MERU DAILY

Men Enjoying Keg Beer at a local joint in Kenya. Photo/getty images. They say I’m petty. And honestly, they’re not lying. I’m proudly petty. The kind of petty that will cancel you faster than an expired Mpesa loan limit. I won’t return to a cheating ex even if she reappears with a choir and a PowerPoint. And I sure as hell won’t keep giving my money to a business that treats me like a nuisance instead of a valued client. Unless, of course, you’re selling tickets to heaven. Then we can talk. Now, I usually write about life—mine, yours, and that of random strangers I meet on these Meru streets. Some stories come soaked in emotion, others in satire. This one? This one is drenched in cheap beer, petty drama, and my own wounded pride. Makutano Nights & Local Church Vibes Let’s begin with a confession. I enjoy the occasional drink. Not the daily-down-your-sorrows kind, but the kind that says, “I survived today, let’s toast.” You can’t even blame me. My folks named me Kinyua, which in Mer...