The Ultimate Laser Facial Hair Removal Guide-2017

Hair removal is a chore, especially for women, but it is a chore that must be done, not only for aesthetic purposes but for hygienic reasons as well.

People who don’t deal with unwanted hair are seen as unkempt, unprofessional and unclean and therefore are not trusted with lots of responsibility and have difficulty socializing. This is why in the business world, as well as in the dating arena, being hair-free is very important.

Traditionally, people accomplish this through shaving, waxing, using hair removal creams and plucking. However, these are all either time consuming, painful, inconvenient or skin degrading, which is why, if people have the means to do so, they’d go for laser hair removal. Here is some information regarding the average cost of laser hair removal for people who are curious and for those who are thinking of saving up for the procedure.

You might be interested in sedu hair curling wand

As with all other types of procedures, the primary factor in determining the average cost of laser hair removal is the area where hair will be removed and the amount of hair a person has. On average, the procedure costs around $400 more or less with popular areas being the face, the legs, underarms and bikini line.

For small areas like the face, the cheapest laser hair removal treatment is $150, although it does depend on the clinic you go to and how much hair you have on your face.

Having the entire face and neck area treated is a lot more expensive though, with costs ranging from 600 to 900 dollars. Aside from the face, the underarms are also a relatively cheap area to have treated. The lowest cost recorded for such a procedure is 250 dollars, though clinics are known to charge as high as 350 for removing hair in the underarm area.

For men, having their chest hair removed can cost around 350 to 600 dollars, depending on the amount of hair on the chest. As for the limbs, treating the arms can cost around 350 to 500 dollars, while the whole leg area costs around 600 to 850 dollars.

If you want to have your bikini area done, you need to pay an average of 350 to 500 dollars. The back area, because of its sheer size, is priced at 600 dollars, though people with particularly hairy backs might have to dish out 900 dollars for the procedure. Although the prices may seem a bit too high for a lot of people, in the long run it can be much cheaper compared to constant waxing and applying a depilatory hair removal cream.

Brazilian Laser Hair Removal

Brazilian laser hair removal has been one of the most popular treatments out in the market. Especially when it is summer time, when everyone goes out in bikinis, you would definitely think of undergoing laser hair removal.

You don’t want to go out in your favorite swimwear and embarrass yourself with hairs showing at the wrong places. To give you an idea, when you undergo a Brazilian laser hair removal session, it would take less than an hour each session. Most laser hair procedures require you to have at least 3 to 4 sessions to get results that you desire.

It takes a lot of courage to finally decide to have Brazilian laser hair removal. For doctors, it is also a risk since the part to be treated is more sensitive than just having your feet treated. The most important step in the process is finding a doctor who is licensed and board certified.

You need someone with experience and one who has had a lot of customers. It also helps to ask around those who have tried the treatment and what they think of it. You can also scout for laser hair removal clinics within your area. When you are confident about the doctor you have chosen, and when you are ready, then its time to have the treatment.

Remember that while everyone thinks having Brazilian laser hair removal is cool and pretty, not everyone is required to undergo the treatment.  It is not a must but is just for vanity. You may choose to have it done or not. The choice is yours.



Must Read: God was kind to Michael Jackson-The unread tribute

In the 1988 documentary film, Michael Jackson- The Legend Continues, the narrator, Actor James Earl Jones, aptly describes the fascination and mystique about Michael Jackson’s collective body of performances as a “Presentation of Showtime”

The only argument that can be leveled against this description of Michael Jackson is that his whole life was a presentation of Showtime, and not just the magic he unleashed on stage or through his signature vocals that brought to life his music that continues to transcend generations of millions of fans around the world.

It’s hard to truly appreciate both the magnetism and the reality of such a statement until you personally experience the magic of an individual who has most definitely earned the right to be considered the greatest entertainer on earth. Not many people had the privilege of witnessing in person, the phenomenon that is “Whacko Jacko”, and for those who did, they will continue to bear witness to a magnificent talent and a consummate professional who despite being deeply troubled, arguably gave up any semblance of a normal life to provide the world with the gift of music that is destined to be immortal in its truest sense.

What can you say about such a person?

