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Lewis Martin


Today is the Saint valentine’s day, the day set aside for the celebration of love. Therefore it is just right that we talk about love. An aspect of love to be precise. Several people have tried to describe love before to no avail and I have no business meddling in it. Lest I break it for the lover. Even in as much as I like basking in the glory of spoilage, change is as better as a rest. Let me take a path less treaded to look at who a great lover is.

A great lover is most of the times believed to be embodied in actions rather than words. For the lovers of literature, you will hear most of the time they refer to Romeo and Juliet as the perfect example of an epitome of how a lover can get.

The religious guys on the hand would throw to you the act of Jesus Christ of Nazareth facing persecutions, crucifixion, and dying on the cross for human sins as the ultimate act of a good lover.

That every good lover must be willing to do something for you to express their love.
I tend to think otherwise. I believe that a good lover is the one who neither shows nor acts. That a great lover is one whose talks or actions towards the object of desire cannot be a measure on the love they hold for the other.

A great lover is someone who loves you from the deepest part of their heart but they acknowledge the fact that the beauty of the love would dissappear the moment they confess it to you. Not necessarily because of the fear of rejection, but of the fact that nothing stays the same after the confessions of love.

Even in as much as many believe that a great lover should go to whichever extremes to show their love. Well, looking at it from the angle of the lovee (does this exist) , I doubt if the risk is worth it. Will they have peace after their lover is gone? Will they be enjoying in solitude as they would have with the lovers around. How about their families and friends. How will they feel after his/her demise?

Again will they have achieved their purpose through the death? Like in Jesus’ case, did he die for the hypocrisy we face in church today? What a wasted death if at all he died for our sins yet sins keep spiraling, in fact some new and worse ways of sinning keep spiraling up with every new generation.
A great lover is the one who watches you from a distance, seeing the much they can bring themselves to, and believe you are the perfect human being who ever graced the earth.

The world has grown so capitalistic, where everything is getting commercialized, love inclusive. That is why the modern day Valentine’s day is hinged more on the spending money to show love, more than any other aspect, then sex maybe next following closely. It is such that the more you can spend on your partner is the greater a lover you are perceived to be.

Woe unto you broke men!

The truth is that great lovers are not worried about splashing gifts on you for just a single day. You already revolve in their world. They spend their lovey (this as well) time thinking about you. They have poems written about you, stories where you are the prosperous starring, even if not on paper but in their hearts. To them is a world where you are the sole leader and you call all the shots.

They spend their time studying you. Do not confuse it with stalking. They know and like things about you, so they have no need to disturb your peace asking you to tell them about yourself as if in a interview. They pay attention to details. They love how your hair rests on your shoulders. How you laugh and talk. They even love how you breath.

They know that in the morning your breathe beats the smell of socks submerged in dirty waters the worn for a whole week. They still love you the same.

What a pure love!

A great lover loves you more than any being has ever loved another but they never get in your way, and they let you keep whatever they love in you.

Can we for once let the so called nice guys and the ” shy” in love win this?

Happy Valentine’s day to you our readers.


The other day I was on a matatu headed to the house. A guy boarded the vehicle mid way; I really didn’t know what happened between him and the conductor. I only heard the conductor yell, “Hii gari huwa haibebi Wajaluo kama wewe!” That was one of the worst open tribalism incidents I have seen in my life. Any other time I would have protested and gotten out of the vehicle, well not that day. People had earlier on been killed just for coming from a given tribe or supporting a certain political candidate.

Together with all the other passengers we kept mum. Even though we might have been uncomfortable, we endured through it all, only fighting the injustice within ourselves.

As a society we have employed the mute mode on evils in the society. One of the worst ills we are facing today is police brutality. Our political scene has been characterized with several deaths. Police have employed the use of extra force in dealing with the people they should be protecting. They have beaten, killed and maimed people. In all these we expect calls for a stop to the killing but no we are proven wrong.

Our celebs have kept silent in calling out a stop on police brutality. They are busy protecting brands when their fans are dying. The once great boy band Sautisol would rather release sexual videos to save their stumbling musical career than speak out on the evils in the society. They are becoming part of the evils we have to deal with.

How can you say to your fans ‘I love you all’ on social media yet show none of that in action? Is it for the likes? What happens when all your fans are gone? Will you speak out then?

