Back in the day

DJ Rico with DJ Big J doing their thing

Remember the ol days?Young and stuck on 200miles per hour. Weekends started on Wednesday, latest Thursday,Big J and Rico holding it down at FX,Suzy with a Canon,Kodaking all the moments, from the insane to the glorious..remember how dudes leaned on the wall in the middle of the club, trying to chat up skirts, Pilsner bottle in the left-hand,holding our crotch with the right? I had this grayish baggy shirt with 'hip-hop' neatly printed on it, some shiny blue jeans and bright brown caterpillar boots with an occasional red bandana to keep my outfit together. I was cute,wasn't I?Pizza at Narodni Trida 'round 3AM 'fore catching 51 home. I won't tell you about the time,high as a paper-kite, I stopped a police squad car on patrol thinking it was a cab! Before Ralphael became Ralph,he was Ralph Styles and right b4 that, he was MC and even earlier than that he was 2Ruff...how many names did this dude have? Kingpin was Fridays and MC with his sidekick DJ BlackJesus hosted. If you weren't in Kingpin, you were at the other end of the tramlines, Bila Hora;small,smoky place but packed like a motha, coz you know Henry D or as he is popularly known today, Henry BiggDawg was in the house and Steve Kimani was spinning a mixture of Reggae,Soukous and for lack of a better term, Bohemian...

DJ Iceman with Victoria during an album launch

Brian had this neat idea to booze us back into the stone age;he was generous with his booze and we tried our best to be grateful by constantly showing up at his joint thirsty. Soon enough, we found out that the colorless liquid in his glass was actually mineral water and not vodka like we thought. You gotta be really out of this world to cheat at drinking. For those who used to stay in Strahov at the time, didn't you just love it when you got your drunken ass to Malovanka and there was no taxi to take you up the hill? Or if there was, the cabby would try to milk a 100CZK out of you for the short ride to the hostel? For those who are still wondering about apples in my room,l'll let you in on the secret. I used to pluck them from this tree just off the bus stop at Malovanka. Ask Shady...
DJ Ama was the man to visit if you wanted to listen to some good old reggae jams. Vagon, was the place. DJ Ama or 12Play to his earlier fans, with his constant bottle of Juice(that particularly tickled me to no end - I took to noting down which brand he had each week), a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth did us proud. I can't remember when he used to play though, all I know is that Vagon was enticingly dimly lit and they kept changing the DJ Booth.

Hahaha...DJ 2ruff..this vest...no comment

Henry D with United Flavour

DJ KazD was the dance-hall,Rhumba, soukous specialist. The first time I remember him playing was at this club in Mustek just inside the metro station. I can't remember the name off the top of my head but it was great while it lasted. Of course soon enough, he was hosting gigs in Abaton and Tropison. He still up to date owes me Koffi Olomide's "Loi". I have been asking him for over 6 years to play for me that song and its always "next time,dude". 


Saturday was a different kettle of fish all together. You were either in Bila Hora, Kingpin, FX, Kalrovy Lazne or in all 4 places in the course of the night. If you were in K.L, you were likely to run into Ice-man with the beautiful Victoria...shh..I used to have a crash on her. Iceman was spinning and Victoria was singing. Ralph and BlackJesus rounded up the quartet with the occasional guest DJ showing up. Is KL still 4 floors? That was real nice,you chat up a girl on the ground floor (hip-hop/rap) and whisk her away to the chill-out lounge on the 4th floor to get to know each other some more. OK guys, don't kill me, the statue of limitations has passed, and I won't name names,HA! But soon enough, with more people coming in for hiphop and mimicking our business-model, our market-share on the ground floor soon dwindled and like any good thigh-monger, you learn pretty quickly to look for other life opportunities on the other floors...you know; Metalica and HardRock Music. Have you ever seen a brother trying to dance to hard rock? That's a sorry sight yo...

B-Jesus back in the day. Wasn't he innocent?

