MERU DAILY

A Photo of a Young lady working remotely online. Photo/Getty Images. Meru elders once dropped a gem that goes, “Ukitega mtego wa kimû, hautashika mmoja tu.” Translation? If you set a trap for a mole, don’t be shocked when a whole family reunion falls in. Case in point? Bilbo. You remember Bilbo, right? That backstreet keg-joint heroine I wrote about? Yes, that Bilbo. Well, turns out the blog did what blogs do best—it traveled. Wide. Even Bilbo’s radar picked it up. She read it. And ladies and gentlemen, the Afrocinema continues… Scene 1: A Decent Drinking Spot (For Once) Last week, I linked up with an old friend. You know, one of those responsible human beings who still believe in cutlery and chairs that don't creak with tetanus. They convinced me to ditch the swampy keg den for a "decent" establishment. So there I was, mentally adjusting to functioning restrooms and walls with actual paint. Just as we were strutting in—clean shoes and all—guess who spotted me like...

Men Enjoying Keg at a local joint. Photo/Daily Nation. Ladies and gentlemen, gather around—grab your favorite bottle of Jug Daniels (you know, that backstreet version of Jack Daniel’s with a suspicious aftertaste of rusty taps and broken dreams). I have something to confess, and I say this with the weight of a thousand heartbreaks and one very bruised ego: I have come to the rock-solid conclusion that I will never understand women. Now, a wise (read: wildly intoxicated) friend once whispered a golden nugget into my confused soul: “If you want to win a lady over… lie to her. Lie like your romantic future depends on it.” I scoffed. “Surely, not all women fall for lies?” I thought to myself, still clutching onto truth like it was a university degree I paid full HELB price for. But curiosity—and loneliness—are dangerous companions. So one day, I gave in. The Pre-Lie Era: Where Honesty Got Me Nothing But Solitude Before embracing my new life as a charming fibber, I was what you'd call a...