The first thing that comes to mind for me is the sadness this brings and the profound irony that in death, Michael Jackson is literally uniting the world as hundreds of millions of fans and non-fans alike from all corners of the world, mourn the passing of the greatest superstar we will ever know, yet Michael died a very sad, lonely and broken man.

A lot has been written out there about every aspect of the saga of Michael’s life and death, and as a shameless fan of the man and his music, I would be lying if I said I haven’t been affected by his demise. Perhaps there’s nothing as therapeutic as expressing in my own words, my experiences and how the man, his life and his music influenced me. Call it my own little Stone Cold tribute to the enigma that is Whacko Jacko!


I went back to 1988 because that was the year my dad surprised us and came back from a business trip abroad with the first VCR the family owned. Before then, I had to be content with wishing that a day would come when I could credibly hold conversations with other kids in the school playground and talk from an informed position of having a VCR at home.

I think my folks were cruel in that by striving for the best for their children, they took us to school right across the rail tracks, to a school where class and social identity was more important in reality, than the performance in the classroom…or at least that’s what it seemed to be.

It was hard to cope in such an environment where kids were talking about stuff I couldn’t even pronounce and constantly bragging about the videos they saw over the weekend, so you can picture the excitement in my household when the VCR landed, particularly since no one expected it.

More importantly, dad had taken his time to pick a sample of some low budget tired movies that escape my mind, as well as a variety of music video collections from well known artists of the day such as Elton John, Phil Collins, Madonna, Julio Iglesias, and to illustrate his tired taste, he didn’t forget his favourites like Jim Reeves and Dolly Parton among others.

While scrambling through our first collection of video tapes with that cheeky contempt that a teenager would have for his parent’s tired and old fashioned taste in anything – there it was – sitting pretty at the bottom of the pile. A double video pack of Michael Jackson – The Legend Continues, and the collection of Videos from his sister – Janet Jackson’s hit album, Control.

Naturally, I homed in on the Janet album…Who wouldn’t. She was hot and I challenge any male teenager or grown man for that matter to deny they wouldn’t get a boner just from watching the videos in that collection, especially the Pleasure Principle, but I digress…. The Legend Continues video did it for me. Dad knew we loved Michael Jackson, and give him credit for not disappointing.

If there was ever any crime for over-playing a single video, I think I can comfortably lay claim to hold some sort of record of over playing the Jacko documentary. I could probably narrate it word for word.

The only comparison I had with the collection of material on that video at that time was the Thriller movie – though some would insist on calling it a music video. I think I had only seen the entire Thriller video a couple of times at a friend’s place or something, but I was more than content that we had samples of both the making of Thriller and clips from the video itself. That did the trick for me, though I decided I was going to collect anything Michael Jackson that I could get my hands on.

Even from watching the documentary, it was very safe to rationalize that my obsession with the man was not a sad monopoly.

I can remember thinking I would never get to the stage of some of the footage on that video of fans crying their guts out because Michael had touched them, or because they simply saw him and he waved, or in some cases, grown people clearly fainting and passing out simply by seeing him.

Pictures I’m told, are worth a thousand words and there was no denying the sheer impact this enigma of a human being was having on fans around the world. No normal person had the power to influence and move people the way Jacko did, but you can probably understand why this is so, considering for example that in the immediate period after his death:

  1. AT&T suggest that only in the USA , 65,000 sms messages were being sent per second.
  2. 22% of Twitter messages were about Michael Jackson.
  3. Google had to block any searches of Michael Jackson to stop their servers from thinking they were under an attack.
  4. The speed of the internet literally slowed down as millions of users around the world desperately tried to look for information


July 31st 1992 was the day that made me realize Jacko was larger than life, and whatever I’d seen of him on video was no illusion.

Through a radio competition a week earlier (being anal about the man does have its advantages you know), I was lucky to receive complementary tickets Pepsi were throwing around to promote Jacko’s Dangerous World Tour. The only major concert I’d been to in my life was in 1987 when Jermaine Jackson and the legendary Franco and his TPOK Jazz band performed at the grand opening concert of Kasarani Sports Complex in Nairobi leading up to the All Africa Games that year.

