Patrick Ambani

Ordinary Mind And I; It has always been a battlefield!

August 17, 2014 Ordinary Mind Wrote: Made In Kisumu

My girlfriend just sits there,
After a night of sweaty sex,she stretches her hands and asks me for fare,
She also asks me to give her money to go make her hair,
She also wants money to go buy new clothes,
She want to look like the American blonde,
She will spend the whole day in the salon,
Gossiping about cheating men and the latest fashion,
Look at her bulging ass,they look like two balloons.

My girlfriend does not like to cook,
She does not want to spoil her beautiful nails,she just want to smell fresh and look good,
She will take selfies and post on Facebook,
And update her status, ”Who will take me out for lunch,Lol, how do I look.?”

My girlfriend likes eating out in the famous joint,
Fried fish and chips in Lake resort,cold tusker at Hippo point,
If I suggest to her,”A girl baby,let us go cook at home.”
She will call her mother and cry on the phone.

My girlfriend keeps records of wrong doings, and revenge,
Sometimes in bed,she acts so strange,
She tells me,”You can do with me anything you want,
But don’t remove my pant,
If you are not satisfied, you can go ahead and lick your own cunt.”
Seriously,I’m your boyfriend,do I have to choose?
”What kind of a man just likes sex and does not buy his girlfriend new pair of shoes?”

My girlfriend lazies around on the verandah,nursing hangover,
She does not know that if a man is lazy,poverty will knock on his door like an armed robber,
My girlfriend has no benefits,
She is like a business that does not make profits,
It is better to remain single,
With a dry and scaly testicle,
Than live with this bitter lemon,
Her tongue poisons like a snake’s venom.

Then I wrote ‘Made In Nyeri’ in response;

My boyfriend just sits there curling the hair on his chest
After a night of sweaty sex,what sex?!
all I recall was dry and scaly testicles dancing excitedly like child in a candy store,
before I closed and opened my eyes
his penis had pricked my vagina,all the way to my throat
in and out,in and out,mostly in and in,
I stared at the roof to kill time,
In my head I took loan from Equity bank, boarded Kampala bus
traveled to Busia,bought and sold,build house…
all this while He was on top of me crying a river,
“Oh jesu, Oh jesu…am on my way…take me…here I come…am coming…”
His face looking like a huge one eyed monkey with a lose tongue,
then he collapsed next me,
did I curl my toes,did I scream the house down to let my neighbors know that my thighs had been visited by the messenger of pleasure? No!
My aching and greasy thighs froze in mid air,
my beautiful hair- The receipt in my bag says its my hair- turned ‘ngima’,
I blame him for insisting on flipping me in bed like chapati.

My Boyfriend insists on my cooking,
I will not cook!
maize and beans everyday, am I ‘posho’ mill?
for your information no doctor has banned me from eating rice and beef,
neither has he exempted me from drowning myself in bubbly drinks with french and Italian names,
so no,I will not prepare tea with the hint of milk you bring.

My boyfriend pretends not to remember,
he laments that I take him hostage in bed just when he wants to plant his erect tree,
I simply asked him a question, ” A baby boy, why you not buy me shoes I asked for yesterday?”
He does not want to remember those days when he chased me across town,
with my ripe buttocks
with my child bearing hips and pencil sharp breast,
I walked like a cat that lives in the butchery with my High Heels
now He cant even buy me those cheap condom shoes.

My boyfriend has the effrontery to conclude that poverty will knock on my door like an armed robber,
but are you not the armed robber sent by poverty to finish me,
are you not working with poverty to direct my breast south!
has poverty not provoked you to declare on face book that your are my boyfriend,denying me chance in the love market,
just when Ouru’s son Jomo, had invited me to play candy crush,
the gods will punish you!

Now you call me a business with no profit,
What of you who hangs pictures of naked mariah carey on your muddy wall,
if you take Naked Mariah Carey Pictures to the bank to ask for loan,
will the bank give you money? No!
why? your dreams are not valid!
it is better to remain single
with bandaged thighs
than to live with this bitter lemon
His tongues poison is worse than snake’s venom,
doctors told me so.


On September 18, 2014 Ordinary Mind wrote :Through The Tears

I know I started reasoning with my manhood instead of my brain,
When I let all that I had built for years go down the drain,
Dear ‘mpango wa kando’,before a word you say,
Know that the same sun that melts wax also hardens clay!

I just met you the other day,
But we have done more than I did in may years,
With my wife who is now drenched in tears!
I must admit in your charm I overdosed,
But I never kept my two eyes completely closed!
I could see how our affair took a great toll om my wife!

Whenever we met in expensive hotels,Through the shiny forks and glass plates,
I could see my wife feeding the children and covering my meal,
I could see her coming out of the shower and putting on her night dress,
I could see her checking the clock and getting worried,her heart racing fast,
I could see drops of tears dripping from the corners of her eyes and soaking the pillow that she held tightly on,
When the clock ticked past midnight!

