Perfect Imperfections

          Sometimes it is in order to be fascinated by a defect or an imperfect circumstance or an unfortunate occurrence. You know…. for instance the thrill of events colluding to create the worst of the accidents in the movies or that strategically disguised concrete block that will send you flying onto the floor in your mitumba mabati suit . Instead of feeling sorry for the affected parties, you will be busy digesting the beauty of the events. I guess this is the ideology that most artists use to sell their work. A guy tries to paint/draw an object then in the middle of it he realizes that he has messed it up, what does he? He smears different colours of paint on it in frustration and hangs it for exhibition. It is later auctioned and ends up in some rich, cigar smoking, pot bellied, bald headed guy’s clande’s bedroom.

Well this week I saw a perfect imperfection. I happen to be one of the Kenyans crossing Uhuru Park in the evening from job. Don’t judge, it saves money, time and money. I failed include that it saves money too. With my earphones on, tuned to X fm and daydreaming about my mansion about to be completed inside the CBD, I saw her. The lady in front of me must have been a Toyota…sorry I got carried away. The lady in front of me had the most spectacular knock-knee legs you can imagine. It was an absolute beauty. The tiny yellow dress complemented her wonderfully. They were so perfectly done that I couldn’t help but stare as she…er...um sashayed away. Sometimes you can’t help but concede that it takes so much effort to create something to be in such perfect imperfection.

They say you got to embrace your weakness and you will live in peace. Everybody has a weakness or two and each one has a customized way of overcoming it. It turns ugly if one leaves his/her weakness unattended and it eventually runs wild, possibly becoming a wild animal in the process. It is worse if the weakness impinges the tom, dick and NATB whom you interact with. We all know Sonko’s weakness. I was also enthralled by how far he could go to prove that he is really a..…well, I have no appropriate word.

I got an invite to grace some fundraiser with my presence at the Sarova Stanley (but do I say..).  Hey I have no money to give away; it’s just that it was work related. The chief guest was Sonko. So I had the occasion of being in the same room with the one and only sonko. Yaani I had an opportunity of throwing a punch or a curse word right into his face for the days he had made me puke in my mouth. As you have envisaged I did not take the chance.

I supposed that that day he could overlook his folly for a change. The guy never squanders any chance to astound. He started off by giving a very ridiculous conspiracy story about the Sinai fire. Maybe he it was true. The amount sonko gave is not an issue. It is the amount his bodyguard gave and the token from the prime minister that perturbed me. His bguard gave a donation of 10K. He insisted he was a PA but am sure he was the body guard, unless these days P.As are twice your height and wear jeans and a t-shirt written ‘Convict’. The guy was behind sonko’s back even when he went to the loo. Of course Mr. PA couldn’t utter a word in English. Sonko then declared that the prime minister had sent him with a donation of 50bob. Who does that? Well, it is only him. I really wonder how these breed of Kenyan leaders will be eliminated. Such public display of imperfection by people expected to be reverential makes me question boasting that we are better than the monkeys.

            Boom box playlist:

            Fuckin’ Perfect – Pink

            Before it explodes – Alexandra Burke ft Bruno Mars