I wouldn’t have otherwise bothered if it wasn’t the fact that Jacko was on stage, and a cynical part of me wanted to go and find out for myself what all this fuss was about.

My only interaction with Wembley was what I knew from watching the FA Cup football matches being screened on the Road to Wembley shows on TV back home.

The folks at the radio station had said that I had won a gem of tickets and I will thoroughly enjoy myself – but again, my arrogant self thought that they probably said this to every Tom, Dick and Harry who won concert tickets for any gig.

I don’t know what I expected when I got off the train at Wembley Park, but by the time I got to Wembley Way, it was already clear that the party for the London leg of the Dangerous World Tour had started. Folks didn’t seem to mind being fleeced by hawkers lined up through the Way to the arena with anything Michael Jackson from T-shirts, gloves, jackets, and other Michael Jackson costumes, to clearly fake memorabilia…LOL!

Everyone was just excited and swinging into the party mode. After I got comfortable with a few folks I met on the way, we all vowed to hang out together as we were in the same ticket section.

Dangerous World Tour

By the time Carmina Burana, the classical hit by Carl Orff was pumping as an intro through the massive speakers around the arena, there was absolutely no doubt that this was no average show. This wasn’t a tired “concert” that we’ve come to get used to say from wanna be African artists who jump on stage miming backing tracks in a tired and dingy joint in East London. There was method in the madness we were about to witness.

Beforehand, we had been looking at some pamphlets being distributed about the Dangerous World Tour, and I guess publishing the tour facts and statistics was a deliberate strategy to “shock and awe” our asses into the mood. It was hard to understand how Jacko’s stage would require 2 747 jumbo jets to fly it around the world, until you got to see that stage and the sets on it. This was no ordinary concert and the choice of Carmina Burana as a shall we say – blood pressure raising and adrenaline pumping intro did the trick.

No one expected what was to follow in a stunt that we later came to know is called “The Toaster”. Short of looking for the panther that was roaring on stage with a powerful microphone (LOL), everyone was duped to assume that Black or White was to be the first song, as it’s the only song folks knew that Jacko used a panther in the video. The shock and awe was completed with Jacko being dramatically catapulted onto the stage from a trap door amidst a blast of pyrotechnics.

“What the Fuck!” was the only thing I vaguely remember thinking, and right through the first performance (I think it was Jam), I was still in shock and awe. I doubt if I recovered from it as I was dancing my ass off and screaming out “Anasema anataka sambusa” with some 60 something year old white haired guy to my right by the time Jacko was performing Wanna be starting something.

Two things stuck out for me as the concert went into full flow.

First, it was the sound quality of the gig. It was almost like the sound was beating to your heart and you could feel the base pumping as you go. It was loud, but it was not intrusive or annoying. The sound was well balanced and regardless of how powerful the sound system was, it was clear that it was a well coordinated part of the showpiece. I guess the best way to describe this is by saying that you were feeling the music.

The second thing that was crystal clear and in Technicolor is that the young man on stage was the greatest dancer and entertainer you were ever likely to see on this planet. WOW! When they say Jacko’s dancing seems to defy the laws of physics, that was not an illusion or overstatement. Jacko could dance and this was nothing like you saw on the Smooth Criminal or Remember the Time music videos. Seeing it live was out of this planet.

I had my answer all around me to the question “How is it possible that people could lose the plot because of this human being”.

It’s a reflex and involuntary action. You don’t know you’re doing it coz the atmosphere and electricity around you sucks you in. You find yourself hugging the next person and locking into a dance move and you find yourself screaming the lyrics of the song.

You see people around you screaming and crying like babies who’ve just had their favourite toy snatched from them, while other overwhelmed folks who have fainted are passed over your head like a sack of potatoes to the nearest first aid point on the sidelines.

There were other magical moments that linger in the mind especially the quality and meticulous detail that went into creating sets for individual songs and the seamless change in between. The fact that it was happening live in front of the crowd made it more of the spectacle it deserved to be.

I think it was after he performed human nature with the crowd waving (a significant amount of them holding lighters flickering above their heads) when the lights on stage blacked out for a few seconds – and when they came back on – two chaps with huge brooms swept across the stage from one side to the other and then the lights blacked out again for a few seconds. When they came back on, Jacko and his 4 dancers were all dressed in their Smooth Criminal regalia – him the light suit with a blue arm band and the rest in similar Mafioso style suits.