Whenever we went for picnics and kissed by the waterfall,
Through the reflection of the crystal clear waters,
I could see her picking the children from school,
I could see her making tea and poring mine in the thermos flask,
I could see her trying to reach me over the phone,
I could see tears swelling in her eyes when she watched the tea getting cold inside the flask!

Dear ‘mpango wa kando’,
Whenever we were together,
I never kept my eyes completely closed,
Whenever we spent the night at your place,
Through your face that shone bright after a night of steamy sex,
I could see her applying for a loan to pay our house rent,
I could see her getting our children new pair of shoes,
I could see her passing by the supermarket to get my favourite body spray,
I could see her placing the cologne beside the bed,hoping I come home soon,
I could see her hugging my picture!

Dear ‘mpango wa kando’.I can’t continue to see you anymore,
I’m going back to my wife,
Prevention is better than cure,
I’m going back to she whose love is pure,
She who has stood by me through thick and thin,
Righteousness and sin,
She who is taking care of my kids,
You are just but a passing wind,
Which brings with it heavy clouds that never bring rain!
Through the tears in my wife’s eyes,
I could see the love inside her heart!

I had to say something; Through Her Tears

She called me last night,
she told me to listen to you, I did.
you cupped her breasts,
you carved her hips with your hands,
stamped your lips on her flesh,
you flipped her this way and that way,
this way and that way!
you blessed her thighs with your plunge-Again and Again,
your manhood alive for her-Inside Her.
I heard you growl hungrily,
I heard her cheer for you,
I heard the both of you ignite a fire.
sitting numb on our bed,
I held tightly your pillow,
wishing to be her-the other woman.

I saw her with you,
she is a sight to behold,
her dress draws a perfect rear,
her breasts perky and ripe,
and her legs tower unmatched,graced by her red heels,
pretty, just like me before today,
with my missing waist,
south bound breasts,
me, with my nursery of brown hair once long and silky
and storky kikuyu legs.

I went out today,
walking in town I saw you at the Norfolk,
fighting with shiny forks,
her red lip stick painting the edges of those shinny glasses,
you too looked happy,
her manicured nails have never played with soil,
I could tell from her delicate palms-She has never scrubbed your jeans
I twisted the wedding band on my cracked finger,
wishing to be just like her.

My Love, I will try,
I have bought red bra and red underwear
I have sucked in my rolls of stomach,
you will find me lying on the bed
my buttocks will be on the air,
my wig will flow to my breast,
just like the girls in the music videos,
I beg you to take me,
to love me,
to own me,
to growl on me,like you do her.

And you woman,
do not be fooled,
there was a time, before I screamed forth a generation from my womb,
when my breasts saluted the world,
my hips run softly with no edge,
and the well between my thighs …and the well between my thighs…
fresh spring it was,fit to size…my husband’s size,
I have nothing to show save for the laughter in my house,
when you call me mother, I stand with with pride,
when you call me wife,my heart will bleed but I will stand tall to be counted,
the round metal strangling my finger,
invites me to remind you,
He may plant his flesh in you,
He may wine and dine you,
He may sing for you,
but a day comes when he will write you off in a note,

“Dear ‘mpango wa kando’.I can’t continue to see you anymore,
I’m going back to my wife,
Prevention is better than cure,
I’m going back to she whose love is pure,
She who has stood by me through thick and thin,
Righteousness and sin,
She who is taking care of my kids,
You are just but a passing wind,
Which brings with it heavy clouds that never bring rain!
Through the tears in my wife’s eyes,
I could see the love inside her heart”

you wait


On September 18, still He wrote: They Disappeared

When my monthly flow stopped flowing,
Onyango’s eyes stopped glowing,
He stopped texting and calling,
In fact,he disappeared into the thin air!

When my periods stopped,
Mwangi’s jaws dropped,
He chased me away when I went to see him where he works at the bank,
He said he doesn’t know what I’m talking about,may be I’m drunk!

When I missed my periods,
Even the weak Kipruto staged a rebellion,
That even though he’s not learned and can’t read a medical report,
I can’t lure him into child support,
That he is even ready to go to court!

When I told Kilonzo that I’m expecting his child,
He changed all of a sudden and became wild,
He told me he is not that stupid,
And his,”I love you” words changed to,”I never loved you,I don’t even believe in cupid.”

When I told Hassan that I’m expectant,
He laughed me off and said only thick-headed girls get pregnant,
So I either go back to my boyfriend Maurice,
Or he shall call the police!

When Wetangula got wind of my pregnancy propaganda,
He deleted my number and went back to Bumala,
I hear he got a village girlfriend and he has promised her lots of ‘chips’ and Coca cola,
The same things he promised me while he was riding me like a ‘boda boda’!

