Damn I hate lawyers! All they do is walk around in black suits and colored ties like spoilt insurance brokers. Do those people really smile? How can H.E, MBS, HIV, LLB Hons, WHO, Esq. Barabbas Owiyo holding a typewriter-heavy briefcase smile at you? But why do I hate LLB Hons guys? Simple, they never told me that the capital crime in Kenya is to fart in a police car.
I remember sometime back during one of my many neck hydraulic exercises in class, the teacher said something like, ‘hot air rises up’. I thought of asking the teacher how but the fantasy of my new crush, a fine ghel from Chris Brown’s jam Yo (Excuse Me Miss) wouldn’t let me.
I was sure that I will one day leave the scorching Maasailand and would go to a land yonder, where my crush lived. We would happily get married, I would speak through my nose and come back after every two years enjoying the bewilderment of my native people as they see my white darling. Well, I am still a blogger who hates akina Barabbas Owiyo. Kwanza have you subscribed?
I think the only thing I learned in my Science class was that hot air rises up. I put it into practice until I mastered it. I would position myself in angles that no LLB Hons guy would – we all know that these guys can get away with anything but not the angles of testing how hot air rises up.
As people jotted down their life dreams in high school, I was still practicing my art. I wanted to be a master farter. I wanted to dress up like those Chinese shifus and start my own farting school. Whenever the fart decided not to rise up and it was all chaos in class, I taught myself the art of silence and looking like the Chief Justice. I was always the unsuspected chap.
So I am walking along Moi Avenue one Saturday morning. I actually never knew where I was going. I bought a Coke, twisted the bottle top, and ensured that the ‘mscheeew’ sound came out. I treat sodas like my jealous exes that’s why I drink them slowly so that they can patiently enjoy the sight of my success.
As soon as I took the first gulp, vijana wawili barobaro wenye misuli tinginya came behind my back and asked me.
‘Kijana wapi mask?’
I was taking the first gulp of my ex and I pointed at my lowered mask. But they told me that I had not worn my mask properly and I needed to accompany them to the station. I immediately wore Esq. LLB Hons, Barabbas Owiyo’s cap and pledged the fifth – whorever that means, I only see that in movies.
Do the Kenyan police know about pledging the fifth? What is the fifth anyway? Is it in Kenya? LLB Hons guys kindly help answer this in the comments. I was kidding, I like you guys, don’t you guys know jokes? 😁.
A Kenyan policeman never gives you time to explain yourself. You are guilty until proven innocent. I was whisked off into a police car. Let’s not talk of how they grab your pants together with your boxers and your legs continuously kick like the feet of those Instagram ghels at the swimming pool’s deep end.
As I was kicking in mid-air like a disgruntled toddler, I remembered of yet another LLB Hons wash wash Mr. Boniface Mwangi. Inspired by him, I started yelling about how I knew my rights, how I was the one who pays their salaries through my taxes but they were just corrupt mongrels. I landed face flat on their car’s floor.
I was the only one arrested, I found two more policemen in the car chatting about some criminal who is well connected and has been a menace. Like a boss, I re-opened my ‘mscheew’ and took a gulp. In no time, another maskless young guy was thrown in.
I knew that these guys would just waste our time and demand the usual token of appreciation for giving us a tour of Nairobi. Coca-cola indeed refreshes lives, my intestines rumbled for a split second and sent the charges to my glutes.
I realized that this was the moment of reckoning. As a master farter, you first recount what you ate in the last two days. You do your mathematical calculations e.g. the speed of sound, the speed of discharge, wind direction etc. I really cannot give you the details as your brains are not of capable of handling such complex calculations.
After doing my calculations, I leaned back slouching on that uncomfortable metal seat. You all know about it. If you haven’t been into a police car please leave Kenya, Tanzania can accommodate you.
“Na kijana unafikiria uko kwako? Unajua leo ni Weekend, tukiweka wewe ndani utatoka Jumatatu?“
I was used to all these intimidation tactics so I ignored them. I slowly pushed back the canvas and released a smooth flowing fart in peace and tranquility like Master Shifu in KungFu Panda. Damn it was good. I gave out a refreshing belch as I took out the Coke bottle carefully studying the ingredients like drunk Baby Boomers studying beer bottles.