Despite the unbelievable dancing being unleashed on stage – all you could do is open your mouth wide in wonderment with that “how the fuck did they do that so quickly” look on your face. It was unbelievable. As they seem to say in recent years (shows my age…LOL!), it was off the hinges.

I remember thinking Gitonga is totally useless…LOL! Side bar here if I may…Gitosh was a legendary cheer leader in high school and his signature tune that he cheered the rugby crowds with was none other than Smooth Criminal. Gitosh though , with the help of the crowd, sang the entire tune in Kikuyu…You had to love the act, there was no other option. Gitosh even pulled the famous slap on the thigh, a lift of the thigh with a swift jig of the hips in imitation of one of Michael Jackson’s signature moves as the crowd roared “You’ve been hit by, Umegongwa – na Muici Munyoroku!” (You’ve been hit by, you’ve been struck by, a smooth criminal)

But standing and watching the man himself perform the song, Gitosh had no toe to stand on. Jacko was the genius and trying to compare what was happening on stage with Gitosh’s comedy was absolutely no justice to Jacko.

After performing Smooth Criminal, Jacko threw his Stetson into the crowd like a Frisbee after toying with the crowd about which direction he’ll throw it. The person who caught it was mobbed though I think they were prepared to die for it…! and you literally lost count of the number of panties and other items of clothing being thrown on stage.

What was funny is either when he moved to one side of the stage or during a change of set or intermission, someone collected the panties and stuff off stage like they were being paid to do it and it was normal…this was something they were used to and their only concern was probably that Michael might trip on them when dancing so they had to be removed.

The concert did not even attempt to disappoint at the end as during his performance of the last track Man in the Mirror, the stage behind him and to his side was being set up for what seemed to be a rocket launch. It was like a scene out of NASA and what was surreal is that he was performing Man in the Mirror oblivious of what was happening around him with the folks giving an impression that something galactic was about to happen.

People were walking around on stage with headsets and clipboards, giving others different directions etc., before finally Michael was asked to put on what seemed to be a space suit. In the midst of the chaos on stage, what seemed to be a rocket belt was then put on him and a launch sequence was started – counting down to zero. This concert had dramatically changed to a live movie without anyone even noticing.

As the launch sequence hit zero, the rocket belt lit up and the man in the space suit took off and literally flew outside the stadium as pyrotechnics mesmerized the crowd before a commanding voice over the sound system declared “ladies and Gentlemen – Mr. Michael Jackson has left the stadium”.

The only disappointment was that we were later to discover that the person who flew out in a space suit was stunt man Kinnie Gibson and not Michael Jackson, but then again, in between wondering at what point did Jacko switch with the stunt man, how do you not get mesmerized and totally blown in shock and awe of a once in a lifetime show like that.

That was no concert…that was a damn movie…LOL! I concluded on that day that there will never be a show that magically captivates and drives people crazy like that one did. It was one of them moments in life that you think back and say – WOW, I was there!

So what is it about this enigma of a human being who through life and in death continues to captivate people all around the world?

I think it was Quincy Jones who when asked to comment about Michael Jackson’s death said something like (and I paraphrase) “Michael doesn’t come along once in a while or once in a generation. He isn’t one in a million. He is just one. There will never be another Michael Jackson.”

You can’t argue with that, and perhaps one of the consequences of Jacko being just “the one” is that his whole life was a media spectacle. Since the age of 5, he has known nothing else but to live his life in the spotlight. And it’s also no surprise that with his talent and ability to mesmerize he is a global phenomenon in life and death.

Michael Jackson wasn’t just an influence in the lives of those who had the ability to watch his videos or follow his soap opera of a life in the western media. If you traveled to any village in any corner of this planet – whether it was the indigenous communities of the Amazon, or the remote villages say in Jirapa in northern Ghana, or the far reaches of Chittagong in Bangladesh, or the bundux of Gulu district in Uganda – the only globally recognized brand that could rival the global reach of Michael Jackson is Coca-Cola.