The political class has failed us miserably in the fight. I did not follow live the swearing in ceremony of President Uhuru Kenyatta, but I had to get my hands on his speech. I had to go through it more than once; to ensure that indeed I had not missed the acknowledgment of the political deaths in Kenya since the August 8 elections rather he did not talk about it at all. It feels so bad when the lives lost are treated like the slaughtering of chicken.

The truth is that it’s high time we have the uncomfortable conversation on police brutality.

My home county, Kisumu, has seen its fair share of police brutality and killings. The stage is always set for police brutality before any national political contest. My people cannot celebrate or show disappointment (most cases) in whatever political outcome. Before any public announcement there is heavy deployment of police to Kisumu. Media follows in second. Ready to capture the best photos and videos of the rowdy Kisumu people.

When the rest of the country looks at Kisumu, it sees a land of violence; a group of people who don’t have peace in their DNA, a place full of rowdy youth who thrive in destruction, a backward place with everyone an expert in throwing stones. But then they need to ask themselves some few questions. How did Kisumu manage to become a city when it is full time violence? How do people in Kisumu fend for themselves when all they do is violence all the time? The last time I checked violence couldn’t feed people.

The media has played a big role in painting a picture of violence in the minds of the people in relation to Kisumu. The media is hell bent on portraying violence as a Luo affair. For example, it took ages to report the cases on police killings in Bungoma, only showing it after widespread talks in social media.

Unlike what the media is portraying, Kisumu people are one of the most welcoming and loving people around Kenya. They are a people who have suffered and struggled to be where they are, just like most Kenyans. They are very forgiving people. Their only undoing is that they lack the pretentious gene in their DNAs. They don’t sugarcoat anything they want to address. Another undoing may be the lack of diplomacy in how they react. Truth be told. But before you judge, remember there is always more to a story.

The media has failed to call out the police killings. I am yet to see any media campaign directed towards stopping police brutality. Then you wonder why most people stopped watching our media? Sometime back activist Boniface Mwangi led a protest condemning police brutality only to end up being a victim. Media covered it live in their channels, but what did they say?

Make no mistake, just because the current police killings are directed towards a certain community or political group doesn’t mean that it will not get to another place next time. Power, just like death, moves to all homes from time to time. At the moment it might seem to be so far or even the thought may appear to be farfetched, but it will come. We have the opportunity to call it out and it be stopped otherwise when the time for the other people to face the brutality comes, they may also just sit down, relax and watch.

Do not speak out only if you are assured you will never need anyone to speak for you.

A group of people who happen to be from the ‘right’ political side think that those killed by the police during protests have called the deaths upon themselves. ‘msiba wa kujitakia’ they say. They have a feeling that the best thing to do in such a time is to keep away from the streets. The truth is that hiding away is not a way to achieve any reforms. How would Kenya have achieved independence if the Mau Mau kept away in the comfort of their homes when the colonialists wanted them to? Would we be having Uhuru park if the women who camped at the place heeded Moi’s threats and brutal treatment? All noteworthy political reforms in Kenya have been achieved with guys on the streets.

Again, they fail to notice that police in some cases have forcefully ejected people from their houses for the beatings. The people in slums in Kisumu and perceived opposition strongholds have such gory tales. Children have been killed at one of the supposed safest places, HOME.

We have a government which seems hell-bent on trying to instill fear in its citizens. A government that may not be ready to accommodate different views. Some people have been arguing that the police are justified to kill and injure the opposition supporters because of violence and looting. Then you are left wondering why they teargas the Maa community peacefully demonstrating against the killing of their cows? There are more civilised ways of dealing with a rowdy crowd. A bullet is not one. That’s meant for war. And we are not at war. We are neighbours, friends, family. But we use war strategies against our own. The very arms and energy used to fight our own can be used to fight our mutual enemy. Those who are killing our children in schools. Those killing our neighbours as they travel in buses. Saying this makes me wonder, is there really a difference between the said bad guys and the police?

Unfortunately, it’s getting to a time when people wouldn’t fear anymore, when guys are ready to face the fire head on and brave whatever weapon that is thrown their way. That is a clear indication that we are breeding a group of people accustomed to death, pain, and hate. With time the killings would not be a threat enough. It will be a norm. That is a dangerous time.

I was talking to Princess earlier this week on how at times we have different views on the evils in the country and she told me in part, “…because I know the moment I start justifying wrongs, am lost.” I couldn’t agree more. It is high time the citizens of this country stop finding a way of justifying wrongs. It is really heartbreaking to hear someone defend the killings of children.

Once Kenya has decided that killing children is bearable, IT IS OVER. No debate.

