There are those days where you lazily go home. The days you ask yourself what would have happened if you refused to be pushed off your mother’s cervix and just stayed intact attached to your food resource pipe and eternally moonwalked inside the womb.

You think and start blaming yourself why you came out to this world of CBC and Chicken Sella and drought and ex-girlfriends. You are deep in thought wondering why ‘kiherehere yako’ made you buy the latest iPhone or that air fryer that has now become a Greek sculpture in your kitchen.

Nairobi traffic makes you wonder, ‘Why don’t I have a driver to chauffer me around?” You are so worn out by the day’s activities and you make a few head hydraulics then you realize that you almost hit someone’s butt. I mean their car’s butt not what your dirty mind is thinking about.

It is then that you realize that your car has a radio. Those who own air fryers call it stereo. You skim through Titi na Gost, to some crazy Indian station, to Vincent Ateya, to some weed station and back to the power button. You are so tired to listen to anything.

But again you have nothing to do. Your phone is off so you can’t call anyone and because of how massive it is omera, it cannot be charged by a mere cigarette lighter. And because you spent all your money on buying the phone, you cannot afford to buy a power bank because you want a 140W power bank that can charge both your laptop and phone you just have to sit your ass in the car and start singing traditional songs.

But a beauty in some clean Mercedes GLE glides past you in traffic and gives you the look that asks, “Are you seriously singing traditional songs?” So you give your stereo another shot and boom, a voice from the wildernes, high pitched (but not Kisii-pitched) from the top of the highlands strikes you!

“Hallo tokta love!”

“Hello”

“Hello, hapa ni Classic 105?”

“Yes it is.”

“Unachua nimeguwa nikitaka sana kupika hii namba. Umesema hapa ni Classic?”

I could sense that ‘Tokta Love’ was amused. For some reason he had to countercheck if he was in Milele FM, Kass FM or Chamgei FM.

“Unawesa nichesea wimpo? Tetikeshen kwa gitu yangu, sore, kwa kalfrent yangu?”

“Yeah we can, what is your good name sir?”

“Naitwa Kipng’eno from Pomet.”

“And what do you want us to play for you sir?”

“Nichesee ‘My Love’ by Cyrus Milka Goech!”

“I am not sure I really know that one sir!”

“Ache? Ache? Tokta Love, na venye nachua wewe ni mchancha hii town?”

*Tokta Love goes silent.

You know There is a way Dr. Love handles his listeners. I think he serves as a pastor when he is not caressing people’s ears on radio. He knows and effects the true meaning of love is patient and kind.

Kipng’eno realizes that he couldn’t request his best friend’s song on classic. Kambas know this very well. They know they are international. They do not request ‘pungulu pangala’ on local stations, they don’t stoop that low.

Ken Wa Maria is already a global hit according to them. They wait for the Chinese to make their songs trend, local stations give them airtime whether they like it or not. They also have King’ang’i as their representative. Man, to survive in this county, you just need connection everywhere.

Upon realizing that Cyrus Milka Goech is only popular in his village, Kipng’eno makes another request.

“Pasi nichesee, “Show Me The Meaning of Peing Lonely,” by Chris Prown. I want to tetikate it to my love, Tetyo!”

Because love is tender and doesn’t keep a record of wrongs, Tokta Love doesn’t correct him that Chris Prown wasn’t even born when that song was being released instead he says;

“‘Show me the meaning’ coming right your way!”

I believe Tetyo the kalfriend was far away from the guy and he was really missing her so much. Which I meant to ask, “Do Kalenjin men miss their ladies? Are they even romantic? Or they are our equivalent? Us guys of Enkeju Emuny’?” Guys tell me that in the comments because these people stole two kalfriends from me in the past.

I think women just love them for how genuine and honest they are. A Kale guy will never pretend. He will serve you everything raw. They would tell you, “Hisi kucha kama sa mashetani sa Nigeria mofies usiweke. Huwa sinaniogopesha usiku.”

They would say, “Mimi hifi ndifyo niko, my friend, wewe nipende tu kama fenye unaona, chesa gama wewe!” And now you wonder who is supposed to do the play.

Kale guys are my biggest friends. I love their honesty, how they would help each other and daaaamn! I just love how they keep secrets. What do you love about your tribesmen?