Having a soap opera of a life inevitably has its consequences and like many other public figures of fascination like Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley, Princess Grace of Monaco and Diana Princess of Wales, Michael did not disappoint in his exit off stage by going out in a blaze of controversy – almost as if it was part of the plot of his soap opera.

The mystery of his life and how he lived it was therefore a constant fascination to the global media who were always looking for a story to sell, and as drama goes, the more controversial, the better the copy will sell. There was never any doubt that Michael knew how to work the system to his advantage – it was his job as a show man, and he revelled in it.

He was savvy enough to manipulate the media to suit the project of marketing himself, but he was also a true living testament that if you live by the sword, it is very possible that you will die by it.

His latter years in life were shrouded by different scandals, and I think that when reflecting on his whole life and what purpose Jacko served on this planet, it is very unfair to equate his life to the scandals of child abuse allegations that dogged him in recent years. My take on this is that Jacko stood in front of a jury of his peers and answered to these allegations, and his peers acquitted him of all charges – and as much as the continuation of the scandal provides a constant talking point, the man was acquitted and he remains innocent.

The two aspects to his life couldn’t be more contrasting. On the one hand, the only place he was ever comfortable was on stage. He owned the stage and once he was in performance mode, there was never any doubt that you were looking at a genius and a dedicated professional who will stop at nothing to entertain the world because that was the only thing he knew.

The cost of being the enigma he was on stage was that he never grew up, and refused to give himself a chance to grow up – but then again, who are we to judge and lay blame. This was someone who had their childhood totally yanked from them and while other kids played in the park, he was sweating his guts out in rehearsals and on stage, and as a grown man, he never seemed to want to give up on rebuilding that childhood that was stolen from him.

It was that innocence and naivety that eventually signaled the beginning of the end for him with one of the fatal blows being the day that he met a one Martin Bashir. A long time friend of Michael Jackson, the illusionist Uri Geller confesses that his biggest regret was introducing Bashir to Jacko – after Bashir begged and pleaded for that introduction to a sad point of even presenting a crumpled note, apparently hand written by Diana Princess of Wales vouching for Bashir as “good guys”.

It’s my belief that the domino effect of that subsequent Martin Bashir documentary – Living with Michael Jackson – is what landed Jacko on the slab in the autopsy room of the Los Angeles coroner’s office.

Michael had always had a troubled existence behind closed doors – whether it was his dependency on pain killers – or his awkward and non-conventional life choices – but the last 6 years had been an unbearable burden on the man that was to eventually break him down.

“This is it” the series of London concerts at the O2 arena seemed an apt way for the King of Pop to rise from the stooper that dogged his recent life. I must admit, when I heard he was to do 50 shows, the first thought was that it was a ludicrous idea. 15-20 years ago, he used to do 50 or so shows but over a period of 2 years…and frankly speaking, it’s not that he was a spring chicken any more. The dude was 50.

There was also the risk that with his crocked body, maintaining the level and quality of performances that he had previously done was an extremely tall order at 50, and coupled with his recent personal drama and lifestyle, this was going to be a step too far even for the King.

They say God works in mysterious ways and maybe with his sense of humour, God found a way of not only relieving Michael Jackson off his very sad, lonely and broken existence – but he also found a way to preserve his legacy and music in a way that guarantees Jacko will never be forgotten.

God was kind to Whacko Jacko. The man needed to rest and God obliged. Jacko had already given us all his life, and maybe it was time for him to have it back in peace.


2011, The Year That Was

Have a blessed 2012.

In 2011 – I attended a Retirement Benefits Authority seminar. Whenever invitations come to the office, they’re shooed away to some old guy’s desk by default. This time he good naturedly commanded two of us to go learn about money in old age. Well, they did teach retirement and money – and then some. Sickness, loneliness, menopause, marital strife and feelings of loss of purpose in life among other old age challenges. They also put us through a few hours of candid talk about flailing sex in old age and what to do about it. Yes, that felt like hours.

I gave my story outside of this place. In case you missed it or would like to read it again, scoot over to Q & A Monday: Shiko-Msa at Wamathai’s.

