There was always an air of pride surrounding Tajush back in high school. And don’t get me wrong, it’s not that negative hubris girls in Mpesa shops in CBD have, no. It is that pride that makes everyone around revere you. And I admired it, to be honest.
Beyond milk white teeth and a tough look, though, lies a writer. You see, Tajush doesn’t think I remember a conversation we had about us doing Literature in campus. We laughed it off and he said “Boss, tutagraduate alafu tuishi Kibra tukiTarmac.” Three years later, we’re doing ‘better’ courses and probably, God forbid, we may still tarmac.
Here goes his first of many guest posts. Catch him every week here.
Clap for him as he climbs on to the stage.
You probably have over a thousand followers or friends; whatever you may call them, on your social media. You feel good about this. Perhaps you post snippets of your life on these social media handles and your followers/friends don’t let you down, they always like and comment on every bit of them. This should be something great, out of the ordinary even. I mean who would not want empathy on their life when it’s the only thing that makes us human, the need to feel appreciated and wanted. We craved for empathy right from when we were born, that’s why we cried so our mamas could comfort and hold us in their arms when we were young. It is one major human need, one that if denied upon us would lead to certain atrocities, say suicide.
This is the age where social life has been redefined especially by us, millennials. Face to face conversations are now thing of the past, archaic. We chat when in school buses, at dinner tables, when we meet over at a party. It’s the way of life and trying to live different is outrageous, tantamount to backwardness even. You have perhaps heard, maybe even read somewhere that this storm called social media has created a generation of narcissists. A generation stuck in a box where vanity is the fair game set out to be played by everyone and happiness is defined by the number of likes, comments or shares we get on our stuff on social media. There is a certain air of competition among us, millennials, where trying to see who has the better pics, better videos, at better hangout joints, etc is the norm. We don’t love what we do; we just try to outdo one another instead.
Don’t get it twisted, it’s fine by me to live life to its fullest, that’s okay. Don’t even think that I’m whining because of some insecurity on my side. I’m not insecure, in fact I’m a decent looking guy that ladies won’t shy off from calling cute whenever I post a pic (King here. Here’s the air of pride I was telling you about), though I don’t like it, the cute tag. I think ‘cute’ has some disadvantages tied to it. First of all, ladies give the tag cute to all things they perceive to be harmless to them, like a kitten, a puppy, a small handsome looking young boy etc. I feel like calling a grown ass man cute means they see in him something else, something that shouldn’t be seen, and something not to be laid in bed. Stop laughing, I get laid, in fact more than often but you get the point, being cute is not a compliment as such, it’s a coated compliment, a sweet bitter pill that the person in subject has to swallow with grimace written all over their face. I also hangout a lot with a few pals, I just don’t have the nerve to share them with strangers. They are moments meant to be savored and I don’t think enjoying the moment means taking a selfie or a video to let peeps know what we are up to.
I recently got a snapchat account which if I had to be honest with you, I didn’t know how to use. It’s like that white elephant in the room that no longer has a purpose. Expensive and useless yet I still let it stay and occupy all the
space. See, I have all these apps on my phone, some of which just occupy space with no use at all. So to keep myself busy whenever there is nothing or so little to do, I use the yellow telescope, snapchat, to spy on my ‘better’ doing friends and see what they are up to. That spying has been going on for a while now and it’s not paying off. In fact, I want to dispose of this possession with a lot of regrets about why I bought it in the first place. I have seen things I shouldn’t see on it, blurted stuff that shouldn’t be blurted. Let me put this into perspective here, what do you do as a human when you see your alleged friends, peeps you should be on some financial level shit ball with, with Hennessy- not one nor two, but four f-ing Hennessy bottles? You know how much a bottle cost? You probably don’t know ’cause you are a broke mofo. A bottle in a regular club would cost 14500 bob. Let that sink in.
Now close your eyes and stop thinking about those four- Hennessy –bottle- buying friends of mine, just think about yourself for a moment, about your life, your wretched life. Then ask yourself some simple yet deep soul searching questions, how much could 15 f-ing k do for you? How many kidneys would you have to sell to get that, don’t even multiply by four? I know you will come up with good answers but to cut a short story shorter, that is exactly how social media makes us to believe life is. Life is not a fairy tale where everything is perfectly placed and laced with happiness like we often see on media. Life is full of twists and turns, ups and downs, hills and valleys but social media life seems to be constant, with no ebbs and tides, perfect. Perhaps those pals had the money, perhaps they have side hustles I wouldn’t know or maybe they have parents with loads of cash which they use to spoil them, have no contention with that. My worry is about that boy in Bomet County who follows them on social media and would want to emulate. He would have to call Hov to join the illuminati to get that. This is the reality with social media, one we are not ready to accept, we just flow with the vibe.
I don’t want to go on ranting about this, some of us wouldn’t like it but sometimes the truth deserves a Grammy not Chance the rapper or Drake but J. Cole. He doesn’t get those Grammys because we have grown in a generation where we choose what is true and go with it but the real truth is shunned, frowned upon even. Social media is a lie, one that my household (Sorry for interrupting again, but I just had to acclaim ‘household.’ Proceed.) and I will only use for business, not to show that we are living right. The business bit is where I will try as much as possible to get a million followers, people who genuinely love me for what I do or stand for, not just some misplaced trust in how I’m doing in life. I deleted that snapchat account because really, nobody cares.