Be warned…Am told the next destination for sin is Meru Sevens this weekend. Ok, karibuni lakini, So that you (or your relatives thereafter) don’t say you weren’t warned:
Meru is not Machakos. For various reasons.
While Machakos is an upcoming city, MERU is an old village city. We don’t entertain new things unless they’ve been sanctioned by Njuri Ncheke.
In Meru, we use whips to drive away demons.
In Meru, our girls behave maturely. They know what they want and where they get it. So don’t come looking for quickies.
In Meru, our girls don’t drink alcohol. They drink fermented porridge. So, your beers may end up in River Kathita.
In Meru, the governor is Peter Munya. He believes artificial insemination is alien, so he actually bought real bulls to mate our heifers. So don’t come with GM bulls.
To get to Meru, you don’t drive. You negotiate corners, valleys, mountains and bushes. Worse, you don’t drink and drive.
Meru is not 70km from Nairobi. No, talk of 250km, if you get a straight line.
To get to Meru, you must pass through Martin Wambora’s residence and Tharaka Nithi. You all know Nithi? Ok.
In Meru, currently, we are angry with anything British. Especially after they banned our green gold (Veve) from their markets. So, if you have to make a joke, do it before you cross Thuchi river. Otherwise, the Meru anger may be misplaced into your dental cage.
In Meru, we don’t watch men stripping in public. We like it done in privacy and in full glare of darkness.
Finally, and not least, we don’t have enough space for vehicles with tinted windows in Meru. We like people to enjoy sunlight.
Oh, I forgot to mention, a return drive to Kinoru Stadium takes one and half tanks of Premium Petrol.
That’s about 70 litres.
Welcome to those who understand the rules and warnings.