I go to shop in town because I cannot find milk anywhere else (what is up with that by the way?) and I end up finding it in my least favourite supermarket. Nakumatt Lifestyle. I really hate this supermarket. Among the many reasons; the prices are not student friendly. Hell, they are not even citizen friendly. I was just from a neighbouring Tuskys and a packet of rice costs 715 KeSh there, but in Lifestyle? 8motherfucking00! If that is not a huge difference to you, you must be the 1% they be talking about. Some Kenyans have even gone to the extent of saying this supermarket is racist. It only targets whites who are always willing to spend and those wannabe Kenyans that love to ball on a budget. I guess I see why they’d say that. It is like everything there is sold in wholesale size. Instead of the small packet of biscuit you’ll get a whole carton that costs like the wheat used to make them is extracted from diamonds. Expensive.
I really should not mind that Lifestyle is expensive, or racist or whatever you might call it. It is a business and its main aim is to suck you broke. As long as I have the option of getting the same product in another supermarket at a Naivas nice price, I am okay. But my cheap supermarkets had run out so I had no choice. I had to. I braced myself for the security search.
Another reason I hate this supermarket. Recently Kenya adopted this desensitization antic that is aimed at making us insensitive at our invasion of privacy at the name of terrorism watch. All buildings have a security guard that will frisk you but still let you in even if the bomb detector screams 4 different types of beeps. But again, it is not the frisking that I hate, it is how they do it that pisses me off. There this guard that loves to just hurt me. I am standing there with my arms wide open. Like Jesus on the cross. Then he plants the gadget under my armpits and works his way down my side. He doesn’t let it hover over my body though. He pats me down with it. Or (and this is where now I go crazy) he rubs it across my ribs. I am not particularly fatty so you can imagine how I feel as this nigga strums my ribs with that thing.
You may be seated on that toilet seat (that is when you get time to read this blog from, no?) wondering, is there a sound that comes out when my ribs get strummed like a guitar? Well, yes there is. The sound of me squeaking in pain trying to hint at a nigga that he is hurting me. I don’t think he gets it though. Seeing as he goes on to strum my other set of ribs too. And then he let’s me in without checking my bag.
I find the milk and line up at the checkout behind this lady that is literally paying her bill shilling by shilling. It took a while. But finally, it is my turn and I hand over the cash.  The teller however goes on to tell me that he has ran out of loose change so I would have to take sweets as change.

Pause!
  • Didn’t I just see the lady before me pay in loose change? What the fuck was this guy talking about?
  • If you are going to give me sweets as change sell them to me at their real value. Do not go making a profit off it. One sweet is valued at 1 bob instead of its actual price which is definitely lower, 50 cents maybe.
  • Why should I suffer for his shortcomings? It is not my fault that he doesn’t have coins. Instead of giving me four sweets, just me be that 5 bob coin. You have made enough of money conning other folks. [If a 2000 customers pass by his check out and half get a sweet instead of a shilling, he is has just made 1000 easy.]
Unpause

I could refuse the sweets on account of my ‘diabetes’ or something and then demand for actual money. But I decide against it. I have been told I complain too much so I just accept the freaking sweets. I made a point of remembering the counter and the teller. I will go back there soon and pay for a 150 KeSh. mint chocolate bar with 146 shillings and those four fucking sweets. I am never throwing them away. Clearly he gave them to me as currency so he should accept them. Right? I know he might not accept them but I will fuzz like something else to the point that he will have to call security. And I hope he calls that frisky one so that he too can get a piece of my mind.
That is how my Nakumatt day was. Full of annoyance. How is yours like?

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Even with the smiley faces on them these sweet change did not make me smile.

PS: If you have coins stacked up in your home, please take them to the supermarkets (especially this one) and help them reduce this madness. Thank you.

As first seen in dexxe.blogspot.com/2012/03/we-ave-new-currency-in-town.html on 5th Mar 2012. 

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