The other day my friend Sam dragged me to his local somewhere along Thika Road. It was reggae night. Sam is crazy about reggae. I don’t care much for reggae music so I was not that amused. We get there and the place is packed. Sam is a regular here so Shiro, his favourite waitress, manages to secure us sitting next to this dreadlocked couple. They are chewing a fat bunch of what looks like freshly plucked khat. They welcome us warmly and continue draining their half-full bottle of Gordons. ”Kawaida” Sam makes the order. Shiro brings our drinks and after blessing our departed, we start to imbibe. The place is painted red, yellow and green. Bob Marley is smiling down on us from the murals and paintings across the hall. The music is loud. The MC keeps interrupting the music with his commentary. His little jokes are hilarious I have to admit, but annoying at the same time. Maybe it is because he is a tad too personal. Tarrus Riley is next on the decks. The MC does the thing again. MC: ”If you feel like you have me wrapped around your little finger…” Crowd: ”You’re Wrong! MC: ”Kama […]
