Boulevard of fake tits.


Gusto, an English word which means as enthusiastic as eish. Example in a sentence; that calf (child of a cow) has gusto! Gusto was the nickname of our drama/grammar teacher Mrs or Miss Mathenge…..i don’t recall seeing a Mr Mathenge tagging on her beautiful hands or walking behind her to shield her voluptuous, well endowed back side from infatuated boys.

Well, i was not as infatuated though i really was mesmerised by her accent and tendency to walk and look at all and sundry as if her ancestors were in the Mayflower. I will not tell you what Mayflower is/was.

One thing though, she had the swagger of winner, looks of a Governors’ wife and a killer attitude that tolerated no ifs and buts.

So after Issa Ibrahim inspired me to join cultural club, i became a female dancer. He was as i vaguely recall of Tanzanian descent and was the lead soloist for Nyeri high cultural troupe in ’97. Guy did the entire lead in Gikuyu, a language that was obviously not what his mommy and daddy had taught him, with such flamboyancy and passion; the sheer alacrity of it made us all proud. It was no wonder they went all the way to the Drama festival finals in Kach.

Being a female dancer meant several things; you would dance in a skirt, wear make up in form of paint and shake your diabz like there was no tomorrow. Female dancers were supposed to spice up the dance by gyrating their hips and adding that soprano thing. Nguros were the bigger boys like Lawrence Muchiri and Job who would jump into stage dressed like Zulu warriors.

Best thing about doing drama and cultural practice was that we at times had to either skip prep or leave an hour earlier. Normal prep was 3 hours which was later cut down to 2 after the terrible incidence, Burn Nyeri High Burn. The first hour was now strictly for compulsory mass, we really did need prayers and divine intervention.

There was this one time we was deep into practice when suddenly the Iron Lady Mrs Mathenge clapped her hands and signalled us to stop. Normally she would just be seated there, studying our every dance move, the choreography and everything and would only cite an observation once we were through. Not this time.

Stopping the dance midway meant several things; one we were probably dancing around like a bunch of idiots which may have infuriated her, two it was a coffee break (hardly ever the case), or three she was damn impressed with everything and felt like we would go up to the finals…..

You!” she pointed at me. i was seated at the centre of the stage where we had been doing this extremely sorrowful moment in the dance.

I stood up. I was pretty certain she would tell me how i sucked at dancing and that i should probably pick another hobby, like playing with marbles or plaiting the long grass behind the dining hall. Up to that moment i had had my fare share of ladies embarrassing me (i was a terribly shy lad) so i braced myself for the worst.

Everyone, look at him and the way he is doing the sorrowful part,” the entire team looked at me as if waiting for the Iron Lady to nod her head for them to lynch me.

See the way he plays out the part well. I want all female dancers to copy him…….”

WHAT? Like really what! i mean, she had given me a thumbs up in front of everyone; my thorax almost bust in pride, now we had to do the song with only me playing the part. Dear me, you should have seen the way i did it, all sorrowful (i even shed a tear). Grammy award material fellows!

Come the Zonal drama festivals which were always held at Nyeri High and which we always came out tops, home ground advantage. We are on stage dancing like we people possessed by some Gangnam Style devils. Our choreography was resplendent, something that would make Judge Ians’ grey hairs dance on his head. Then the unbelievable happened…….

Now, let me take you slowly through this coz i don’t wanna lose you in the middle, no. Naturally, a man has no boobs; well unless he is one of those body builders who clench their naked diabz on stage wearing very tiny underwear, flexing their mountainous muscles contorting their faces in anguish. Once these guys grow a bit older what had been thorax muscles mutate into man boobs….terrible, no?

For a man to play the part of a female dancer a few adjustments have to be made. Of paramount importance is to get boob ‘IN-plants’, stumbling experiments in the path of progress. On these there are several options; one, you can use tennis balls….bad choice, you jump too hard and the balls pop out (ha, the tennis balls that is) and bounce all the way to the adjudicators who will have a field day doing Judge Ian’s job of shredding egos.

Two you could inflate balloons and strategically place them in the provided bras. With this you stand the unfortunate occurrence of deflation and the entire hall especially girls thinking you farted. Terrible choice.

Three and most common you can crumple papers into roundish balls and use them as tits. Papers are ok, only thing is that they tend to give the impression that you have multiple nipples because of unrounded edges. One might tend to think you are literally made of ‘nails’!

So there i was on stage vigorously shaking what my mama didn’t give me. I was enjoying it, i was made for it, it was my moment and i would one day win a Grammy. Mrs Mathenge had praised me and that was all that mattered. Then i heard Benjamin who was a male dancer waiting for his turn to somersault into stage doing a pssst pssst in my direction. I looked at him while i was still dancing (requires an amount of skill to execute this).

He pointed to the ground and on checking i noticed my crumpled boob had fallen off my bra. What the effing blinkers man, i was on seconds away from performing my award winning sorrowful moment.

Ef it, i said. Kama mbaya mbaya. I kicked the crumpled ‘ex boob’ skilfully into Benjamins direction. He is looking at me like what the hell man, that’s so freaking barbaric!

Luckily, neither the judges nor Mrs Mathenge saw it happen, and we still went ahead to lead in the zonals.

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4 thoughts on “Boulevard of fake tits.

    • i had to kick it away coz falling out of formation would have been drastic….the iron lady would have had my liver for dinner. i think they should have invested in those pimped bras which give the impression there is sth….even when all there is a flat hairy thorax 🙂

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