Frank Fredericks would have been proud of me.

Flight or fight? Flight.

That was me, all the time my uncles tried to lay their hands on me. I was gloriously naughty. I think I messed up almost daily, the only times when I didn’t do something worth of getting me whipped was when I slept, which was very minimal. I was the most problematic 8 years old in the village and I grew up thinking that my name is ‘Haitii kaanaave” which translates to a rather not so kind “hey you kid’. I did the best I could do, to be the best kid ever, but I just had so much energy in me. I really could not contain it and so I resorted to just being me. Naughty and always out and about.

Mum told me I was a very handsome kid, which doesn’t add up, why would you then let your cousins and aunties whip your handsome kid? Made me feel like she only said that because I’m her son and you’ve got to constantly tell your kid that he is handsome.

I grew up in a village. Like any other boy, I had to spend most of my time herding cattle and goats and that’s like the utmost curse for a wambo kid, it is responsible for 93% of the beatings we receive growing up. In my case, it was negligence, I had a “Wat sal hulle maak?” mentality and my pace gave me reason to just let shit hit the fan cause when my uncles pull out their belts and try to whip me, I miraculously transformed into a short little Frank Fredericks, leaving them in a cloud of dust while I gallop away like a fresh and young antelope.

This one time, me and my fav cousin Waka decided we will do what many kids do; play with toy cattle made of clay soil. We sat and put our hands to work, not realizing the most rude and really petty goats running into mum’s field. Now THAT’S like a one way ticket into the killing zone, I mean when that happens, you better just pray to God and call on your ancestors to guide your soul to heaven cause boy you are in shit!!!

Of course my cousin panicked, well as of me, I’m just like “let me flex my legs cause there’s a 400m sprint today”. We quickly detour’d the goats out. Time passed and at about 17:00 when we had to take them back to the kraal, we heard our uncle calling us. I knew that something was not right. So we went to him and he asked us if we herd goats in the field, LOL, like nigga just whip us don’t go all Harvard Law School on us jeez cut us some slack yo. Well, blah blah blah, next thing I know, we are required to go pick the branches so he whips us. Yes, we needed to pick our own whips. That’s like blending your own poison to drink later, like running yourself over with a car. I picked the weakest, smallest, most fragile sprout from the nearest ka tree, I had a bigger plan. 

My cousin was up first, so my uncle went all berzerk on him and half way in, I decided to do the usual ritual. “Flight or fight? FLIIIGGGHHHTTTT” and with that, I threw the branch down and bolted off like a gazelle, running with my shirt flying behind my back like a kite, cutting through the air like a Porsche.

My cousin’s cries encouraged me to run as fast and far as possible. All I needed was a 3 seconds head start and I knew my uncle won’t catch up with me, fam I was flying like a Sparrow!!! He probably came after me but the dust I made perhaps just saved me from his wrath. I didn’t look back as I ran, I just wanted to get as far as possible. And long story short, I joined boxing classes later on. Just so I can stand there and do the ritual like, “flight or fight? Bring it on you little wrinkled uncle, let’s dance!! But yeah we never danced cause “respect”. 

My terrible dinner with a couple.

Do not go out with two people who are dating each other :(

So last night I picked up a call and my friend said "hey dude can we go out for dinner and a few drinks?" Nigga is full of jokes so I was not sure if he is serious kaa.

 

I was like, "Man why you gotta joke like this? Are you serious? Don't play like dis man, dude are you serious you know I'm hungry!!

 

 

 

he said, "dude I'm serious let's go out for drinks and food!!"

 

I'm like, "yeah sure bro no problem" but in my heart, "oh man these are the friends I need around me, look at God!"

 

 

 

So I drove my hungry self to the mall, as fast as possible, pumping Tate Buti's Mondalaye song,

 

 And ignoring all other incoming calls like: NOOOO!!! YOU CAN'T COME BETWEEN ME AND FOOD!!!

 

 

 

I got there and there was my friend, we did our thing like Pogba and Ander Herrera, gangster stuff, with a little cheeky dab. I was like, "who's this?", pointing at the little tiny yellow bone standing next to him.

'That's my girlfriend"

 

*there was a bit of silence*

 

In my heart I was like, "You guy, you brought me here to be a third wheel? So that I entertain you and your girl or what? I should start charging people for hanging with me!!!",

 

 

 

 

But because he is my friend, I was just like, "ow cool, hey there my name is Stefan, but you can call me Stef". I was trying to be really polite.

 

 

So we sat down and my goodness it was terrible for me, they kept feeding each other and cracking unfunny jokes that I had to laugh at to be polite enough. :(

 

But let me cut the long story short, the most terrible part was that the girl was super funny but the guy didn't really get the girl's jokes quick enough to laugh. I wanted to laugh but... I had to wait for the boyfriend to laugh first.

