know. He is not so good looking, isn’t wise with money and he stammers… a lot. I wondered what this gorgeous lady loved about him but again love is in the eyes of the beholder and we were just thankful that we finally got a sister in law as we were almost giving up. 
Just a few days into the relationship my cousin begged his folks to go pay a retainer fee for the lady as he was worried she could wake up from her hypnosis and leave. So we went, paid this ridiculous amount as bride price (we had to auction off everything, including our eyelashes, just to meet the amount). A simple wedding followed afterwards, with the most terrible kiss I have ever seen…Guy went teeth first for the kiss.. Yikes! 

7 months into the marriage, my cousin calls me to tell me they just had a bouncing baby boy. Quick calculations in my head don’t add up. I had to go see to believe. When I got to the hospital a few of my inlaws were already there. They stood in two’s, speaking in hush tones. I went in, saw the baby and i knew why. Baby looked like he was straight from Somali. Just add some stained teeth and he’d be like “look at me, I’m the captain now”. (you might need to watch Captain Philip to get this) 

I called my inlaws to a side bar and raised my concerns. They all feigned surprise and told me all newborn babies look alike and I shouldn’t  draw a conclusion just yet. I agreed though my gut feeling told me otherwise. One month,  Two months…  Nine months… Still no change. Family members were furious but my cousin put his foot down,declaring the baby his and case closed. I don’t know what kind of lies the lady is feeding the guy to make him this dumb,as much as he wasn’t smart enough to begin with. 

Our inlaws, we are regrouping and soon we’ll be  coming for our refund. Be prepared. 

Of Shagz, Latrines and Blind Bats…. 

A friend, who shall forever stay unnamed, invited herself to my home last Easter. This friend of mine lives in Nairobi and had never been to coast before. We met during my university years, almost half a decade ago. Then our friendship like most, hit a snag.  So I was surprised when she started contacting me towards the end of February this year. Texts intensified in March, she addressed using sweet names like “swiry”, “sis from another mother”and I knew she must be in need of a favour coz no one likes me that much. 

She chose the perfect moment and popped her question.  She wanted to visit my family in coast and I couldn’t say no.  My friend  probably thought just coz we live in coast, our house is somewhere in the middle of the ocean. That we woke up in our bikinis, drink coconut milk tea as we brush our hair with naked fish bones all day long.  Shock on her! My parents live so far from the beach….So far away that even if we had nostrils as wide as SGR tunnels we’ll still not be able to catch  a whiff of the salty ocean water. 

The big day arrived and brought my friend with it. I picked her up from the main stage and took her home. She stood out like a sore thumb from the rest of us. She wore very  black lipstick to match her soul, heels too high that  you could see your future from up there plus a tiny pink dress.Since my friend is a diehard member of the pantyless society of Nairobi, the hanging parts were all wobbly and floppy.  My parents at that moment are probably wondering what kind of crazy I dragged into their home. 

Minutes into her visit, my good friend tells me, through her nose that  she needs to visit the “little lady’s room”. Her words, not mine. I take her to the latrine outside. Her face goes blank. “what’s that hole on the floor?”, she asks in-between major  eye rolling and hair flicking. “we use it to play golf sometimes?”, I joke to diffuse the awkward moment. Her face is expressionless, maybe due to the stack of makeup on her face. I explain to her like a little kid that that’s where she was to take her business and I leave. 

One minute later my friend storms out screaming, her tight dress gathered up on her waist. I was a little confused at first then I saw it. Little leathery black flapping wings in between her butt cheeks. I figured that when she squatted to do her business, a bat came flying up and in a moment of panic and perfect timing, she clamped it’s head between her butt. 

I wanted to laugh so bad at that moment but that would have made me a horrible human being(which I am sometimes). So I tackled her down and yanked the bat to freedom from the hell holes. That was a not so proud moment for her. I blame myself for not telling her about  the bats down the hole. Maybe it would have saved us a future endangerment law suit. I’ve never seen nor heard from my friend ever  since.  

My friend, if you are reading  this, we are currently working on installing a WC. Hope you’ll visit us again for Christmas. 

