Yaani people are real vegetables. NO MORE MAIL asking for past issues! For the last time: Past issues of Thinker's Room can be found HERE!!! And reading any further means that you agree to the DISCLAIMER

February 8: Birthday of a small tyke masquerading as my youngest brother.
February 13: Watch harassed young men break their necks on the Eve of a big day. It remains to be seen if I will break mine.
February 14: Cupid's Day. Hmmm..... I wonder....
February 15: Project deadline! Buy are things being cut a mite tight!
February 22: Anniversary of aan Uncle of Mine -- 20 years of marital bliss!

As the days go back I continue to get the impression that in a previous life I must have been a particularly energetic cat. Why do I say this? Chiefly because last week was replete with incidents that left me wondering just how many of my lives I have left.

Let us begin with Wednesday night. As usual I was minding my own business and making excellent time when something entered the left hand side of my window. I would much rather it was some delicate cologne or the aroma of a newly unwrapped fried chicken but the unfortunate reality was that it was nothing other than 100%, tested on animals and humans, tear gas. Yes sirree bob! Tear gas I can tell you firsthand that it is not called tear gas for nothing. The first step of the assault is your nose. One whiff of the stuff will convince you that paraffin has been sprinkled on your nasal cavities and then set alight. Before you have time to deal with this your eyes suddenly feel as if a billion army ants have begun to bite away at your eyeballs. While your confused mind is trying to deal with all this your throat also decides that it has been left out of the action for long enough and it decides that it is irritated and needs to be cleared at once. The net effect of all this is that you quite inadvertently begin coughing like an elderly VW Beetle with but a single cylinder left and without asking your opinion your eyes and your nose start running. Let us not forget that while you are in this condition driving and the state of the road are the last thing on your mind. Opening the window does not help one little bit as the stuff feels and rightly so that it has been through thick and thin to get to you and it will be damned to give up to a measly breeze! While your body refuses to cooperate your mind kicks into action and reminds your head that it is far much better to inhale some tear gas than it is to stop the solid mass of a truncheon that the inevitable policeman will swing at your cranium. For there is no doubt where there is tear gas there is a policeman close at hand. The next few minutes were very confused but somehow I got away from town and arrived at my castle with tears running freely down my cheeks. (From the tear gas!!!) It later transpired that some Polytechnic students had decided to go on the rampage and some policemen were called upon to convince the students that they did not want to go on the rampage using the simple method of permanently and without the aid of local or general anesthesia attempting to alter forever the contours of their crania.

Moving on to Thursday Night, I am in the arms of Morpheus (that means I was asleep!) when a shattering crash plucked me from a very nice dream I was having where I was sitting down to a large lunch on the beach. I opened one eye and heard the crash repeated several times. It was but a moment's work to get to the window and look down. The individual kicking my gate with quite unnecessary energy looked up and saw me and the following conversation (mostly accurate) ensued:

MAN: Open this door! Fungua Mlango!
ME: That is a gate. And I'll be damned if I will! Ushindwe!
MAN: (In some annoyance) Are you refusing to open this gate?
ME: You're much smarter than you look. I am refusing, declining and unwilling to open that gate.
MAN: Do you know who I am?
ME: You could be Osama Bin Laden's Billy Goat for all I care. If you don't know who you are this is a fine time to be finding out!
MAN: You don't know who I am!
ME: Nor do I wish to. I do realize that Valentine's Day is next week but I am not that liberal...
MAN: Open this door at once!
ME: (Getting irritated) And who the devil are you making all this racket at one in the morning?
MAN: Are you aware that I am a policeman?
ME: (Sarcastically) Are you now? I suppose very few have access to ill fitting berets, boots and the manners of a slab of beef. How do I know that you are a policeman?
MAN: Will you stop being difficult or shall I go and call the Senior Sergeant?
ME: You do that. While you're at it fetch Father Christmas, will you?
MAN: {reply deemed to be unsuitable for children below 69 years}

Some minutes later returns with a portly buxom with a hat that was clearly designed for someone with a smaller head. Behind them were three uniformed officers.
Senior Sergeant (SS): You! Are you the one in this house?
ME: Looks like it doesn't it?
SS: Open this gate at once.
ME: I've asked this before and I am going to ask again. Why on earth am I opening the gate to total strangers at one in the morning?
SS: We are conducting a search in the area for foreigners...
ME: AT ONE IN THE BLOODY MORNING??!!!
SS: You refuse to cooperate with us and yet when there is trouble you expect us to come and help you?
ME: To tell the truth helps is the last thing I expect from you ladies and gentlemen. But seeing as if I don't open the gate I won't get to bed I shall come down and open it.

A minute later am swinging the gate open to see close to 20 representatives of the law outside my Castle.
ME: Well, what fair wind brings all of you here?
SS: (Bitterly) You are the only one who has refused to open.
ME: Doesn't say much about the security consciousness of my neighbours, does it?
SS: Your ID?
ME: As it happens I do carry it around in my pajama pocket. Here you go.
SS: (After close scrutiny) You are a Kenyan?
ME: (Sotto voice) Actually I am a Hottentot....
SS: (Sharply) What was that?
ME: Nothing! Nothing at all!
SS: I should authorize a search of your house. Perhaps you are hiding someone?
ME: Look all you like. Don't forget to look behind my ears, under the sink and in the bottles of the servant's quarter for the horde of foreigners at my disposal.
SS: (Bitterly) Why are you so uncooperative?
ME: I'd be a damn sight more cooperative if the bell was rung and I was asked nicely to produce my ID card.
SS: Very well. We shall go now. (Sarcastically) Have a good night.
ME: (Even more sarcastically) You too now!

For some of us our noses smell and our feet run. For the rest of us our noses run and our feet smell!

Pull a Prince and change My name completely. I am getting tired of 'Thinker' and to tell the truth adopted it only because I lost a bet. Which name? I dunno.... we'll see.
Postpone the idea of the essays at least for the first few months. I shall get to them in good time
Write lots more of those articles that everyone is harassing me to write.
Shelve our Aunt Mojo for a few months too
Let you sample some of My other works. I invite opinions on some of the short stories I've written
Change the entire layout of the page

Otherwise everything will pretty much me the same ;-)

I have a constitutional right to give My own shout-outs to whoever I please!

Mightypeople: I think you are Mightyfoolish for sending me Mightyamounts of Mightynonsense that I did not Mightyask for. For the Mightylast time would you kindly Mightystop sending me your MightyCrap?!!
akenyan: Who on earth are you?
Angie: Where on earth have you disappeared to? Talk to me!
Jim: I await with bated breath the reforms!!
RIP: What's cooking man?!!
Judy: Time's A wasting!
Cherie: Silence is not always golden!
Byran: Am open to suggestions
Geff: I can hardly wait to see what that fertile mind shall do this year!
P: All right, you're on! I shall put up a poem designed, written built and refined by yours truly in my next issue!
Kuria: Mali, like I told you, is out the door! Mboma and co. MBELE!!!