Sadly, Nana Gichuru is gone. A wannabe philosopher she may have been with all those dark quotes from Hunter Thomson, the father of ‘gonzo journalism’ (which I can claim without fear to have pioneered here).
Only folks in their 20s can afford to be wannabe corpses, that is, to glamourise dying and death with updates like - ‘Die, but make sure you leave a pretty corpse behind.’
After you blow out those candles on your 30th birthday cake, you never want to think about age, ever again. Some of us wannabe forever younglings simply stop celebrating birthdays, or even acknowledging the darn date on the calendar.
Some people came out on the attack against Alai - who has to be the bride at every wedding and the corpse at every funeral - about being ‘insensitive’ to Nana’s demise. But I am a big Alai fan because he is real and Twitter-tears down the many wannabes in our city, just like Bonnie Mwangi.
Which brings me to the self-righteous prig wannabes I wish to rugby tackle this week, those fake ‘do-gooders’ who are ever filled with righteous and indignant outrage on every cause, and are heroes and heroines at creating *hash tags about things, but really never do anything beyond feverish typing of opinions on their smartphones.
#StopTeachersFromEatingTheTreasury. #StopTanzaniansFromEatingAlbinos, etc. And here a shout out to this column’s big fan, Billy Bosswony.
I saw some young lady, Miss Mandi, go on television with a real wannabe ‘cause’ - how to make one hundred dishes in one hundred days or something, and I thought, ‘How Bourgeoise.’ Not like the rock song, How Bizarre!
She should go be a maid in Saudi Arabia for a day and she will learn how to make 100 dishes - including camel entrail and pig hoof - in one hundred minutes. But then I went on her blog and saw a shout out to whoever learned how to make vodka from potatoes - Russian monks, 500 years ago Miss Mandi - and forgave her wannabeeism.
Moving on, there are guys like this queer feller called Mr Mukia whose idea of activism is looking for ‘misogyny’ topics in elite conferences they have not organised. Here, they demand to be scrapped and going around with a shabby gang of privileged goons (#ButtLivesMatter) to the back of rooms where public discussions are going on, and then at audience participation time, this Mukia will stand up to heckle as he is cheered on by his juvenile buddies.
Stupid sophomoric wannabe behaviour. Yet you will never see them at demonstrations where there is likely to be blood and tear-gas like the Lang’ata school one, showing us that even my kindergarten-age daughter has more balls than wannabes like these, because she at least has the courage to climb up gates and walls.
Hecklers like the Mukias are heroes only in their own heads, but have as much touch with reality as the fairies in the fairy-tale land they live in, and are.
Then there are the ‘holier than thou’ church people who know only one book in the whole world, the Bible, yet these wannabes can dare sneer at scientists, physicists, worldwide readers and intellectual leaders who have figured out or at least know about evolution, the Big Bang Theory and other smart stuff beyond tales of floods, whales and apples.
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