My Random Stories

(Ask Ideas website) The world, to me, has become a depressing world. It would seem we have lost our humanity. I know I have circled around this topic, but to me it is important to repeat it as much as possible. The reason I am writing this is because there are people who feel they have no meaning in this life. I went out for coffee with a good friend of mine, a brother, when we left we met a street child rummaging through a dustbin in the cold Nairobi streets. I felt sorry for the boy and decided to assist him with some of my coins. I tapped on his back and he almost jumped. He started running and I called him back and gave him the coins. We were shocked at his reaction. We tried to guess why he ran. He must have thought it was the police who wanted to hit him for ‘being on the streets’; a shop owner angry that he is going through the trash can with a possibility of dropping the trash on the shop door; he must have thought it was the county askaris wanting to beat him for

(Counselingmn Website) “My son, please come and sit with me.” Jacob runs and sits next to his father. He wanted to hear the progress. What was going to happen next and how could he be of any help. “My son, I love you. I love you very much. If I could do anything to change the situation I would. I never had what you have today. Your mother and I have worked hard to provide you and your siblings. If we could do anything we would, but we can’t. I want you to promise one thing my son.” “What is it father?” “Promise me that no matter what I tell you, you will continue to work hard in school. You will work and change your situation. Whatever I tell you should not change your ambitions and goals in life. I want to repeat, no matter who you wanted to be, this should not change anything. You can be better than us, and that is all we want. That is what your mother wants, that is what I want.” Jacob’s mother who has been listening all this time, starts sobbing. She trie

(Groupon Website) It was going to go wrong. I knew it would go wrong. It was obvious everything would go wrong. Why didn’t I say no? Why did I accept the job? Why didn’t I know it was a set up? Why? Why? Why? It was a cold Friday evening. Nobody would be around for miles except for a couple of guards, who were not well-armed. All we had to do was go in, get the cargo, and then get out. Simple and straight to the point. I was supposed to bypass the electrical alarm because of my knowledge of wiring cars. That is all I had to do. What happened next caught me completely unaware. We entered, tied up the guards who were too willing, as if they had been informed of our coming; I played with the wires and just like that four men were in the vault of the bank. I stood outside with the bags. As we were loading the bags of cash we heard a commotion outside. There was shouting, then shots were fired. “Come out with your hands up. This is the police. We have you surrounded.”

Finally after a long time, we were able to edit and finalize our first short film. Please watch and feel free to give any feedback.

This is our first short film as Stage Nirvana. It is only the trailer. The short film is coming soon.

(Pinterest Website) “Well, well. Look here. 10 years later he comes back. The man we used to call, ‘The Weasel’. A man who was so cunning that even if he was caught red handed, he would talk his way to freedom. I had a feeling you would come back, and I have a feeling I know why you’re here.” He stood there smiling. I couldn’t believe that we used to be best friends. Now, we each have different opinions and proceeded on different paths. He was calling me ‘The Weasel’ yet he was and is ‘The Jackal’. A ruthless conniving man who did not care or fear to get his hands dirty to get whatever he wanted. It was not going to be easy, but I knew what I had gone there to do. “Halo Francis.” “I’m sorry, no official names. You know my pseudo name.” “Yes, Mr. Jackal.” “Long time no see, Mr. Weasel. Have you come back to join us?” “No, not really.” “Pity. If you had stayed, you would have been at the helm of this empire. I still have respect for what you did for us,

(Pinterest Website) I walked up to him. He seemed distressed about something. We normally keep to ourselves, but we always have each other’s backs when we are in trouble. There’s no way he was going to suffer alone as I watched. “Yoh bro, what’s wrong?” “Nothing much.” He tries to smile, but fails miserably. I keep looking at him waiting for him to break and tell me the truth. “Nothing is wrong, OK?” Pause. “OK, I got into some trouble with some guys, but I will sort it out.” He looks at me. I’m still waiting for him to finish. “OK, I got involved with some shylocks. I borrowed some money from them which I used all of it, but I forgot to pay, now they are asking me to join their gang to work off my debt, are you happy now?” “Of course I’m not happy. Why Tom? Why? Why couldn’t you just have asked money from me?” “I knew you were struggling with your business, I didn’t want to bother you.” “Really? Even if that was the case now look at the predicament you h