This blog landed on Zuqka. The writer there ‘passes by for a dose of sassy and smart since the posts are a sweet mix of both’. Gracias.

I took a wrong turn. I bought an Ideos. No biggie, except I was completely unable to bond with it. Speaking strictly in terms of hardware, I was coming from a solid aluminium Nokia 6700 to a light weight battery guzzler that broke apart when it fell. I was coming from a 5mp Carl Zeis Optics camera for crying out loud.

I gave the Ideos to a nephew, only to win another one in some quiz. Tarots?! I decided to use it for some time. Nothing in recent times ever tested my patience as much as the Ideos, not because its a bad phone, but because I was a tad too impatient with its short comings. Even at the most normal of technology, say hanging and taking eons to come on, I was quite unforgiving. It pissed me off too often, so urgent replacement was a matter of human rights.

Some restlessness I’d started feeling reached peak. I need change. I need to distabilize something and start over. I need a storm. This rut must die. I’m currently orchestrating the murder of said rut. Go on, wish me luck.

I had my first car crash one bright Sunday mid morning. I was not hurt and neither was anyone else but I broke a windshield and a few other things. As much as just about everyone concluded that Sunday morning is Saturday night, I was totally sober. Lessons? Serious injury or even death are never too far away. Seat belts save lives. Car repairs take longer than speculated and cost much more than estimated.

I sat in for a colleague who was away on leave. Among other duties, I got to order stationery and the most I could do was ask people what they wanted on their desks. I got to learn that clear document pockets are called those transparent wharevers, thumb tucks are called those short pins and stick pads are called tu-yellow yellows.



Lady Gay1 182x300 Ladygay....

Ladygay is not just a lotion to me. Its the signature scent of my mother. If gizzards were my father, the sweet gentle scent of ladygay was and still is my mother. Her showing up at home bearing a gift – a new dress, a pair of shoes, or just tropical sweets that seemed to live in her handbag.

The ladygay scent was the calming reassurance in her room whenever scared little me moved there in the middle of a rainy night with particularly loud thunderstorms.

Ladygay was the scent that wafted through the house in the morning when she was getting ready for work and little me knew that mum was awake, alive and well. That the world was safe.

Today is not mother’s day or anything. I was just musing over what lotion to buy myself this time round when it occured to me that my Mum has used the same lotion all her life. How?!


Why Do I Blog?

Why do I blog? As in why do I own a little space in the internet abyss to write whatsoever I feel like? Why do I have a medium to interact with bright souls from all over the world? Because its really cool thats why. Seriously though…

  • Blogging ushered me into this community of great thinkers young and old. I love the idea of having a peek into the serious assortment of brains that is bloggers. Brains I would otherwise never have gotten to interact with in the brick and mortar world.
  • Contrary to possible expectations, I don’t talk much. Even if I did I doubt I would have talked this blog. Now I heard that bottled up ideas result to voices in the head. If I had not churned out 200 articles in my two or so years of blogging, I’d probably be stack raving by now.
  • Blogging makes me laugh. In the course of my blogging I’ve encountered many crazies who make me laugh real hard. Online, I relate better with good natured virtual conversations and humour than I do with manufactured jokes, quotes, inspirations and such.
  • Blogging got my online persona out there and as a direct result of that, I’ve made some not too few coins. Whether for fun or for money, blogging shall inexplicably be a contributing factor to my overall growth. I’ve known a lot of people, made a lot of friends, gone on to meet some, developed and executed other ideas in the real world and …. grown. No I did not meet McShiko from the blogs.
  • I like to try things. I’ll try out everything within my reach at least once. Key words ‘within my reach’. Thats why I intend to milk a goat soon. Ish like going to space with Richard Branson is not within my reach. Neither is Karaoke.
  • They kept telling me I could write. I kept asking write what. Write where. Then blogging came about and the rest is current affairs. When the Lord asks me what I did with my life, I seriously think I would say I put whatever little writing ability I have to some use.
  • In here I have a small time family of me own who I believe would offer support and encouragement in a jiffy if I put a cry out there.
  • Is it silly to say that I love Decor? And that in a blog I have an online house to decorate as I wish? Splash colour, put bows, ribbons and nice little badges if I wanted to?