The officers brought in yet another drunk handcuffed man and no sooner had they pushed him in, one of them shouted.
“Na kuna jangili imechafua hewa hapa.”
It was then that I realized that the first rule of Science in matters farting that hot air rises up. But then it was July, a cold season. The second rule of fart motion states that a fart in summer (okay let me say hot season for the sake of LLB Hons guys) rises up unless an external force (which in my case is Winter) is acted upon it.
My beautiful, well, let’s say suffocating fart, ricocheted back into the government property and it was Chaos.
“Fuu fuu! Kuna jambazi hapa imekunya kwa mali ya serikali”
We all know how dirty these guys talk. I was the first suspect but I am an experienced farter, Master Shifu ultra pro max. I still slouched and took the final gulp of my ex. The Kenyan police are so daft they will always judge by appearance.
“Nani ameharibia serikali hewa?” One of them asked, “Ama ni wewe unatulipiaga mshahara? Umemua kutuharia?”
I stared at them blankly, expressing my disgust. One of the policemen stepped out of the car holding his nose saying,
“Krew! Nakuambia kitu imeachiliwa hapo, Kapedo kando. Hii vijana ya siku hizi sijui wanakula nini, ama ni hii mlevi umeleta hapa?”
Our guy in handcuffs was really trying to talk himself out of the crime I had committed.
“Afande! Siwezi nyambia serikali. Kwani nitakuwa mtu aina gani Afande? Ninaheshimu kirauni.”
The other policeman was on phone responding, “Yes Sir, Yes Sir!” He also couldn’t breathe so he stormed out to continue with his call. It was then that I realized that I was also choking and I couldn’t believe such a weapon of mass destruction could come out of my worked-out glutes. I also blocked my nose.
Meanwhile, the other young man in the car also arrested for not having a mask was in tears. He looked like a rich spoilt kid. I did not really know if the tears were from the fear of getting arrested or because the biological warfare caught up with him. I chose to believe the latter.
“Na ninaona ni kama ni hii jangili mlevi umeleta saa hii!” One of the policemen said as he pointed at the handcuffed guy!
The other policeman who was on phone finished his call and signaled the others that they had a lead on their man. They speedily came near the car. He told the other policemen.
“Fungueni hii majangili wakachafulie hewa huko nje! Twende haraka, amepatikana.”
They quickly let us out, uncuffed the drunk guy and sped off. As I was making sure I had not left my phone in the car and the rich kid also standing beside me, the drunk guy came and shouted.
“Manze mwenye arinyaba kwa hiyo gari maan, umeniokorea sana. Hiyo mnyabo ni ya Kimataifa. Nirikuwa nafikiria nitatokaje na ma alif warinitoa jana hapo ida.”
He looked at the crying softie and asked him.
“Kwanza naona ni kama ni wewe umeniokoa. Kenye umekura man. Warikushika juu hauna mask?” He dug his dirty sausage-shaped fingers into his pockets and asked some woman selling masks on the streets, “Maathe nipe mask ya kumi, nataka kubress uyu alif apa.”
He handed the mask to the guy. He looked at the both of us and walked away shouting,
I had just saved three lives from the snares of the devil. And that’s why I keep telling you guys to trust in the Lord your God because He will fight your battles. He will amplify your farts such that your enemies will just leave you. That’s why I tell you to tithe in the Lord’s House, to fast and pray and read my other blog Silomasays.
Hizi story ni noma manzeee😂🤣🤣my ribs are still painful
You are welcome bro. Make sure you subscribe. I publish every Tuesday.
Loooool… Yes, You are guilty until proven innocent, after being beaten severely for nothing….loool… This one: Coca-cola indeed refreshes lives, my intestines rumbled for a split second and sent the charges to my glutes…..yooooooo…loooool
Welcome to Kenia… You see the cops and you just die…