“Be careful of where you a walk n be watchful how you talk/ Beware of the vampire who a creep up in the dark/” – Richie Spice

Yesterday as is the usual with an alkaholik I got off work and headed for the bar. It was one of those days I like, there was very few people at the pub so I had the whole counter to myself and the full attention of the barman. Nothing beats that especially when you have just spent close to an hour in traffic with Nairobi drivers, who I must say are the lowest form of canine fecal matter in the world. They don’t follow any traffic rules and they lack even a nuance of courtesy save for a few. 

Anyway I was enjoying my naps at the bar when I felt the urge to indulge someone in conversation, you know, just get some things off my chest. Unlike most idiots I see at the bar who usually strike a conversation with the bartender, I decided to talk to someone who knew me well. I started to talk to myself and it was quite an enlightening conversation even though some old men who seemed on the brink of exiting this world were looking at me like I had just got off the bus from the mental institution.

Self and I needed to talk though because we have been at conflict with each other for a minute now. From music to women it has been a back and forth battle kind of like the best rapper discussion that I had with G Money. When I told Self I think Misiko is fine, he gladly pointed out that her weave kind of sucks, when I wanted to listen to some MJB, and Self wanted to listen to Movado who by the way, I think has invented a new level of suck by doing that song with Jay Z. I mean, I am in constant battle with myself.

I told Self that I think he had joined the rest of the world that I think have dreadful taste in music and he retaliated by saying that I was the one person in the globe with absolutely horrible taste in women. By this time the conversation was intense and we decided to take our little tete-a-tete home because Self felt we didn’t need to wash our dirty linen in public, something he never had a problem with before. At the digz we were sipping on some Carling beer spiked with naps and here’s how the convo went:

Self: You know that your bitch ass is going to hell, right?

Bella: Nah bruh, they’re preparing a chamber for me in heaven as we sip man!

Self: Dude you have done some incredibly bad shit in your life son!

Bella: I know but I’ve done good shit too. I know my man Fred n ‘em are up there chilling waiting for me fam.

Self: Who’s Fred again?

Bella: That bartender from Mwenda’s that always fixed us free experimental cocktails. Fam, we were his guinea pigs, remember?

Self: Long time ago. I don’t live in the past like you, bitch!

Bella: I know I have loose morals but haven’t I been a good dude through all the shit I been through?

Self: Let’s see, you’ve done numerous drugs, kissed a dude for booze, had group sex, cheated on the only person you loved…three times, you drink daily, don’t go to church, boned your friends’ girls, secretly wanted to see all politicians blown up, participated one way or the other in numerous abortions. Need I go on?

Bella: I see what you mean fam but I try to get right with the Lord in my own time though I admit I haven’t touched the bible in a minute…matter of fact where is it at?

We started to search for it but only found an old pair of boxers that I am wearing right now and I must say they are quite comfy. Self and I realized that we have to live with each other amidst this conflict and maybe one day we might share the same perspective on life. I also realized that it is true what people say about me, I drink too much and I’m crazy.

The title is Knowledge Of Self, a term common with the 5 percenters aka The Nation Of Gods and Earths, for more info check out the song by the same name on the Black Star album. If you’ve never listened to Black Star, kill yourself. Seriously.



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