I clearly saw that the guy was not getting the jokes

 

 

 

So I waited some seconds for him to get the joke.

 

 

 

But he wasn't going to get the Joke!!!! so I had to freakin explain to him!!! Aaarrrgg

 

 

 

 

To be honest, I am never doing that to myself, ever again!!!

 

Also I am not sure if it was me explaining jokes that was a terrible thing for me or it was the "very peri" sauce I had on my chicken that was too chili, eew.

 

but if there is any friend who wants us to go for food and drinks, please let me know, I'm all about that. If you are going to bring your girl, arg I will be fine, as long as there is food, haha. Cheers.

Why I still maintain my innocence

Earlier today at the office, a piece of pork schnitzel that was wrapped in aluminum foil with a N$17:55 Pick n Pay price tag on it went missing from the common fridge. The description matched what the apparent owner's descriptions are. This is a piece of pork that I have not seen at all, I mean I haven't seen any schnitzel since August. As a matter of fact, I haven't been in that kitchen prior to speculations that there is a schnitzel piece that got mugged out of the fridge.

After rigorous speculations, which didn't involve me because I committed to finding a tooth pick to pick my clogged teeth, the evidence apparently pointed at me. This came as a very big surprise as I am a very good friend of the victim, the guy who previously owned the pork schnitzel is a very good friend of mine. We are even in the same whatsApp groups and we all start work at 08:00, that's how close of friends we are. Now to say that I, Stef took that pork is very very, VERY impolite.

I am just a little guy trying to live life, one day at a time.

In the absence of lawyers willing to represent me as I get interrogated in a whatsApp group, I wish to explain and bring forth facts, why I am innocent and not "guilty beyond reasonable doubt".


1. I am on a vegetarian diet this week.

one thing that these people failed to consider is that I am on a vegetarian diet this week. Not directly, more indirectly. You see, animals like Kudu and cattle are vegetarians, they only eat grass and veggies. Now for me, I don't want to compete with them so instead of me eating vegetables directly, I eat the animals that eat vegetables. This way, they still keep their food cause I won't eat them, nah uh. But I also get to benefit from the grass and all vegies, through the animals that eat them. Pigs only eat apples and milk, these are facts from Animal farm just in case ya'll don't believe me.


2. There was cake in the fridge (apparently)

Everyone knows that I love cake. I am like a cake addict. I probably eat more cake than the average person on their birthday. I eat more cake than a bride and groom on their wedding day. I eat cake when I am sad, when I am happy, when I am hurt, when I am in love, when I am late, when I am on diet, when I am broke, when I get money, when I am at home, at work, in my car, at the cinema, at funerals, at independence celebrations. I eat cake all the time that when I can't afford a slice of cake, I go eat fat cakes. Now to say that I could take a pork schnitzel out of a fridge and leave cake there, you must be out of your mind. You are joking.


3. I don't even love pork.

okay that's a lie, pffft. I love pork. but I DID NOT, take that one out of the fridge and throw the aluminum foil in the kaSmall bin in the office.


4. The evidence is not enough.

Apparently I am the only one who kept giggling and picking my teeth minutes after the schnitzel walked out of the fridge. But did you see me eat it? If we go to a doctor for an x-ray right now, will you see that pork in my tummy? Will you be able to stand in front of St. Paul and say that I ate the pork? Please.

5.

I can't think of more reasons. :(

let's just let it go. I seriously need to find a proper toothpick and also a glass of water, this oil is making me feel funny in my tummy.

Take all, just not my Coffee Mug!

So it is a very good Monday morning, I am in a suit and I smell like a basket of roses. The finest of them all. I've got my hair combed, this is not normal for me. My hairline is behaving and I am wearing my "hey ya'll what's good?" typa smile, I am electrified!  I am ready to take on this so called blue Monday and nothing can stop me. Everything I touch blows up like dynamite.

I made myself even more comfortable in the rotating chair, with my legs dangling half way to the floor. Haters gonna say I'm short, well I am not really short, everyone is just tall. So I pick my tasks and head off to the small cute kitchen in the office building. I smiled wide, I'm sure it was more of a really stupid grin when I saw the coffee machine. With my index finger, I pressed "ON" and holly molly the orgasmic feeling as its fans kicked in, that almost silent "bbbzzzzzz" as it carefully prepares the load of coffee beans to grind and churn the moment you press "COFFEE". Yaaayyy

So I headed back to my office which is just a few yards away from the kitchen, walking as if I am almost dancing across the hall way. My shoes making that "tap, tap" sound as I gentlemanly hop across the tiled floor. Trying hard not to slip. I arrived at my desk, searched it for my awesome coffee mug. And... it is not there. I thought, "Hmmm, perhaps I left it at the sink, let me go back to the kitchen", I often did that. So I head back to the kitchen, clicking my fingers and waving my arms, sending my suit in waves like a flag.