My Matatu Adventures….The Spying Game 

My favorite passtime when I’m in a matatu is reading whatever content the person in front of me displays on their phone’s screen. I have seen it all, from birthday wishes to confrontations …. from breakups to flirtatious chats. Today was particularly special for me. The gentleman in front of me had set his phone at at angle that I could read without straining. And thanks to the gods of vitamin A, my eye sight’s perfection is something close to an X ray. 
The exchange was quite easy to follow….he had travelled all the way from Nairobi to meet his Internet clande. The chats were too sweet…and I got so engrossed. As the mat came close to Kilifi, the guy sent a text to the lady that he sees a bridge ahead. The lady quickly replied, informing the guy to alight at Tuskys supermarket. The guy typed that he didn’t know where Tuskys is but before he could hit send, I felt my lips move accompanied by some strong vocals “Tuskys ni hapo mbele” 

I froze as the guy turned, obviously shocked. I was just too embarrassed. Why don’t car seats come with an eject button?

Adventures from the Plot… The Gay and the Sleepless 

Sometime back an incident happened in the neighboring plot, something so irky and disturbing that no one has ever had the spine to talk about it since. Some family travelled upcountry to show off their beautiful newborn baby to their kin. The guy, who was a really respectable person in our society, traveled back earlier due to work demands. He expected the wife to be back in a week or so.
 Unfortunately, the lady had a falling out with the her in laws and proceeded to take the next bus home. She arrived quite late, almost at midnight. Husband’s phone was off so she took a motor-taxi home with baby, luggage and all. On getting home, she noticed the light was on and I don’t  know whether it was her gut feeling or what but she suspected that the husband wasn’t alone inside. So she crept to the bedroom window and heard sounds that can only be compared to people having simultaneous heart attacks. Instead of confronting the event in private, she woke couple of neighbors up to back her up just in case the hunter became the hunted. The couple of neighbours invited other couple of neighbors and pretty soon everyone was  outside to witness the first of its kind event. You’ll have to note that back then, such things never happened in this area. 

Once the lady was satisfied with the number of spectators who had loyally showed up, she violently knocked on the door. Silence. Some people volunteered to break the door and she obliged.   5 minutes, the crowd was in. Never underestimate the power of a drama hungry crowd. 

Lo and behold, there were two half nude men inside and not a woman as we all expected. It happens that secretly, the guy was gay. We scratched our eyes till they bled, in attempts to unsee what we just saw. People slowly filed home in deadly silence and the event was never spoken of again. That was also cemented by the fact that the family was gone the next night. 

…. And that’s why, ladies and gentlemen, you should keep your marital problems contained in your home. 

My Adventures at The Traffic Police Checkpoint 1

​I was passing through a police check just the other day. My brother for once had let me drive though I knew he still had trust issues. He had strapped a thick helmet tightly on his head, together with a mouth guard, knee and elbow pads. I didn’t care though, it was my day to shine. My moment in the limelight wasn’t as gracious as hoped coz I kept on screaming in fear every time I saw a truck coming at us or how my hair stood on end when I tried overtaking and came face to face with a fellow probox driver. The driver honked non stop and hit me with full lights. Where is the honor among probox drivers? 
Once way back I was driving with my father and we saw a guy with a similar car struggling to get in to the highway. My dad stopped and gave him way. There was a connection between them, the silent code. You drive a machine like mine, I respect you. 

But noo, not the probox. There is no code. Probox will splash muddy water on you and probox will zoom so close past your window and send your umbrella skirt flying up. My people, fear the probox. 

Anyway, back to the story. So we got to the traffic check point at Kilifi Bridge. A policeman came over, smiling from ear to ear. He shook my brother’s hand then shook mine. I could sense some disappointment as he shook mine but I couldn’t understand why. He went to the back of the car, checked the boot and peered through the back windows. He then returned to me and offered his hand again. Thinking maybe I didn’t do it well enough the first time, I engulf his hand in both of my palms and gave it a prolonged vigorous shake. I even ask about his family’s health as I do it. From the corner of my eye I see my brother looking at me like I’m some sort of loco. He closes his fist and points to the policeman with his chin. Message received. I offer a fist bump to the very shocked policeman at that point. He signals us to leave. I feel so superior in my ignorance. It was a proud moment for me until my brother later tells me that I was supposed to have 50 shillings in my palm when I shook the police man’s hand. 

I guess we really do need to pay them some allowances. They deserve some kaluma at the end of the day to massage their painful shoulder joints and some deodorant for their ever exposed armpits  as they flag hundreds of cars down to a stop. 

Have a bribeful day friends! 

