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Author Sakwah Ongoma Profile picture
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21 Oct, 7 tweets, 2 min read
The story of Boniface Mwangi, Alfred Mutua, Julian and Lillian Ng'ang'a reminds me of Mouro Icardi and Maxi Lopez.
Icardi and Lopez were friends until Icardi started dating and sleeping with Lopez' wife, Wanda Nara. Wanda Nara and Maxi Lopez divorced following the cheating.
The divorce prompted Mouro Icardi and Wanda Nara to go public about their relationship. They flaunted the relationship on social media which earned them the nickname; The Kardashians of Football.
This depressed Maxi Lopez, seeing his friend flaunting his ex-wife on media, a friend whom he used to invite into his home while he was married. As if flaunting wasn't detrimental enough, Icardi tattooed the names of Lopez' kids onto his body.
This was highly deemed to be an act of emotional provocation. Many people, in Italy, where the two played football, and Argentina, their home, called out Mouro Icardi being immoral. You can take someone's wife/girlfriend without rubbing it on his face.
In Italy, a well-known Mafia group called Sicilian Mafia offered to Maxi Lopez to break Icardi's leg. The society was so infuriated with Icardi's antics that a Mafia group come forward to offer their revenge services to Lopez. The goal was to end Icardi's football career.
Unlike Alfred Mutua (allegedly), Maxi Lopez declined the offer. He acknowledged pondering over it.
Breakups and divorces can be messy, sometimes. Different people have different coupling mechanisms. It is morally wrong to rub on someone's face the fact that s/he lost a loved one
It is immoral to use violence to attack someone expressing their love.Lopez' career regressed since then. The incident affected him. But I must commend him for the manner in which he handled the whole situation, especially for turning down the Mafia's offer to end Icardi's career

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More from @CSakwah

Author Sakwah Ongoma Profile picture
22 Oct
Story Thread

In 2014, from May to September, I locked myself at home and inside the house. When I was not working on our farm, or feeding our livestock, I was in the house watching or reading. I barely left home.
At that point, only a few people knew that I had made a decision not to continue with my university education. The first day I got out of home, it was because of my grandmother’s constant persuasion to go to church. She was ever on my neck asking me to go to church.
‘Just go to church and pray to God!’ She kept on reminding me, every Saturday. ‘Don’t forget to go to church tomorrow.’ Each Sunday, for 4 months, I defied her requests and orders. One Sunday, I decided to attend church. I woke up with a heavy hangover.
Read 24 tweets
Author Sakwah Ongoma Profile picture
27 Sep
This is not the first time that my aunt, Damaris, is hooking me up with a girl. The very first girlfriend that I had as a teenager, the very first love that my heart skipped for, was an upshot of a well-orchestrated hook-up by Auntie Damaris.

Story Thread
She has always been my favorite auntie since I was young, not because she hooks me with girls whom she perceives as beautiful and nice, but because she is a vibe.
In 2008, form 2, I was reporting back to school from a suspension, the first that I ever had.
Auntie Dama accompanied me back to school to face the disciplinary committee.
We traveled from Busia, through Bungoma to Kitale. In Kitale town, we walked into Khetias Supermarket to pick high school essentials.
Read 45 tweets
Author Sakwah Ongoma Profile picture
14 Sep
Story Thread.

They were just strangers, the two beautiful girls, but the havoc that they left in my life within such a short period of knowing each other was enormous. They charmed me with their beauty and an exuberant aura into a trap.
On this day, I was sitting in a small garden sandwiched between Hall 1 hostel (University of Nairobi) and Mamlaka Road. I was smoking Dunhill. In the middle of the garden were two benches. I clouded my eyesight with a dense puff of Dunhill cigarette smoke from my nose.
When the smoke diffused out of my eyesight, the two figures of the most sophisticated guises I have ever seen walked into the garden.
It was offbeat spotting two girls walking towards a cigarette smoking zone within male students’ residential area,
Read 55 tweets
Author Sakwah Ongoma Profile picture
9 Aug
STORY THREAD
In 2018, My cousin and I lived next to a neighbor in Kasarani who owned an uncultured cat that loved to cause prodigious havoc in people’s kitchens at night. One day, the cat invaded our kitchen and ate more than it could chew, literally.
Our immediate neighbor was a professor who lectured at ICIPE, International Center for Insects Psychology and Ecology. That man was as mean as someone else’s faithful housewife. He talked to no one, a pompous professor.
He stayed alone in a two-bedroom house,
my cousin and I stayed in a 1-bedroom house. He owned a cat; a lousy, ugly, and mischievous cat with a monstrous stature. The Cat was very huge. Sometimes I wondered if one of the bedrooms belonged solemnly to the cat. He had no wife, no kid nor any human companion. Just the cat.
Read 32 tweets
Author Sakwah Ongoma Profile picture
4 Aug
I was bullied during my first supper in high school. After queuing, I received a plate of ugali and boiled sukuma wiki. I sat at a table that was unoccupied. The next table was occupied by 4 form 3s taking their supper as well.
I scooped a spoonful of ugali and sukuma wiki and tried to eat. They tasted awful. One spoon was enough to convince me that I was not an animal to take such a meal, at least for that day. I decided that I was not going to take more than a spoon of the meal.
I rose to my feet to leave. One of them, Nahashon, called me to their table. He asked me where was I taking a plate full of supper.
‘I am full, I am going to throw the food away into the dustbin.’
‘Pass me your plate,’ Nahashon said.
Read 8 tweets
Author Sakwah Ongoma Profile picture
30 Jul
Story Thread

Screams of terror rendered our apartment’s air with calls of distress. A woman was screaming from one of the houses on the upper floor of our apartment. The first thought that launched into my mind was of a woman being assaulted by her husband.
For the sake of gathering this content, I dashed out of my house without locking the door with a padlock. I had a high false sense of security which was inspired by the agency of the matter and the knowledge that my fellow tenants could not steal from one another.
At the door, I met my neighbor at his door. None of us was privy to what was happening, yet he asked me what was going on.
‘What is going on?’ He asked.
‘Jesus is blowing his trumpet to signal his second coming,’ I shouted on the way up.
Read 41 tweets

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