The night was cold. The nights are always cold in Nyeri. I did 4 years in Nyeri High and i don’t think there ever was a night that wasn’t extremely cold. It’s the kind of cold that makes your bones freeze, the bone marrow too. Kind of makes you cringe when you think of taking a shower; then you remember that even fish spend their entire lives in water yet they still stink……
Now, that night like all other nights was cold. Nyeri is a rather peaceful place at night as all life frozen by the cold momentarily ceases to exist, rendering a degree of calm that people who live in cities would want to put in a can and spread in their noisy neighbourhoods, like that Airwick ad.
Talking of Airwick, this thing is fake as puss in boots. In the Ad it is depicted as something straight from nature, canned at source so to say, whose scent is meant to last…i disagree….
The other day i ran into this (almost)5 ft chic with an inflated thorax (Vera Sidika calls them twins!!) at Tuskys, Digo road. I was keenly scanning the air freshener section searching for a good scent. She chanced upon a confused me and advised I buy Airwick rose scent coz that’s what she uses in her crib to give it that fresh, Rosy fragrance. I swear, i spray that thing in my house every day and the scent is gone in less than 17 minutes. Now that’s fake. The scent from my cologne is still there to hug me when i get home in the evening.
Either the Airwick is fake or my crib suffers from air freshener intolerance.
This chic with an inflated thorax, she was rather short. While she was busy doing free marketing for whatever company cans Airwick, i was busy contemplating her size; her length not breadth (you cheeky you!). I was never good at Algebra but when i applied Pythagoras Theorem to the situation at hand, i figured that if she was to hug me, then she would have to actually pole vault so as to reach my shoulders.
She passed me a card, says she is called Liz and works at some ‘salon/ barbershop’ in Mombasa town which also offered ‘massage’ services. She is commodious enough to give me directions….it’s upstairs in a certain building and i have to call before going…. (insert raised eyebrow). I took a look at the card, dropped the freshener in the shopping basket next to a pack of oats, and looked at the card more keenly. I figured the card was made from recycled i donno what…
Hell man, Liz did not strike me as a barber, unless she shaves people while they are lying on a couch or seated on a very low stool. If she was indeed a barber, i would have almost considered changing barbers, a habit i detest coz at my age changing barbers may come along with drastic consequences.
I changed, regrettably so, barbers this Ramadan. I will never do it again. I have a long, illustrious history with my regular barber Aleki and i wanted to try out a friend of mine who is a barber too. Unfortunately, my friend was not in yet when i wanted a shave so i sat on his colleague’s shearing seat for a cut.
First, i hate it when a barber keeps twisting my head while he is shaving. Aleki is gentle with me, i actually doze off amid his numerous stories which start anywhere and never end.
So this new barber, let’s call him Simon-Says, starts on my head immediately as if he knew what i really wanted. It kindof took me by surprise coz as a policy i do not mow my hair mpaka chini….akili ni nywele jamaa…i leave, or rather Aleki leaves some i can easily pass a jolly comb through.
Another thing i hate is when a barber positions his fingers near my nostrils. Now, Simon-Says ran his near my nostrils several times, like he wanted to suffocate me; then he twists my head like a Barbie doll, at some point the top of my head almost touched my shoulder as he was trying to shave behind my ear……
I also dislike the cut around my moustache, goatee and sideburns done with the machine, scares me shitless. I would rather have a gun pointed to my head than the machine buzzing around my face….freaks me out completely. I had to quickly advice SS to use a razor for that….almost regretted…..
SS acted like he wanted to slaughter me with the razor, i was even scared to raise my voice in protest at how i was being handled. As if that was not enough he poured soo much water on my head as he tried to ‘clean/wipe’ me it actually ran down my back. I was pissed off but the way he was handling that razor kept me from complaining.
You should have seen me launch a complaint to my friend who owns the barber shop. Especially since SS did not ‘smear’ with surgical spirit to inflame the near death cuts he had dealt my head….he said the spirit was over and he wanted to apply machine oil (yes, he was that cruel)in its stead…..
Thus i have decided not to change barbers. Well, until either Aleki retires or expires, or he dies of perpetual intake of Blue Moon Vodka and human hair.
Oh, this post was to be about a tragic yet memorable event that happened in Nyeri High…..something that will never be forgotten…..ever…..