We live in a world where the average person on twitter owns a duvet, tweets via iPad complains about traffic in the morning, smokes Mj, goes to high ended clubs, listens to the Cypher and watches Tujuane on Friday night and complains about being broke when they have 1500 shillings on them. Lanes, people, lanes!
Every day is a hustle for retweets, and like Darwin’s natural selection process posits; survival is for the fittest . Some tweeps manage to woo retweets by their funny posts; others make use of wordplay go out of their way and put their creative bones into good use to make the funniest trolls ever. The not so lucky ones resort to theft, mercilessly stealing peoples hard-thought tweets just for the sake of retweets, a typical scenario of cognitive robbery albeit without violence. Survival is the key word here. Apart from the retweet hustle, tweeps struggle to fit in with the cool kids on the twitter block, rather too hard at times.
I will neither fool you nor try to hop into this entourage. I am an average village girl that got to enjoy the benefits of the city either by sheer luck or destiny; I am not certain which it is. I do not have a cool accent neither do I speak the ‘you guy’ sort of English, just regular old English and Swahili with taint of Kalenjin exhibiting itself here and there. Nothing to be ashamed of, even Wazungus speak Swahili with a weird accent and no one complains about it. I tweet about food cause that’s my greatest passion second to sleep. So this village girl knows nothing about fashion etcetera, jeans and tee-shirts work for me. How I look is the least of my concerns at times, so long as I can cover my nakedness I am good to go.
I am that girl that cannot differentiate the back of a mascara brush from the front, neither do I understand how my fellow females manage to be adept in the art. Thus I have resigned to the fact that perhaps it is a talent that I was not bestowed with. Give me make-up and I will use it to colour my notebook, maybe someone will teach me the magic they use this stuff for someday but for now, I will stick to my plain Jane lane. Vaseline and lotion are complicated enough for me, and I prefer it when life is as simple as possible. I once bought lipstick that I never got to use and that marked the end of my trying to be a lady. But I am happy, things seem perfect the way they are, I wouldn’t want to change a thing. There’s nothing as sweet as living life without trying to impress a single soul, get it from me. Being you is the best gift you can give to yourself. If something makes you happy then by all means do it. For now I will gladly stick to my village girl, Writelonger,200 bob and me lanes…