Nothing to blog 300x218 Why Do I Blog?

I think in the end I blog because I can.

Before I started blogging I was warned that I would have to develop a thick skin because some mean people out there would come and say mean things. I’ve never seen the need for that because I don’t see why someone should come to my personal space and spill vitriol. If my space is any offensive, you kinda sorta just don’t show up no? If blogging involved having to deal with barbs and online feuds daily then I really would have to think twice about it.

Why do you blog?


This Is A Comp And This Is A Mouse

Dear Boss,

Congratulations for the purchase of a new computer. For finally seeing the light and embracing the information age albeit in old age. It’s never too late for these things you know.


  • Your keyboard has all the letters in the alphabet. Let’s avoid that ‘this keyboard does not have R’ thing. It does. Why can’t they put the letters in alphabetical order? Because typing and finger movement is a well thought out science and one finger typing was not considered.
  • The right and left mouse keys are not all yours for the pressing. Ok they are but forget about the secondary side until later. It can make life difficult for a beginner. Speaking of the mouse, it’s not to be pushed around with the finger tips but rather held firmly with the hand.
  • You can finally drop the unnecessary paperwork. When an E-mail is sent to you, in most instances you’ll not need a printed copy. The information will be identical anyway. We have a planet to save. Best over the counter sleeping aids.
  • Every once in a while you’ll need mega doses of patience. Ever seen a donkey that  completely refuses to move no matter what? Computers do that too. As you can see, all our hair is still intact so chill out and learn to restart.
  • There is E-mail and Internet. Something dot something dot something is not an E-mail address.
  • ‘But I only missed one small dot!’ Yes it was just a small dot but in this world you just joined it can stop you going places.
  • For double click to work it has to be fast. Real fast. There’s also triple click but you might not need it.
  • And finally a little secret. Windows+M. The best 2 keys on your keyboard. For those times when someone happens on you reading inappropriate/confidential stuff and in your panic you cannot find the X to click. Emphasis on inappropriate. Something like reading berocca reviews while you should be working.

You’ll love this world as you get to learn it. Trust me.

PS: This article is writen with full blessings of the subject. He’s fully aware that his situation is material for a blog post. A what? A blog post. A blog is this place on the internet that ………


Who Is Your Chief?

Up until yesterday (August, 30) I was of the opinion that I’d not been enumerated in the ongoing Census. After all, nobody had knocked on my door and there was no calling card to indicate that they came in my absence. I’ve since learnt that the enumerators did come but never got past security. They asked for information at the gate and security was happy to oblige. So much for the answers I’d prepared to their questions of whether I use electricity, what level of education my 3 year old nephew had attained so far, what type of floor I have, whether I own any livestock, canoes, handcarts or chicken. Anyway, if they were satisfied with the info they got, fine by me.

But supposing they had not come? The next requirement was to to to the Provincial Office or the local Chief. This I was not going to do but all the same it got me thinking, who is my chief? Heck, who is my District Officer? Who is my District Commissioner?

My earliest memory of a Chief is back in the village when at a young age, Mum gave me a small piece of land to grow veggies for the family and food for my rabbits. Nearby there was this huge tree that was dwarfing my weeds and I saw no reason why it could not be cut down. I mentioned that to Mum and she said we would have to get permission from the village Chief. True nobody was allowed to cut indigenous trees without permission from the authorities. Chiefs were a respected lot although I could swear their high standing in society came second to that of teachers. But in this case Mum was just joking and that was her way of putting the matter to rest.

The issue was instantly forgotten until i came across said Chief and asked him if the big tree could be felled. He gently declined my request. I think he even laughed and I hated him for it at that time. But now I understand. It’s a Mugumo tree and it stands to date. Such is the beauty of innocence. Felling a Mugumo tree because it was overshadowing baby potatoes, spinach, peas and rabbit feed.

The next time I had any business with the Chief was when I was registering for my National ID. The then Chief has since retired, I’ve no clue who the current one is, his/her office, his/her area of jurisdiction and what he/she does exactly. Both home and in Mombasa where I spend most of my time. I guess I need to find out just to know.

So, who is your Chief?


