Whoever said beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, believe you me was right, yeah damn right!

I am not a fan of Facebbook, I must have said this before(the memory thing, failing me again!) But I however get connected from time to time. It feels good meeting long lost friends.

I end up straying, very often,this goes to seeing friends’ photos, and seeing friends’ friends’ photos and comments.And we all agree here that in facebook even enemies and those people we do not give a damn about are called “friends”.

Today, I strayed, as usual. And I fell on these photos, thank God I do not know who the person is. A friend had commented. One other comment was-I copy paste then translate-

T’es trop belle!! C’est dégueulasse pour les autres filles comme moi!!! lol
The translation being,
“you are so beautiful!!It’s disgusting for the other girls like me!!!lol”
The person who left this comment to me was not bad looking, I must say, it is not a personal taste but an average person would say the same.
The other comment is this one where this guy had like a kg of hair gel on his head, sun glasses (indoors) and a kind of pause I will not stand before me, yes. Another friend commented how this guy  had changed his look and looked pretty!
In both cases, the two people are ugly! I mean it. I saw the photos, just to find out how the look to be praised for their looks. I was shocked, ugly, I insist is what I saw.

 Now that Savy awarded me this……..I must say, I am flattered, this award is really merited. And I earned it!


The Rules
* You must brag about the award
* You must include the name of the blogger who bestowed the award on you and link back to the blogger
* You must choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that you find brilliant in content or design.
* Show their names and links and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog.
* List at least ten (10) honest things about yourself. Then pass it on with the instructions!

I love salsa. This dance just sweeps me off my feet. It is the best way to go out, party and do something lovely.It started way back at home. It was an in thing and , I then got to a college that had cheap classes. But I was too broke to afford the “cheap classes”. I learned once in Paris there are salsa schools and evening classes around the city, I joined and that is where I fell deep in it! I love it!


261 euros is my highest  telephone bill, I mean in a month. Two months ago I spent that amount on phone calls and text messages………to mean I talk a lot? Or I listen a lot?



This weekend I participated in a TV show. It is a news show.Guests talked and one was defending the president of Equitorail Guinea, who is undergoing a curruption case. I was going to tell him to shut up because most African leaders are corrupt and we all know that. It was live. I loved it and it was crazy seeing the guy(presenter) who’s always on tv, just next to me. I was impressed.


I love sleeping. Whenever I can, I sleep till way past midday. I defend myself that I went to  boarding schools since the age of ten, I never had the chance to prolong my sleeps, not even over the weekends…….let alone during school vacations. We had only a week or so at home, before holiday tutions. The body needs rest, one day or another;

 I have never climbed up the Eiffel Tower.

When I first came to France, I knew that I would one day have to climb up there. When I first saw it, I loved it, I still remember how I gaped at it, it was so beautiful. I even promised to do so the following week.

Weeks have passed and I still haven’t. Reason? You go there and there are thousands of people in the queue. So you have to stand in a line that advances so slowly for three or four hours! I loose my patience. I end up touching(at times kissing) the foot of the tower. The funny part is trying to locate the middle, three or four people, so distant and each one insisting to be sure of the middle.

But I promise I will this summer.


I come from a big family that keeps growing as time goes, marriages in the past five years add up to three, I have two nephews whom I love more than anything on earth. My family despite the distance counts a lot for me. I love them.


I am a christian, a protestant. I was  baptized at 18.I last went to church several months ago, but that does not make me less a believer, does it?


I love swimming. I go to the swimming pool, at least once a week, or every two weeks. To me it is not a sport but a way to relax………and it is cheap for members in public swimming pools in Paris!! I am not fond of sports.


I love litterature, I read a lot.


I have never voted. And  I dare call myself a patriot.Shame on me!


I now pass the award to Sultry nutter, Pink Memoirs, Xs, Sybella,M,

It is official, I am losing my memory, gradually. It is scary I must admit.

Hope it is not the Alzheimer’s disease attacking me at this time and age. It is not funny I know, but surely how does one explain what has been happening to me?

I had an appointment with this guy. I had no idea how he looks like, yet we had met before. I could not even tell if he was shorter or taller than me, if he had long or short, curly or straight hair.

