Isn’t it ironic: We said our government was of old men. But hey.. they cool. I mean the president is given to making pronouncements from Governor’s Mansion in dated sheng. Then the other day as I was walking; walking and talking to my boy Timi, I saw that the roads had changed.
There were markings. Markings in a psychedelic shade of yellow, or is it orange. The government was doing more graffiti than I do. Now who is the tramp? Who is the idler? Juvenile Delinquent?
But I can beat them in that game. Yeah, the playing field isn’t level. They got their truckloads of paint and all I got is a pilfered spray can. But I got the experience…well (I have to claim experience in something- maybe some head hunter will read this call me for an interview: ‘Wanted, Immature 26 year old with 10 years experience in staring at walls…doing nothing that isn’t mentioned in the law books and good in junk communication.’ Of course if you are wondering what job I would qualify for, I say M.P)
Yes the government is old. So what if they are good at graffiti. Hey maybe that is some thing new that they threw into the Highway Code or whatever that book Kenyan drivers do not read is called. Maybe the government has said “YES” to a new Highway Code, and obviously since they live in Mars, and we, in er..uhm…Kenya- duh!- we don’t know they did.
Did I say old? Yeah a bunch of old guys doing graffiti. I call my style of graffiti Stone Zone recline. It is a throw back to the cave man days. Yes, man has always needed to write on walls, from way back before he could write. It is a primal instinct. So my style, I define as a regression to that base instinct but sketching with tools of the future. The mind. My mind is my medium, my template. I draw, doodle, spray paint on the walls of my mind.
Wonder what the government calls their style. Retro- Makerere?
Retrophilians! Did I say I could beat them in their game? Maybe I cannot. But my mind is my action zone. In my mind, I will shit-can them. Spray paint them with a can of piss.
“I win! I win!” I need a gleeful smile to walk to.
Walking and thinking.
The roads aren’t what they used to be. I hear it said once that Kenyan roads resemble the lunar landscape. Then I came to realize that the existing photos of the moon were taken in Kenya. It was all a big conspiracy. (Remember the Tom Mboya Airlifts? That was blood money.) Of course you thought the Airlifts were all about engaging the emerging republic. Decolonise your mind!
Then again, I am thinking of crop circles and related things. Maybe the aliens- our rulers who art in Mars -finally want to make contact with us their mortal subjects. They need some special markings on our otherwise unmarked roads to land their space ships. You must of necessity find a road first before you can make a road side declaration