I got to the kitchen and screened it through my bifocal specs, there was no ways I was going to miss a thing in that small room. I saw the table cloths, I saw the glasses and cups, the stubborn spider on the wall, somehow it never dies even when we empty a doom can in that room, I swear that spider is immune to chemicals now. I searched once, twice, THRICE, FOURICE... Okay maybe fourice isn't a word. Point is, I searched for the FOURTH time and my coffee mug was nowhere to be found.

WHERE IS MY COFFEE MUG? Who would dare to take it in the first place? I made it clear the first day I got it that "YOU MAY TAKE ANYTHING, JUST NOT MY COFFEE MUG!!!!!"

My blood boiled, my face felt like ants walking on it as sweat started to form, my collars suddenly felt tighter around my neck and my lips started to tremble like I was playing a flute. I was on a 5 here, I could not afford to get to 10 but damn my coffee mug was gone. Just about three months after I got it, I never even dropped it, I never left it dirty, I never ever made it feel like it was not loved. But just like that, boom, it was no where to be found. GONE!!! But we all know the coffee mug can't grow tiny ceramic legs and walk away right?

Hol'up! Someone out there is having my coffee mug. Holding it hostage ready to use it. Probably not keeping it in a "cold and dry place" and I am here ready to chew coffee beans and gurgle hot water to make up for a missed cup of coffee? Naw man, it is not happening. I have to make the things that will even us up, possible.

I have to make sure that justice is delivered in this situation, if it means launching an operation "Find Pie's Coffee Mug", I shall do that! So first things first, I can't get coffee because someone out there cupnapped my coffee mug? Then no one at the office will have coffee. So I disconnected the coffee machine and pasted on it a note that read, "OUT OF ORDER"

I am sorry but when you take my coffee mug, you will just awaken my pettiness.

I walked back to my office with my head low, looking so broken, like a kid who just threw his last penny in the chocolate vendor machine, just to realize that the machine is switched off. I am hurt! After everything I have done to preserve that coffee mug, someone took it away from me.

I am getting a new coffee mug and this time, I am protecting it with my life. Touch it and get sniped! Pew pew, "Mayday mayday, we have a situation, the subject is seen heading for the kitchen with the absolutely fantastic coffee mug of Mr. PieMysterious, AKA Blue Short Pants, AKA Stef... get in formation!!

Much love ya'll, (Even for the Coffee Mug Thief). And My Aunt too.

Hearts

I can not lose my identity in trying to identify with you.

But little does that knowledge grant freedom to this heart. You enslaved me with your unapologetic stare, my inner voice hushed by your silence, yet your loud presence echoed in the distance, like a scorching sun it burned my soul to ashes. Have you noticed the scars we bear? The marks for ages to come, I saw them daily, when the days got dark, I started to feel them with trembling fear that I would never know what you meant when you said, "You understand."

Maybe the symbols we left to mark our space in this wide universe would have helped locate our true identities, but the dust settled and all I could see was space. Where you used to be, the vast void that speech could not fill. I got to feel like the world hates us as much, even our own voices stopped to echo back to us, space took them in but denied us a place called home. We lived for tomorrows that we never really got to reach. The future painted in what made it through the dust. I celebrated my nature to not be able to walk away. Now I hate my then abilities to not see through the crystal clear surface, as we walked on thin ice, unknowingly treading on enchanted land.

Past ghosts of uncertainty, haunting us and driving us to our farthest extremes, bullying us into believing that our destinies were stretched by unmatched patterns. The light at the end of the tunnel was blinding, the morning stars lifting the dark curtains over the darkened nights. Speech with it, it took away more than a day could build.

I saw your image, but I did not know you.

Wait, time sealed the misfortunes, bottled it up and threw it down the river. The tide carrying it down to places we left for good, for all it takes we will never go back. stretching over for the pebble heap, skidding over the stream, hoping they make it to the banks. The vast space of "what ifs", the discomfort in thinking of the worst that could happen. But I still plunged down, risking what was left, for what you never even told me. Swam when I could, not that I wanted to be a hero, to rescue your apparent brokenness, no... I did so because you were strong enough to rescue me in case I drowned in my own sorrow.

All that just to be eclipsed by the happiness we never dreamt of. Hold my hand.

Open letter to the Hard Pizza Maker :(

Pizza should be in any state. It can have so much salt, less cheese, stones, sand, whatever. It can be as bad as any disgruntled Chef can choose to make it. It will probably have a name that suits that state anyways.

There is only one state that makes pizza so bad, when pizza comes as hard as a stone. My goodness, what did I just have for lunch? That pizza from a famous pizza place in Windhoek was as hard as a plate tectonic. I swear I thought I was eating a little island. Like a piece of Seychelles or Mauritius.