When I told Christopher that the baby I’m carrying is his,
He told me,”Give me a break please.”
So I was rejected by the same men who told me they cared,
But when I lied to them that I’m pregnant,they all disappeared!!


and I told Him: You Disappeared

When my monthly flow stopped flowing,
my breast rose and fell to the tunes of my racing heart,
standing outside my mother’s hut in Mukurweini,
I faced the mountain with new pride,
my head held high,
I commanded the sun to bless me,
I had life within me-inside me.
I was god.

On that day- when red disappeared,
standing in front of the metal basin
I watched my dancing reflection with awe,
I poked out my stomach and twirled round and round,
my pink dress flew up to my thighs again
just like the first time, when you twirled me round and round
as we danced the night away at ‘To go is to see bed and breakfast’
bed I was,Breakfast-He fed on me.

On that day,
clutching your writing on my hand,
I hopped, skipped and jumped to the market place,
pausing momentarily to caress my pot of life,
I did not want to fall like the Mexican women on TV, weak!
not me,

“I can carry man,
I can carry pot
I can carry firewood,
I Will carry baby”

On that day,
I stood in line waiting for my turn to call,
I wrote and deleted sentences in my head,

“Ordinary Mind Darling you are going to be a father…
Sweetheart am with child…
Baby the messiah cometh, finally the mountain and lake will agree…
Baby how is the weather…
Omera baby you remember that night…”

On that fateful day,
I listened to you
you, who rode me like boda boda,
you, whose rivers flooded me with life, hurl

“‘I never loved you,I don’t even believe in cupid.”
only thick-headed girls get pregnant
Give me a break please.”

Tears fell from my eyes but I did not cry,
Your rejection killed my knees,
I crawled from the telephone booth,
like a mad woman I run back home,
yanked your picture from my wall,
tore up your ugly pink dress,
I made a fire-I watched you burn
It was then That I cried.

But that was then,
Today I do not walk,
your son-My son,
has grown up to my nose,
When He comes,
I will call him Kiai,
and if ever he asks of you,
I will feign tears and recite of how you died,
you were minced by a Caterpillar tractor at Thika Road.

On September 27, 2014 He wrote : One Night Stand

Sorry, I can’t be your boyfriend,
Because I have a loving loyal girlfriend,
But I want to sleep with you, just like I did with Chebet,
The one who played hard to get,
Now I’m the one who is hard to get for real,
She only sees me in her dream.

I want to sleep with you, just like I did with Atieno,
The one who was at first cold as snow,
But I ignited a fire that thawed her heart,
Now she’s nursing a broken heart,
While I’m unwinding with my girlfriend inside my notorious hut.

I want to sleep with you, just like I did with Wambui Catherine,
The one I met at the high profile social gathering,
She told me I’m not of her class,
Now she’s crying over spilled milk and a broken glass.

I want to sleep with you, just like I did with Mwende, girlfriend to Tonny,
The one who told me I will never have her, over her dead body,
Well, she’s still alive, and inside her I have my signature,
Funny she uploaded my photo as her profile picture.

I want to sleep with you just like I did with Amina, my girlfriend’s best friend forever,
The one who called me a dreamer, how can I even think of us together,
But when we were doing it she asked for a glass of water to stop the hiccup,
Interesting how she threw away her hijab.

I want to sleep with you just like I did with Ntolela
The beautiful Maasai who told me a big NO and even refused to give me her number,
Now she’s flooding my inbox with love messages,
But I only care about my love, the one I truly feel,
I love you my darling

I caught a feeling a shot back : Dear Mr. Ordinary Mind

Oh yea mighty warrior from the west,
I hear you stand tall outside your notorious hut
naked, patting your penis for all to see your dangling flesh,

am told you sing only of victory,

“Look at my Penis, a god!
blessed with might to poke vagina’s here and vagina’s there,
have you not heard of my throbbing fame,
No Hymen I cannot break,No vagina I cannot tame,
My Penis breaks beds, hearts and life!
packed with blood I tower,
on a quiet night, the dog howls in my honor,
look at my Penis, a god”

Mighty Warrior with the renowned Penis,
Grant me leave to bow so close,
to your wet pencil,honor me
with its presence,
to adore your precious stem,
I may not be worthy,
my vagina is old and dry-not fit for your consumption,
do not dismiss me from its sight,
allow me a story, to pamper your punishing meat.

“There was a young man in our village,
with a Mugumo Penis,
every day before the cock sang,
he would stand outside his hut-notorious hut,
and count;
Chebet,eaten! Atieno,ripped! Wambui Catherine,done!

No one knows what happened,
some say Amina took His Instruction literally when He commanded her
to ‘chew’ away,
other version claim ‘nylon disease’ had found a home in him,
but one day while walking proud on the streets of erodoreti,
He experienced a sudden urge to spill salt- A golden opportunity to show off his king to the town girls…

I do not remember the details but,
there was a deathly scream,
a withered penis rolling fast on the ‘Erodoreti’ streets,
and hungry dogs racing after the rolling Penis”

End of Story.


Chei! may god help us all.


You can find Ordinary mind on Facebook.

Somebody of Picture: Patrick Ambani




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