Thomas Beatie Pregnant Again

After giving birth to this beautiful baby girl earlier in the year, Thomas Beatie the transgender who made headlines for being the first ‘man’ to fall pregnant is at it again. He’s expecting his second baby in June next year.

Their unique case is also a business opportunity of sorts. Having sold pictures of the baby for an estimated $300,000/-, I wonder how much money the couple will make when their second baby arrives.


Which Doctors for Peace?

Our local media is either ignorant or pretends not be aware of the practice by members of the Peace Research Institute in Oslo to speculate on the possible nominees for the Nobel Peace Prize. Either way, it seems to serve them well to stir-fry the guesswork with such hype as;

The World to Fete the Big Three

… President Kibaki and the PM were believed to be frontrunners for the Nobel Peace Prize”.

Then after the winner had been announced, they wept;

President Kibaki and Prime Minister Raila Odinga have missed out on the most prestigious peace award that some western media-houses had bet they would win“.

The news lines are obviously mere pandering for which politicians are known to pay for, sometimes quite cheaply. It is only after fifty years that we can confirm whether the two found their way to the list and by what route. Personally, I’d love to celebrate that the two never even made it to the list before wondering who in their right frame of mind would think of suggesting their names.

But we not need to wait that long. First, because I think that in half that time the two will have been buried in the rubbish bin of history and therefore seeking out such details then will not be even remotely stimulating. Secondly, judging from the feigned enthusiasm of the University of Nairobi to confer honorary doctorate degrees upon the two and the accompanying feeble citations that echo the recent media hoopla, the dons at the UoN easily give themselves away. Presumably the doctorates will compensate their favorite sons for losing out on the Nobel Prize.

Of course the university has a right to decorate whomsoever they wish with whatever degree they can create. Inherent in that right also, is the freedom to massage the ego of whichever potentate that directs the flow of money. What they cannot do is fool the citizenry that Kibaki and Raila deserve any award for engendering, restoring, preserving or fostering peace. It is akin to applying lipstick to a pig in recognition for its lifetime achievements in cleanliness.

Kibaki and Raila are culpable for all that went wrong during the post-election violence as the just released Inquiry report suggests. Their names are very likely to feature at the International Criminal Court in uncomplimentary light that makes them totally undeserving of the Nobel Prize for Peace. The UoN cannot pretend not have been aware of the reservations regarding the role played by the two in the mayhem. It is therefore intellectual dishonesty to rush into conferring degrees upon them amidst such damning allegations. They cannot pretend not to have read that some plotters of the mayhem even held their meetings at the President’s official residence. And the PM is on record for repeatedly calling for the release of suspected arsonists, murderers and rapists in police custody because “they were fighting for democracy”.

For sure, we have a goodly number of disingenuous copy typists masquerading as news editors who regularly sell headlines about Raila coughing or Kibaki’s midnight row with the First Lady. But while the regular servings of empty-headed politicking and rumor peddling have thus far kept them in profitable business, this venerating of villains is particularly offensive. Not only are they both culpable for plunging the country into the said inferno, they are yet to employ the power that they share to sort out the after effects. Photo sessions with plaster grins and awards every other week are an insult to the hundreds of thousands who are still to this day suffering the consequences of the violence.

During the award ceremony, the vice-chancellor remarked that he was pleased Kibaki and Raila are being seen to be getting along well and therefore dismissed their surrogates to “continue bickering if they wish”. By extension, for as long as the two are smiling at the cameras together, their supporters can continue hammering each other if they so wish.

A man cannot set his house ablaze, watch from the fence as his neighbors put out the flames then later adorn robes to claim an award for having let in the firefighters.

What a doctoral way of achieving
peace… or a peaceful (piss-full) way to achieve a doctorate.


Telkom Kenya Mobile Services

At last some stiff competition is coming in the telecommunications sector with the unveiling of Telkom Mobile Services this week. Things can only get better for the end user since hopefully prices will come down and existing telecommunication companies will introduce more services and improve on existing ones.

Telkom for most people has been a complete nightmare with their landline service in the past. Their name reminds one of the bad days when it was synonymous with corruption and bad service. With their new management, re-branding and rolling out of new services, I’m optimistic that things will change.