I met him in a party one evening. We talked for a maximum of ten minutes. In between drinks and music. He was very interesting…….I mean his career and ambitions. But he left, or I left without notice. One of us did not say bye to the other. I insist he is the one who left earlier. Though I cannot confirm. A few days later , talking to a friend who was present at the party, I learnt that they exchanged numbers. I was happy, I decided that one day I would call him to have a chat and find out more about him. Whenever I am interested, I go till the end. I took his number and called him. I was so nervous. Iwent like “am the Kenyan you met at the party and I got your number from…..”I was blabbering for no reason, because  to my surprise, he remembered me.  Yes! A step forward. I was happy. We fixed an appointment. Yes! Another step ahead.

The D-day arrived, I was to meet him. God, how did that guy look like? Appointment fixed at 6pm. Out of the subway,were  many people, how am I supposed to tell who this person is. Well I decided to play. I will look away and he would come to me. There was one particular one who kept throwing his eyes to my direction. I felt horrible because he must be waiting for me to go to him. But I did not dare. What if it wasn’t him, I would feel so stupid. So I kept standing five to ten minutes passed.Well one of us had to and suddenly, he left. I was relieved that it was not him. Moments later, he came back, directly to me and said :”is it me you are waiting for?” Before I could reply he went on explaining to me that the girl he had left with was not the girlfriend, asked if I did not mind taking a drink with him, asked for my number…..and he became boring, I was waiting for someone, damn him! He left me alone…thank God.

I decided to call my friend, the one who gave me his number and asked her to join me. I could not stand what I was feeling, I had to smile to everyone just in case it was “my” guy! I asked her if he was tall or short, all sorts of physical features I could think of. She finally accepted to join me. She saved my ass.

Because he was late, we had enough time to look at all passers by and I would ask, is that him, my friend was like,no, no no.

When he arrived, he did not hesitate, he smiled at us and all was fine.

Today, some guy smiled at me and said hi, just outside my class. I know him, I know I do. I have met him before, but where. This smile is so familiar, but I cannot tell where I saw him. ARRRRGGGG!!!!! Where did I see this face?

Who said I was homophobic?

Are you homophobic? Is the question I ask people when they seem to damn freak out when they see two men kissing , or two girls caressing.

Down my structure, a cold chill runs. At times I ask myself the question. The answer, of course is no!

 Three days ago, I was with a friend in a pub, having a drink. Two guys came, sat next to us and started talking. After a few minutes ,we learned that they were a couple. They kissed just as two people in love would.

I went downstairs to the ladies, I saw two men doing the same thing. I thought we were mistaken in our choice of the pub. But the waiter saw this as he served us and said :”oh, damn,that’s nasty”. A prove that he is not really used to the scene.

Or still a month or so ago, these two girls in the swimming pool, not only kissing but holding themselves in a somehow embarrassing way. At least for us. This means all those who are subjected to the scene and have no choice. I did not complain, and am not going to do it now because people have the right to love. But when it is extremes,………… did they have to come to the water with us in a public swimming pool?

Just a few weeks ago, I learnt that this friend of mine was gay. I had not known him for ages, but that does not justify my failure to tell it. Right from the first time we met, things just went so cool. I loved holding his hand and walking with him, hugging him warmly and telling him that he was so lovely. Because he is.

He had this long hair that would at times drop in front of his eyes, so he would push it aside. I found this little gesture a bit girlish in some manner. But it rendered him even more cute. I used to smile every time I was with him.

The day I learnt that he was homosexual, I did not get away, no. I remained as usual but things somehow put us apart.

 We no longer meet daily as we used to. So I no longer walk around hand in hand with him. He no longer has long hair, so the girlish thing left him.

 I know he is gay and he still remains one of those people I cherish their company. He has this kind of humour a girl would appreciate. He has no shame in describing his feelings. He does not make me laugh in order to please me then try to hook up with me, no he is just natural.

However the society is, I think homophobia still lingers somewhere in the air!

Me and my little things.

At times I tend to believe that I am mad,for real. But I console myself that all human beings are,but the degree of madness varies.Mine is the nice type,very low degree that is.

