MERU DAILY

Shosh Sarah Mpinda Nkubitu. Photo/Samuel Kaimenyi-Facebook. My dearest readers, today I take a short commercial break from my usual storytelling chaos to pay tribute to a very special woman — my grandmother, the legendary Shosh Sarah Mpinda Nkubitu. This week, I received the heartbreaking news of her passing. For days, I disappeared indoors like a politician after losing elections — no calls, no jokes, no social life, just me, memories, and occasional dramatic sighs while staring at the ceiling. But now that I’ve slowly accepted the reality, I feel compelled to tell you about the Shosh I knew. You see, I spent most of my infancy with my grandmother from the age of zero to almost six years old. In fact, at that tender age, I genuinely believed I was Shosh’s lastborn child. Why? Because she was all I knew. The woman practically raised me with one hand while carrying firewood with the other. And from her, I learned the purest form of love — unconditional love. The kind of love where someo...

  G-Maggie, The only man in Meru whose mask causes more panic than fuel prices. Photo/G-Maggie, Facebook.  Hello my good people and die-hard readers. And for Arsenal fans… salamu ni tofauti kabisa. I hope mko “Budapest” watu wangu wa Arsenali. Stay strong, brighter days are loading… maybe. Now, this post is not about football. This one is about three men, one mask, one keyboard, and enough Facebook drama to qualify for a Netflix documentary. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the latest episode of “Meru Online Wars.” This past week, Meru Facebook groups have been hotter than tea at a chama meeting. The battlefield? A three-way online wrestling match featuring: G-Maggie Wa Meru — masked boda boda rider, activist, and Meru’s unofficial Batman. Ken Wesley — blogger, commentator, and part-time online FBI investigator. Rafiki Wa Stima Untamed — motivational speaker for chaos and supplier of mysterious threats. The Man Behind The Mask At the center of the storm is G-Maggie, the now-fa...

Meru Team displays their trophy after winning the Aquadel Sponsored Pool Tournament at Aquadel’s Carwash and Auto Spa. Photo/Felix Kinyua. Happy Labour Day weekend, dear readers. I won’t insult you by asking how your weekend was—because, frankly, it probably wasn’t anywhere near mine. And now that the hangover has respectfully vacated your system, allow me to explain why. After what felt like a national waiting period (kuwachocha for centuries), Aquadel’s Pool Table Tournament finally happened. And if you missed it—my friend—today will be a difficult day for you. Not because of anything you did, but because of everything you didn’t experience. You see, Aquadel events are like petrol in today’s economy—rare, valuable, and when they show up, everybody scrambles. The Arrival Pool lovers casually chill as they wait for the tournament to begin. Photo/Felix Kinyua. I pulled up at Aquadel’s Carwash and Auto Spa slightly past 5 PM, thinking I was fashionably late. Rookie mistake. The place was...