Adventures From the Plot…. The Unauthorized Shaving Incident 2

After that “unhairy” incident last month, it was only natural that my neighbor will retaliate. And she did, guns blazing. She had secured the services of a famous witchdoctor in our locality, tagged the “mean grandma” for her efficacy of smoking out witches. As usual, I was there to witness the event as I’m too idle since people stopped posting their personal dramas on facebook for my benefit these days. 
I squeezed my way through the crowd to earn  a VIP spot, a few steps from the witchdoctor. The victim was standing next to the old lady, crying inconsolably. I could sense some pretence in her grief. I guessed she just wanted more sympathy coins in her pouch. I like her a little less now since she openly claimed that the “witch” should visit the rich people in those iron sheet houses( my plot) instead of fellow poor people. Some nerve!

 

To the east, I could see the purported “witch” cleaning an old woven basket in front of her house. I had previously heard that she uses the basket to “fly” out to undertake her “missions” at night. I had almost been tempted to go ask her for a business partnership. Can you imagine the much money we can make offering fool proof, traffic free transport to people? Hell, you wouldn’t even need a visa or passport to visit countries abroad! Buuut, that’s a topic for another day.

So there we were, waiting anxiously for the witch to be revealed. 

“I have brought with me my agents, they will lead us to the witch’s house! “, the witchdoctor shouted, opening a bag to reveal 5 snails. I laughed a little at this point believing that was some sort of mockery. Obviously by the time the snails crawl to the next house it’ll be nightfall. A few people shared my views and were threatening to leave. Shock on us! The snails started galloping like miniature horses and that’s when I knew that place was no longer for the faint-hearted. There’s a cloud of dust where the victim stood two milliseconds ago. People were running in all directions. Crash! Crash!.. Some of the snails faced the wrath of my dusty feet. I ran so fast that I couldn’t feel my legs, flaring my arms like drowning man. 

“If you are going to ride on my back, the least you can do is just stay still”, I heard a voice. What in the world?! I opened my eyes to find myself on the back of Jayjay, the village’s most muscular guy. I must have hopped on it in the heat of the moment or maybe I fainted and he carried me.. I don’t know . I’m just glad I opened my eyes when I did coz I am not sure whether he was saving or kidnapping me. 

I then took refuge in a shop two villages away and only returned home at dusk. I heard the witchdoctor had packed up and left since she 4 of her agents had met their death during the chaotic episode . Then again, no one was there to witness the direction the last surviving snail went to and so the operation was deemed to be null and void. 

Adventures From the Plot…. The Unauthorized Shaving Incident 1


It’s very early in the morning and I’m still trying to catch the last moments of my sleep before my alarm goes off when I hear very high pitched screams from the neighbouring house. I strain my ear to listen what the scream is all about as nothing beats a large serving of village drama very early in the morning. 

“Whoever you are, come back and shave the other side too.. Shameless witch! “, a woman cried out. Now that’s the kind of drama you cannot afford to miss so I quickly run outside. From the little bits of outbursts between the dramatic screams, I learn that the woman believes (evidence was there) that someone came and shaved a better part of her “unmentionables” during the night. Can you believe that? This poor woman woke up and realised the bush on the left side of her “unmentionables” had been mowed. Clean shaven(weird as it is, I had to see to believe ) Clearly, she went to sleep with her bush intact coz otherwise she wouldn’t be this agitated . While some were lost for words, others blamed some poor old lady who allegedly doubles up as a witch during the night and majority of us laughed and high fived. 

I know I’m a terrible person, laughing at a grim situation but come on, the whole situation was kinda hilarious. I mean, what kind of person shaves someone in the middle of the night? If indeed this was a witch, what was his or her intention? Did the “electricity” go off as she was in the middle of her job that’s why she left without finishing the other side? Or her clippers broke down? Maybe shaving on one side was the new style in town and she was simply initiating the woman into the trend? Could be the victim simply sleep-shaved (is that a thing?) 

I need answers but in the meantime, where can I get myself a pair of stainless steel panties ?

My Matatu Adventures…. The Motion Sickness Incident 

Be nice to people in matatus, motion sickness is real. This girl sits next to me in a mat and even asks me to shift my weight coz apparently, a part of me was on her seat. Ten minutes into the journey, she’s huffing and puffing and briefly informs me that she is nauseated. I offer her the window seat to get a breath of fresh air but it’s only a temporary solution as her eyes proceed to widen like a squished lizard . 
I know what’s about to come next. I quickly weigh my options. I don’t intend on getting a puke-shower on this particular day . I quickly surrender the tiny safaricom plastic bag i was carrying a new phone in. I then have to carry the phone in my hands like an idiot who has never owned a phone before and wants the whole world to know they just bought one. 
Note to self : always carry a plastic bag when traveling.