MERU DAILY

A picture a man holding Kenyan Bank Notes. Photo/Getty images Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, tushosh na tuguka! Gather around because there’s a new trend shaking the dating streets like a boda boda on a rocky road. It’s called Talking Stage Billing , and it’s turning first dates into financial transactions faster than you can say "babe, send me fare." Now, I wouldn’t be telling you this if I hadn’t experienced it firsthand. Multiple times. In fact, at this point, I should probably start an online support group for victims. Picture this: You meet a beautiful lady, and things seem to be going well—laughter, flirtation, maybe even a little romantic tension. Then, like clockwork, the conversation takes a sharp left turn: “ Babe, can you send me fare?” Or worse, “ Hey, I need to do my nails, you got me ?” Before you can even process what just happened, you're being hit with requests for salon money, Uber fare, and some suspicious "emergency" that needs urgent ...

  Former Public Service Cabinet Secretary Justin Muturi. PHOTO/Nation Kenyan politics is a high-stakes kitchen, where loyalty is the main ingredient and speaking your mind can get you burned. For former Public Service Cabinet Secretary Justin Muturi, his goose wasn’t just cooked—it was roasted, basted, and plated the moment he dared to speak out against the government’s handling of the Gen Z protests and the disturbing wave of abductions targeting young activists. Muturi, a political heavyweight with decades of experience, must have known that going public about his son Leslie Muturi’s abduction was like poking a beehive with a short stick. But perhaps he believed his long-standing service in government—spanning from his days as National Assembly Speaker to his various ministerial roles—would shield him from political retribution. Well, as it turns out, even seasoned politicians can miscalculate. Ruto’s “Incompetent” Verdict: The Kiss of Death President William Ruto didn’t waste ti...

  Images of Children holding gifts. PHOTO/Getty Images Scrolling through TikTok the other day, I stumbled upon a challenge that made me drop my phone, rub my eyes, and pick it up again just to be sure I wasn’t hallucinating. The challenge? "The Useless Thing I Got My Baby." Now, before you imagine mothers unwrapping pointless baby gifts, let me clarify—the "useless thing" in question is none other than absentee or deadbeat dads. Yes, you read that right. Single moms are roasting the fathers of their children with ruthless precision, exposing them in viral videos. And just when you think it can't get worse, you realize some of these deadbeat dads aren’t just one-time offenders—they appear in multiple videos by different women. It’s like they’re running a franchise of fatherlessness. Imagine a guy minding his business, scrolling through TikTok, only to see himself trending as the "useless thing" in five different baby mamas’ posts. Yikes. This got me...

Former Meru Governor, Kawira Mwangaza. PHOTO/Citizen Digital If Meru politics were a movie, it would be a thriller—full of suspense, unexpected plot twists, and characters who seem to stumble into power rather than walk into it. And now, we find ourselves at yet another climax: Governor Kawira Mwangaza’s political downfall and the rise of the man with the clerical collar, Governor Mutuma M’tointhikia. The Fall of ‘Mwangaza’—Too Bright to Last? Kawira Mwangaza came into office like a hurricane—loud, confident, and ready to sweep away the so-called corrupt practices of her predecessors. Armed with blackboards and Manila papers, she crisscrossed Meru, pointing fingers, naming names, and promising a governance revolution. But there’s a thin line between confidence and arrogance, and unfortunately for her, she tripped over it. Drunk on power (or something stronger), she quickly alienated the very people she needed most— the MCAs, political allies, and even her voters. The High Court ru...