(Flekscale Website) It had been two weeks since the story. So much celebrations. The story had won a global award. He was still receiving gifts and praises from everywhere for his good job. Nevertheless, he was very uncomfortable. The memories of the day still haunted him, he could have done something. It was a hot day just like any other. His boss had sent him to cover the story. He was given a news van and a camera. He would have to do the picture taking and the writing of the story on his own. He felt something was wrong from the very beginning, but he could not figure what would happen next. He arrived at the accident scene. The two cars were badly damaged and everyone close by was looking, waiting for the emergency service to come. He put on his press jacket and went to the site. He started taking pictures when he heard the groaning of a woman. He was immediately shocked and tried to find the source of the groan. He found her sticking her arm out, calling for some

(Deviant Art Website) I don’t think there would have been anyway I would have gotten her. At first I thought she was out of my league, but as I got to know her better, I realized we were meant to be. The first day I saw her was in class. It was the first day of the semester. I saw her come in, but was unable to see her face clearly. She sat right behind me, so close I saw her shoes from the corner of my eye. I loved her hairstyle (I love ladies with afros) and her shoes were kind of cute (Of course I was not concentrating on the shoes alone). Her perfume was out of this world. I could have smelt it for the rest of my life. I was ‘thirsty’ and I am not ashamed to admit it. It took a while to get to know each other (thank you Lord for group work), but the more I saw her the more ‘thirsty’ I became. What made it worse was that we were compatible according to me. I thought she would treat me like a peasant, but she was kind and warm and she made it worse by smiling. I was stil

(Loan Informer website) My cousin once told me that one day as he was travelling back home, he saw a shirt on a man in a ditch. The shirt looked familiar, so he asked to be dropped off. He went to check whether he knew the person. It was our uncle (not his father). He was dead drunk and was swimming in the slime and filth of a Nairobi sewage ditch. He picked him up, placed him on a motorcycle and took him home at his own expense. He made sure he was in his bed and then locked the door and went to his house. It was not the only incident where my uncle was brought home drunk. He was known around for his drinking sprees. For as little as 10 shillings he was drunk by midday. He used to borrow everyone money, including me. When he was unable to get money he would work for it, and then go drink it all. The problem was that he was married, twice. His first wife left him, and so did the second. He has four or is it five children. One of them is brain damaged. She is my age mat

(Marcbombenon Website) In stories told, before Africa was divided into colonies, the elders trained and taught the young ones about life. They were taught how to speak, how to act and how they were meant to live. The elders mentored the young ones and then left them on their own to mentor others. The cycle of  mentor-ship  continued on for generations and the culture, history and traditions of most African communities were kept. Unfortunately when the colonial masters came, Africans were forced to reject the traditional ways and adopted the ‘civilized manner’ of living. I have no arguments or bitterness towards that, and I do not think we should go back to “The African way of life”, rather embrace it and encompass it in our daily living.  Mentor-ship , to me, is what is making Africa drag its feet in the race towards incorporation into the global space. Today Africans are greedy and selfish. We have been given the mark of being  among  the most corrupt. The problem is that

(Photo Source: Common dreams website) Jadim is a refugee. That is what the international organizations call her. The country hosting her is expected to feed her, protect her and make sure she is comfortable until her home country has some amount of peace. She gets ‘aid’ in terms of food, clothes, a blanket and a shelter. She has a right to get them. Moreover she is now pregnant, so she is feeding for two people. She sees people coming in and out, she heard they are called donors. Every time she sees the stream of vehicles she has to ensure her shelter is clean and she puts on a smile. They are the ones responsible for her stay there and they need to feel they are doing something. It also means extra rations that day, so of course she will put on her best smile. Jadim has lived in the camp for 2 years now.  Despite  all the niceties mentioned above, she constantly feels she was better at home, but since she lost her husband and two children to the war, she decided to run. She

(Photo Source: Kaushalmahajan Website) “What did you do with the money?” “I bet it all.” “Are you trying to tell me that we have no money because of your addictive habits?” “Yes.” Betting has become a serious burden. The fact is most people who bet are usually trying to raise their luck and their standards of living. They go through extreme measures to ensure they win the jackpot. I have heard of stories about people who have borrowed bank loans and placed valuable things such as land, their house or school fees of the children as security. Richard’s story is one of them. It is important to note that betting should be a pass time activity, not a livelihood. Richard was a motorcycle rider and he used it as a taxi, commonly known in Kenya as Bodaboda. He used to work for at least 14 hours a day, 6 am to 8 pm. He had a family, a loving wife Sara and two toddlers who were a handful.  Richard was the sole bread winner, as Sara was a stay at home wife. However she