Running: Only mad people run around,no? I do not mean running as in jogging,but running as in to catch a bus or train, to get up or down stairs faster.It is so unsexy or unladylike, I know.The other day  I was waiting for a bus with a friend, and another one came to the stop. A  couple came running to catch it.My friend went like  “Oh My God,I just can’t stand guys who run after the bus,if you are late,just chill out the next will come in less than ten minutes!” She was right.I just smiled because I do it,almost unconsiously. In the streets I run .I am always late for appointments.It’s the African in me to blame.Where I grew up,we always said “No Hurry” I leave my place ten minutes to my appointment time,yet I have at least twenty minutes to the place.Something just holds me till I am late.

In winter it is lovely ,it keeps me warm.I get to the metro,eveyone is cold and freezing,but I am hot,so I take off my heavy scarf and jacket……….oh, and it makes life much brighter……….I smile at anyone who’s looking at me…….that kind of smile that says “it’s pretty hot,huh?”

Oh My God,I regret having met him!

There are charming guys, others are charming and intelligent.But there are those who are neither charming nor intelligent,though they seem at first look.But end up learning that they are pure misers.This is what befell me!

I met him a few weeks ago,and I must have been out of me…I gave him my number with no hesitation.A buddy saw me and came to us like”Hey,no,don’t give him your number,you do not even know him!” I judged that as his ‘jealous’ thing. I wish I had listened.

 The guy called me the following day.We met and got to know each other.That’s when I realized that he is boring to death.

He seemed cool.He proposed a drikn at a very cool place,I loved It. We went further and had dinner together. We divided the meal cost(hi hi hi).But I had no problem with that really.

The next time we went out,he (as I came to learn) likes these chic places.This time we went to a touristic place. They do not have the best services………tourists will always go there anyway! I was late,really late(the african in me,or is it just kenyan?). He made a joke that I would pay for the drinks coz I was late.I laughed,at the end of the evening, I paid.

3rd meeting,drinks,as usual in his (wierd)chic places.The prizes are too high.When we get to pay around fifteen twenty euros euros for a glass of cocktail,while we know of places where we pay half for the same,with my kind of pocket………..its just not my thing!I was getting bored and wanted to leave.I yawn when am with him, I chew gum,non stop.I get bored to death. I took out my purse and he went like”I will invite you”……….funny gestures around his pockets,then”oh!Shit,I forgot my wallet”……….of course,silly,I will pay,as usual,that’s what you want,no?I thought to myself.

He proposed to see me the next day,for a movie……..because he had spent a lot of good time with me………I was tempted to say yes.I would let him pay,get in with him then sleep all through.Or excuse myself to the ladies then simply go to my place.But it is not brilliant.An entry to the movies is only six euros…………

Monsieur is still waiting for my call(I always call him,once or twice, he has sent me an sms,asking me to call him!) So unsexy the miser!

Am not bitter,at all, just astonished by some guys’ characters.

Ever since,I have been swearing that I will never,never be a teacher!

My mother is one,my maternal grandpa was one,its in the blood, I am afraid. But I tend to believe that some things in life, especially profession is more of a matter of choice than that of fate. So I refuse to be a teacher.

Strikes bring me to all this!

My University teachers are on strike and it sucks!Really. I had my two week vacation over Christmas, a short brake coz of exams and change of sem.In short,I have had enough of free time that I have had my time to do what I love most:sleep.

Back at home,I used to love those strikes.The school schedule was too tight for me that whenever teachers went on strike,I would sigh, of  relief.

But now surely,why why punish me?I was ready to study like never before.I got to class, as usual,five minutes late ,and I was ready to explain how public transport is just pure shit and how I would have been in class ten minutes in advance.He did not say anything,for once;my Professor! He was busy reading those manifestation posts,those notices done on the net.He let me in and did the same for those others who came in ten,twenty  and half an hour later!

I decided to dance to the music.The french are a serious people.When it means strike,it means all time and entire dedication.

I attended a General meeting. Professors act lust like high School kids, hitting tables and shouting, talking with no orginisation at all.

Oh,my dear teachers,why have you decided to strike?……………