Alive with possibilities ...

Brenda is a self-proclaimed “reggae-chick”. This means she has a date downtown on a Wednesday night, with the throng of Nairobi’s reggae lovers. She starts getting herself ready at around 10 on a Wednesday. Then I know she’s going down to Madhouse for a few hours, even if I’m not going.

On Wednesday night we were both at Reggae Night. I didn’t dance because I’m getting a bit bored with hearing much the same music week-after-week (there’s obviously no new reggae coming into Nairobi). But I relaxed, and enjoyed the old tracks anyway. Brenda danced a few lacklustre times, being similarly bored.

I just lounged, and watched the passing parade (listening to regular features of Lucky Dube tracks). We got there early, and we left much earlier than usual …

But a little before this …

There I was, chilling, doing a bit of a slouch on the couch, making a backrest of Brenda’s long limbs, when I heard her exclaim something in rapid, unintelligible Swahili.

I caught only the last word.

It was ….. “... Maasai!”

I looked in the general direction of her pointed exclamation and saw ‘it’ …

Long bare legs, very thin, and skin the colour of ash. He wore beaded bracelets around both ankles. His feet were bare but for a pair of hand-made Maasai ‘treads’. He was wearing one of those knitted caps, worn in Jamaica, shaped like a top-hat. He sported a black regulation-style vest, Maasai-midi-blanket and a long cream jacket modestly covering his calves. His face reminded me of the meerkat in The Lion King, small and round. His thick dreadlocks were spiraling out of control from under the hat.

He stood around for a minute and went to dance almost immediately. Facing me, I could see thick rows of Maasai beads, in multiple arrays around his neck. At the bottom of one necklace was a small gourd of sorts.

Brenda saw it first and exclaimed, slightly under her breath:

“Maasai Rasta Ju-Ju Man !!! ..... HeHeeeeeeeeeeyyy, Baba!”

The real deal folks. And dancing with the coolest, nonchalant style I have seen in a while.

The Madhouse dancefloor was being pounded with amorphous low frequencies. Everyone was rocking with the Maasai. He started taking the coat off - revealing the vest, and even more beaded necklaces. He kind of let the coat hang on his elbows, seemingly wondering if he should reveal all.

Brenda and I stood transfixed at this apparition before us. She has never seen anything like it in Nairobi. And certainly neither have I (my best so far is the Maasai in Ngong town using his mobile – picture at bottom of previous blog)

But I think the Maasai Rasta Ju-Ju Man got a bit self-conscious from the stares engulfing him. He quickly replaced the jacket and left the dancefloor, not to be seen again.

Where else but in Kenya? Just one of the reasons why I love this place so much.

All I can say right now is "Yes, weekend!"

Have a good one, all.

B-)