KazD

Leaving the club, you had to pass by those folks on Vaclavske Namesti selling Klobasa and hot dogs while you wait for your tram or metro. Heavens knows the many stomach pains I suffered as a result of those. All in all, it was a good time, an innocent time in our otherwise young lives, where we swore by Tupac and bumped our heads to Biggie smalls, threw our hands up in the air to Naughty by Nature and our idea of a TLC was actually listening to TLC. Those were the days,when discretion was the password and if your picture was taken, it wouldn't wind up on Facebook or Youtube - We thought we would remain young forever(sigh). Right now, whenever I find myself in the club, good music is far in between...wistful of those days..someone needs to organize a real old school hip hop night in Prague, we would be better for it...
Disclaimer: The pictures here are courtesy of Sussane Bitter.

Some Kenyans are...well...crazy (for lack of a better term)

Hello folks,

I have noticed that the minutes of the last meeting haven't been put online yet. No need to panic, I have come to the rescue. I have taken a personal...what's the right word?...privilege...yes! Allow me this privilege to give you my not so humble and unofficial minutes during our last meeting. This is not unprecedented. I mean even the President of the United States,His Highness Barack Obama from K'Ogelo has a constitutional duty under Article II, section 3 of the United States constitution  which in part reads "He shall from time to time give to the Congress information of the State of the Union  and recommend to their consideration such measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient." There is nothing necessary or expedient about any of the information am about to give, but I shall from time to time consider you the recipient of my occasional drunken soliloquies. OK now that we have dispensed with the hows and whys, lets get right down to it, shall we?

I arrived at the meeting a little bit late, as always, but you aren't going to hold that against me,right? I am Kenyan prosim te and lateness is a science we have turned into an art...plus my coffee from that morning was yet to kick in,making me very sluggish. The place was right next to George's..just a few blocks to the left,push open a squeaky door and you get yourself into a sparingly lit Mexican restaurant playing soft Mariachi. Some guest we had invited was going on about some project he has going on in Kenya. Everyone sat around a big table,caressing their drinks and pretending to pay attention. First thing I noticed was Osweto in a grayish grandfatherly sweater and a pinkish shirt, complete with his reading glasses. STOP! I am asking for forgiveness here if I got the colors wrong, color is not my forte, I constantly get it mixed up;what with new colors being invented everyday...sijui lillac,garlic and purple. Why did I notice Osweto first? Well, its not easy to miss Osweto...HA!

I maneuvered my way between Gilbert and Maurice with Isaac playing backup to our quartet. Maurice is always fun to sit next to, I mean he is always worried about or protesting against something. This day it was the Ocampo 6. He was loosing the argument on every count as the meeting progressed along,but I might come back to that later. The meeting went smoothly, save for some folks getting on Metrine's nerves by holding their own kamkunjis until she threatened to charge 50kc for noise-making. Well, that put an end to all that.

Now, anyone who has ever attended a meeting will tell you that the most fireworks are in a tiny little bullet-point at the end of the line popularly know as A.O.B. Our A.O.B coincided with food and this is where Maurice comes in. Can I just make a general statement here before I go on? I am not the kind of guy to stand tall on Charles bridge and proclaim that so and so should never do such and such a job, sawa? Lakini if you are planning a house party and there is a position for food taster, don't hire Maurice. Let me go back a little. A few weeks ago, the powers that be, I mean the officials, in their infinite wisdom, decided to telegraph their punches. They recognized that Kenya went through promulgation a few months ago which gave birth to this little inconvenience called a constitution and so in that spirit, they decided to give us good folks a chance to choose a place to dine and wine...ok, to just dine. Three choices were presented. Raise your hands if you have ever been to Mexico? I haven't been, closest being watching "The good, the bad and the Ugly.". I think that like the rest of you, I know a little bit about it to claim to know a whole lot. Now you know Kenyans with anything elective. We wait till the last minute, fail to read between the lines,,make a hurried choice and then we complain when we don't get the result we want. I think thats the wisdom behind the overwhelming choice of a Mexican restaurant and the fact that it was a buffet. We love buffet. There is just something about putting the word 'food' and 'self service' in one sentence that has us all giddy. So the bell was rang and we made a bee-line for food. The pots were opened and then there was a collective gasp from the first folks around. "Hii ni nini?",Enos asked no-one in particular, poking at the brown roundish piece before him with a fork. Maurice was the first to notify everyone that something was terribly amiss. He took one bite from whatever he had managed to gather on his plate and grimaced. "Majamaa,hii ni noma. Hii food haina hata nyama! Hold on, na hii bana...hii si chapati". There was a chorus of puzzled rumblings from my left side, I turned around to see folks staring at a pile of brown-greenish stuff sitting pretty on a plate. Someone loudly remarked about what the pile reminded him of!! For those who grew up in the village,you know the way hens normally look at something they disapprove of? They surround it and make disapproving noises. Metrine at this time was beside herself with laughter. For all the protests, folks actually ate the food and even went for a second helping. Others were contented with waiting to see if someone actually dies before trying it for themselves. So in the end it worked out fine. But you knew that that was not gonna be the end of it. Coz, we were still in the A.O.B.

