Why do ‘men’ gossip to begin with? I kept thinking as I heard my neighbors go ham on stories about me and what I am about. I sipped coffee as I listened to Damian Marley’s Nail Pon Cross (discourages judging people) the conversations would get pretty loud and they would even argue about certain ‘truths’ to the bitter end. I would laugh at the bickering and would soon forget about them and continue reading my book.
This would happen every other night constantly with no break over the semesters. The ‘grown’ fourth year men would convene at wee hours of the night only to discuss what this pretty little thing is doing and who she is with. They would be so loud I would mistake the convention for those Owuor’s churches. All they needed was a drum set and that loud keyboard for the sound effects and probably the long gowns as well to cover their stark ingrown features. The weirdest bit? The ‘men’ were from different houses.
I later came to learn that there were four different houses of ‘boys’ that hosted such overnight events and I wouldn’t be invited, the audacity. One of the houses was two doors down from me, another we shared a wall instead of common sense, another was one door away and the fourth caught me by surprise as they didn’t look familiar in the slightest. We were classmates (chuckles)
It was probably around 2am that I heard my name routinely, strange is not enough of a word if I was to describe the conversation. I am usually so unbothered about other people’s lives that it gets on their nerves I suppose. It’s so rare for me to gossip let alone know the statuses of other people’s lives; I’m really not into CV writing. It wasn’t a surprise that their details were flawed and distasteful so I continued keeping up with Diaz and left the E! news to them. I was woken up with a loud annoying laugh (kicheko ya kukejeli) followed by obscenities and painfully boring remarks. That feeling you get at the back of your neck like you are about to lose your cool but its followed by a mental reassurance that they are not worth it. They are still worthless. Just like Offset, they were damn misfortunate.
The conversations went on until 5 in the morning accompanied by play station games; these are the boys whose girlfriends cheat on with their cousins and are regularly put on player 2. So unbothered I continued to write my articles in a bid to better my craft as well as my eating skills. A little bit after lunch, my friends came over to play nice and rave about clearing school. Conversations that are relevant and witty are my weakness, I hate small talk. I am deep, thorough and humorous when I am not hungry. (Chuckles)
We talked for so long that we didn’t realize it was already 7pm. I escorted them as I bought my supper and made my way back to my shanty house in the slum division. Do not ask how I got to live here. As per usual I was the trending topic yet again, no twitter but definitely a lot of birds. If only I knew I was under surveillance 24/7 from nobodies and some bodies in that ‘great’ community, I would probably still not care one bit.
At 7:10 pm the conversations were now getting monotonous and I was getting bored of hearing the same malicious incorrect propaganda. I finally had had enough of all of it; it was time to chukua hatua. Mwelusi mimi, I went round the block to find out who are these shoddy excuses of men that are low-key gay. The late night gathering, all men affair and giggles- they are gay and I was really determined to get them into the LGBTIQ community so they can get out of each other’s closet.
I knocked very politely being well cultured and coming from a different breed of women. A young ‘man’ opened and to my surprise he wasn’t wearing a skirt or a padded brassier. I humbly asked for a matchbox alluding that I forgot to buy and I wouldn’t want to go to the shop. Of course he isn’t the smartest; he didn’t make the quick math of the number of houses I skipped only to come knocking at his. If you have interacted/dated any ‘boy’ from this area code just know you are lesbian. (no shade)
With so much zeal and enthusiasm, he stretched out his hand and grabbed the newest box (bed sitter aki). He quickly handed it to me but before I took it, I asked him to tell me his name; I also raised my voice to inquire each one of the names of my fan club’s members out of courtesy. All this time I was smiling gleefully and low key mocking these midgets. I barely remember their faces let alone their names; so irrelevant in their being and so ugly in their stature that if I was them, I would probably spend less time gossiping and more time saving for plastic surgery and the gym. I believe you can’t be ugly, stupid, gay and unemployed all at one go, nobody is cursed on that level.
I took the match box with so much grace and dignity I probably took them to England for a second or two but I sure left them in the gutter. A friend once told me, you don’t see pigs playing with mud or dirt then you go join them, you simply look on, laugh and depart. I employed this from the beginning of the year but once in a while the queen has to step outside her throne and address the paupers throwing sand at her doorstep. As I was about to leave their sight, he asked whether I was Diaz. I cannot verbally explain my reaction but I hope this comes close. I looked at him dead in the eye as he tried to look away and blurted out a nice b***y-filled ‘I am sure you know’ and walked away.
So why do men gossip yet in their primitive nature they are known to be verbally inhibited? Beats me! Sometimes I wonder who they are talking about now that I am gone, I bet they miss me and want to see me, some of them are loyal to checking my statuses, instagram feed, joining my live videos and inquiring from friends. They are so adamant in knowing how I am breathing, where I am breathing and if I am breathing yet they don’t even brush their teeth.
I don’t know how they were so much in my business and yet they have more problems than me. I understand we were not built the same but it should bother you that I’m so unbothered; too nonchalant when it comes to who is doing what or where with who. I deadass don’t care, at some point I thought there was something wrong with me because I genuinely don’t care about other people’s lives. But I thought about it and realized that they don’t have anything interesting in their lives; their biggest achievement lays in handling a pad (I’m not sure which one) is it always that time of the month for them? Funny thing is some of them still smiled and said hi to me.
Planning to have my biography done at some point, I’m grateful that I have a sounding board if the ‘facts’ become elusive. Until then see you on my status(chuckles)