You ever had to chew something so hard that you had to close your eyes and pray that your westerns do not implode? my human rights were painfully violated. I literally got a pizza that enslaved me for 38 minutes. Why didn't I return it? I don't know, I mean... I really don't know.

The amount of force my jaws had to exert on that pizza can most probably not even be calculated using any of Einstein's formulas. I am as tired as ever. N$79.55 wasted on a pizza that was harder than the rock that was inscribed with the 10 Commandments. I am inclined to think that they mined that pizza. I was hungry. Little did I know that ordering a pizza will in the end make me angry.

Here is an open letter to the place that made this pizza that was delivered to me.

Dear Hard Pizza Makers

I hope that this open letter catches you off guard while you try and deliver more hard pizzas to innocent people. Let me let you in on a secret, the pizza you made that poor guy deliver to me, on an outdated scooter for that matter, it was as hard as marble.

It took me 38 minutes to finish the first slice. 38 Minutes, do you know how long 38 minutes is? You don't, because you stay in that place and eat your puff chips and fruits while you send us pizza that could be used to renovate the old Parliament. Maybe if you made enough hard pizzas, it could be used to build us a new parliament so we don't have to waste 700million. Ya'll should decide whether you even want to make pizza or bricks.

I had to bite that pizza with as much force as you would need if you wanted to dethrone Robert Mugabe. just so you know, medical aid doesn't cover injuries to jaws caused by hard pizzas. I wasted my 79.55 Namibian dollars that I could have used to buy something more useful like airtime to call you and really scold you for that stone pizza that you made. You owe me consultation fees with my dentist you unreasonable brick layers.

I thought of laying charges against ya'll. Jaw breaking attempt. Shame on you. I am so done with ya'll. Every time from now onwards, when you send out a hard pizza to a loyal (and a little broke) customer like me, just know that you could be responsible for jaw surgery. If you read this letter up to now you hard pizza making little piece of cat poo, you should go sit in a corner and think of what you just did.

Without even the tiniest kind regards,

Mad loyal (and a little broke) customer.

Do not reply to this letter because I will be in a doctor's room getting my jaws fixed and from here I will see a Psychologist because I am traumatized from how hard that pizza was.

You've got to learn how to keep up with Women.

Nothing is more awkward than sending a text that reads, "I am at this other erotic place", when it should have read "exotic place". Worse is when you send it to your crush and now she thinks you are definitely a night wanker. Disappointments. I do not like smart phones at all. You know what else is smart but will give you chest pains? Women. Yes that was not a typing error.

Women are very smart and that is the problem that we men will always face. They think ahead, they read between the lines and they know what you are going to say before you even say it.

Women don't ask to get answers, they ask so they confirm what they already know, women don't look for you, they come fetch you from where you are

You disagree with what I just said? It is okay! Isokaaaay!!! I can't believe you people believe in things like Santa Claus and the 4 leaf clover but you may not believe reality. This is reality!

A typical conversation on the phone with a woman will go like, now let us assume these two just recently met.

Him: Hey, did you get your hair done then? You told me about it yesterday.

Her: Oh yeah, I did.

Him: Send me a pic, let me see.

Her: My eyebrows are not done yet I look horrible.

Him: Oh no it is not always about your looks, it is about your heart... I mean...

Her: Huh? Wait, you want to see my titties already??

Him: No I said your heart not your...

Her: I thought you were different.

Him: No you don't understand I did not mean your titties. I meant your heart.

Her: So you are saying you don't want to see my boobies then?

Him: Uhm...

Her: Okay fine, go see the boobies you are used to.

him: No come on let me explain, I meant... *beep, beep, beep*

That phone was cut and he probably will not even believe what just happened, because he could not keep up. Women will have you on your toe tips.

A good guy will probably text her. I mean, we are that gentlemanly. We like to show affection. We like to be kind because that's life. Who wants to be rude to a woman? You must be out of your mind, in fact you must be walking around with an empty skull. Even a dead mind would know better. So let us say he brings out his soft side and text her.

Him: :) I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you.

Her: Talk to you later, I can't use my phone.

Him: Why? Where are you?

Her: At the hospital.

Him: For what?

Her: For these chest pains that you caused me.

Him: Oh no C'mon now don't do this.

Her: I will block you if you keep insisting.

*4 minute silence*

Her: John?

Her: John?? Are you ignoring me?

Her: John please talk to me.

Her: :( You are a fuckboy.

Him: No I am not. :(

Her: Why are you denying it? Why you catching? People only catch if what is being said is true.

Him: *switches phone off, destroy sim card, sells phone, buys ticket to India, start farming with cows*

She was probably a handful but hey, ya'll men out there with girlfriends and wives, nothing is more beautiful than having to understand your lady despite what she makes you go through. Women are fragile too so be a gentleman because if you get tired sooner than she can choose to hug you and whisper sweet "somethings" to you, it could all blow up.

John could not keep up. He can continue holding his L.