Who can guess what the first order of business was during AOB? That's easy. Food. Or more precisely, what we just ate. There were complains about the choice and what not. Gilbert's suggestion was akin to a merry go round. Next meeting could be held at Hilton, where food is better, he nearly said. Some suggested we should just stick to  Budvarka in Dejvicka. "We need to have variety of choice", Enos cried."We can't always go to budvarka". I tried to bring reason into the debate, talking about the fact that you cant have it both ways. "It can't be cheap and good," but no one was really listening. Various suggestions were floated around which always almost boiled down to giving folks more choice and more time. Again, me, always the voice of moderation, tried to right the ship of reason in the right direction. Institutional memory is an invaluable commodity in any company and I tried to remind everyone of the time choice and time was given to us in a food debate and we ended up with a late afternoon picnic near Sparta. Unfortunately, none of those in attendance could relate coz they were busy loosing their milk teeth in 2002. How I missed the presence of George. If you thought this was the end of crazy stuff, you are wrong, coz Osweto was about to step up to the plate.

There is a saying in my village, "Kama ili ema iguonyo", which loosely translates into," you scratch where it itches" and Osweto was itching big time. Granted, he started well enough, thanking everyone for showing up, the guests for their attendance and pearls of wisdom. You know, the usual stuff. He also once again appealed to everyone to chip in something for his very noble project. Please have a look at http://www.afrikaafrice.cz/. Help a brother. So Osweto was letting everyone know about the project and was in the middle of explaining some intricate financial detail when Gilberts arm shot up like an eager kindergartener. He wanted to know more coz now he could, you know, just re-route all that money he normally gives to UNESCO and instead give to Osweto's project. You know I give UNESCO money every month, he announced. He wanted to be given the account number so that he could write a cheque mara that that. Cheque Pap! Ai Omera!

Somewhere between Isaac's prophecy about the ocampo 6 and their date at The Hague and Mulwa's  tooth-pulling techniques, Osweto again sort to have a starring role. Remember I said that something was itching Osweto and he wasnt about to let it go. "Who can put me in touch with Mike Sonko?", he shot up. There was a collective "Who?" from everyone around the table, followed by horror and then suddenly everyone had an opinion, led by Isaac. He wanted to know why Osweto wanted to associate with Sonko and what not. Osweto,surprised by the reception, defended himself the only way he could, ati he is my MP.  Osweto is a brilliant guy and I think he has figured out which side his bread is buttered, doesn't matter if its buttered by Sonko. All he wants to do is make sure that the poor kids can learn. I can understand. This is the thing though, I like sausages like every warm blooded man or woman out there, but that doesn't mean I wanna meet the pig. There are some places one shouldn't be itching to scratch in public. Haha.

DISCLAIMER: The views expressed in this piece are NOT my own,but are a result of whatever mix of beverage I had in my fridge at the time. I take no responsibility whatsoever and if sued, my lawyers are ready to plead temporary insanity.

Have a lovely weekend everybody. I wouldn't trade any of you for any other company, you guys are hilarious.

Fred