Tony Oga or Tony Ogwa?

For Tony Ogwa, the only copywriter from Bosongo (and this is just a lie to boost his ego).

Haya, it has been a tough week. Mnirushie za kuenda Quiver kuiva. It’s a Friday, sherehe must sherehe.

Tony has written about me twice to massage my ego.

He gave me two insurances to say, “Mama, I made it.”

He seemed to have removed the two stories from his portfolio, and so I can’t find them to provide you with substantial and overwhelming evidence. And for that, I say an arrogant, “Sorry baas.”

A few things you should know about Tony.

We first met in Kisii.

He’s a dope copywriter (Ads za TV na Radio, Billboards, and sometimes, a Chat GPT assisted text to his former caretaker/campus sweetheart, Bosibori).

He got me a writing gig pre-COVID 19. Writing sheng’ articles for a certain blog. I was happy sana.

He holds grudges. Once, we assembled somewhere in an undisclosed location, cooked above comrade-friendly food, talked writing, books, and life in campus, and I served them well, and added juice ya kuteremsha. The boy complained that I served Larry (a mutual friend in our midst) more food than him. He has never healed from that traumatic experience.

While I have moved on, in a few occasions, I promised to make it up to him, but I do not think I ever will. He is still waiting for that day. Bwana Tony, if you are reading this, I’d like to inform you that that will never happen. Thank you.

He went to Oriwo Boys. He probably never got a chance to talk to those babes from Asumbi Girls. But he’s a writer, so I know he probably might have written a few letters here and there, dedicating Tony Nyadundo’s tunes to some Kipsigis babe, hoping to one day win her heart. He probably never won any heart(s). And that’s okay. I never did too. But this is not about me, please.

You cannot watch a movie/series with Tony.

He will pause, google the cast, the directors, producers, even makeup artists. He will read, listen, and watch everything about them. Watch other movies by these casts/directors/producers as if he is preparing to defend a thesis. Tony thinks he understands film more than the people who created it. And I dislike him for that. He has a way of criticizing films that unahurumia the producers. And he is so good at it so much so that I like him for that.

Tony does not call me anymore (I also do not, and have never called him, but this is not about me). How dare he?

I learned, from his status, that he made a trip to Bosongo (or so it appears). The details are scanty.

Apparently, he has been mocking us, wondering if emails are finding us well. Well, Tony, the emails are not finding us well. He thinks that going for a ‘vacay,’ as he calls it, in shagz, is something to brag about. He is right. But how dare he?

Upon arrival, a bunch of kids were lined up in front of their home because ‘Ankoo’ was around. He had not gotten them sweets as he had promised to do so the last time he was in the village.

Of course, the pressure is boiling. Where is his wife and kids, the kinfolk wants to know. He does not have an answer, just the same way he does not have an answer to why his Computer Science Degree is not in use. He gave villagers a hard time, walking around with a chain made of computer parts, crisscrossing every boma with a Bluetooth Dewise, playing Duke Ellington. He’d do this during long holidays, and the village-mates would be amused. Parents advised their kids to be like Tony, a role model. He was, and still is, a smart kid. I am calling him a kid because he was born the other day. Someone who does not know to peel marabuoni is a kid. Someone who has never eaten misheveve/mreda is just but a toddler. And lastly, someone who considers Gengetone classic/old school music, is, and you have guessed it right, a kid. Tony, is a kid.

His family is wondering why he is not doing some code. Maybe even repair a broken laptop. Install a VPN. Something that screams computer science And I know, at this time, you might have got a glimpse that I do not know what a Computer Science degree holder does for work. But you have to understand, I need to write something.

Wewe just know, Tony wants to do creative stuff. And he does them well. He writes well. even directs a film well. Kijana mchapa kazi. He pretends to go to the office to do work, but I know, and this is a secret he hides under his nose, he is a fraud. He goes there for the snacks. Then wakes up in the middle of the night, calls his boss, who could be anyone really (He does not have one job, this one), and share the revelation. The two will jump on a quick call, their tiny heads appearing on each other’s screens due to the illumination from their devices (and the darkness) and create a campaign that will bring the company millions, and pay them just enough to pay rent, two rolls of tissue, and a new bucket hat. He will then take three days off, lying that he’s in a creative block, and disappear to events around Nairobi, where he makes sure he hangs out with two of his favorite friends (the only ones), Amanda and Frank. To be honest, they hang out a lot. I’d like to let the two know that they have stolen a friend from me, and I wonder, am I not doing enough? Tony should know, I am ready to do anything to win back his heart. In fact, I can take the next bus to Bosongo, with a hot-pot full of round chapatis. Abehave by the way.

And, because it is important to say this, Tony’s compliments are short and to the point.

And repetitive.

“This event is amazing.”

“What you have done for us is great.”

“This is the best thing you have ever written.”

Just those three.

I thank him for his friendship.

I thank you for reading.