In Summary
  • To outsiders, these men are idle, lackadaisical, work-shy humans. They are the bad company we have always been warned about.
  • But the base-frequenters believe they are having a really good time, living the good life.
  • And it’s hard to convince them otherwise.
  • Do you have feedback on this article? Please email: lifeandstyle@ke.nationmedia.com

The base – it is a designated area in the hood where a group of men sit just to pass time. While there, they talk about things, a lot of things.

To outsiders, these men are idle, lackadaisical, work-shy humans. They are the bad company we have always been warned about by every well-meaning elder.

But the base-frequenters themselves don’t see it this way. They believe they are having a really good time, living la vida loca (the good life). And it’s hard to convince them otherwise.

Women hate the base because of the ogling that emanates from it. I can understand. Imagine a collection of pupils, irises and corneas all trained on your body every time you pass. It must be really uncomfortable.

Whenever a woman strides near the base, she is normally subjected to acute scrutiny. The men stare at her like she is a UFO (Unidentified Flying Object), descending at a steady velocity of 40 km/h from the skies. They discuss her like she is a trending topic. Sometimes they even direct misogynistic remarks towards her.

For focused men, the base is no place to be. It’s usually seen as a contaminated hang-out spot that is only cherished by losers. Men who want the best for themselves never sit at the base. Some never even walk near it because they have inbuilt intellectual GPS systems. They’d rather take an alternative route to wherever they are going than pass near the ‘high traffic’ road that passes near the base.

DIFFERENT PERSONALITIES

There is a common base in my hood. I’ve always avoided it but yesterday, I found myself there. It was not by choice. I was rushing home after purchasing my daily dose of avocado when I was summoned by one of the base fellas.

Buda!… Kuja tu dakika moja (Hi, please come),” he roared.

I wasn’t happy. My displeasure didn’t come from the fact I was being forced to join them. My issue was that I really wanted to get home, and quickly, so I could eat the avocado.

Remember when I wrote an article about avocados? Well, right now I can even write a whole book because my love for them has grown to inordinate levels. I adhere to a ‘1 x 3’ dosage while taking avocados. It’s like they are antibiotics. Whenever I get my salary, the first item on the monthly budget is the avocado.

Anyway, the guy that had summoned me was someone I had bumped into a couple of times before. He always said ‘hello’ so I felt it would be discourteous not to go.

It turned out he just wanted me to show him how to operate a certain app on his phone. Good to know that I look nerdy enough to be asked for technological assistance by strangers.

As I helped him out, I got to hear the conversations of the men at the base.  I must say, they were interesting. They actually delved into addictive topics. This made me understand why some men keep going back to these spots again and again.

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