Chapter four of the constitution of Kenya on rights and fundamental freedoms, provides for human dignity. Every person has inherent dignity and the right to have that dignity respected and protected.

There is not even a single shred of dignity from how the police handle the masses. The police brutality met on women and children, the clobbering on our brothers, maiming and beatings of everyone on the streets comes with no dignity. For that, I want to pass a note to the police. WE DESERVE BETTER. We have dignity to uphold. It must be protected. We must not beg for it.

We deserve to be served and protected by the police irrespective of our political affiliation as long as we are within the provisions of the constitution. We only should be afraid of criminals not police.


Being someone who lives life on the fast lane, I don’t think things over. I believe in doing them first and thinking later or even failing to think altogether. I suspect when I think first, I would persuade myself out of it (happens with my writing all the time). But then we all know that regret for the things we do can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we do not do that is inconsolable. Dating has never been an exception.

One of my recent adventures gave me something to think about though. So for the first time I am thinking about age in relation to dating and relationships. In this case I was talking with a lady I actually had intentions of making moves (smooth or otherwise) on.

With my permit for story on approved, we join the story in progress.

Her:  So there are screenshots I want to bring to our attention (winking emoji)

Me: Eheh go ahead

Her:  (sends two social media profiles) Open mind (winking emoji)

Me: Okay, I can see, go ahead

Her: What’s your take on age and relationship…genuinely…? Like you’ve not seen those screenshots.

Me: I saw the screenshots and can’t see what’s up.  With me I am not pro age. It is important, but it is just a number.  What’s your take?

This is someone I have been talking with for some time. She found me witty and really fun. She thought I am someone worth knowing more about. After doing her stalking (she made open her impeccable stalking skills) it dawns on her that I am a year younger. At this point she was going all out. Like she had seen the biggest turn off ever.

She was gearing to drop my ass so hard. Emanating noise would be magnitudes louder than thunder. Buildings would shake like biscuits shaken in a box. Glasses smashed. Books falling off shelves. It was to be terrifying. Tarmac would crack with cars on top. Electric poles would fall, lights sparkling all over. Squirrels would jump to their gods of rodents for redemption. In that moment I had instantly gone from sexable to invisible.

While many people would want to lie or even create an illusion of being older, I don’t do that. I am someone who accepts things they can’t change. No one has control over the time they are born. Not even the people they are born of. So all I do is take time to understand why someone would think that my age is a turn off. Here is how that conversation ended;

Her:  (several laughter emoji)…but I can’t really say it works because av not dated older men… So I guess ni mentality nimekuwa nayo.

Her:  I just wanted to talk about this…rather than have it lingering

I had retained my place as sexable. No earthquake is happening. I can’t be responsible for the first 7.0 magnitude earthquake in Kenya.

Society has created a mental picture revolving around age differences. Most of the time people feel wrong when they start developing feelings for people outside their age bracket. The society wants to make you feel that dating an older person is mainly for material gains and not love. Well, you could still date someone your age for reasons other than love.

Several people choose their relationship partners based on different criteria. I don’t know how a guy wakes up one day and decide that he is all about ass. That a great ass cannot let him settle, it makes them uncontrollably giddy, and super excited. Some will go the boob’s way. Juicy boobs look to him so inviting. He just wants to hold, caress and appreciate. The world can keep its supermodels, anorexic looking as they are.

Is it hereditary? Like my liking for BBW a trait passed to me from my dad who got it from my grandpa who also got it from the people before him. Like one of my ancestors would send guys out to bring a woman home with clear instructions. She must have things I can hold to when I fall asleep. Or maybe am just compensating for my small body, who knows? Or even worse I am looking for a parental figure. Whatever it is, to me there is something disarming about big women. Without lingerie their boobs sit lower, more natural less close together and look so perfectly molded.

Many people have age as a factor in deciding whom they date. The media has also portrayed age to be a big factor in the relationships people have. It has revered men for having younger partners, while castigating older women for having younger spouses.

Emmanuel Macron, France’s youngest president hit the headlines more for his marriage with the 64 year old first lady. Instead of praising Macron and Brigitte, the media cast bad light on the first lady. Some people in France went ahead to sign a petition barring Brigitte from becoming the official France’s first lady. But how about in reversed roles where the man is older? Trump and Melanie’s age difference has never been a hot topic. It did not even make the man to almost miss the top seat. You are left wondering, what has someone’s love life got to do with their leadership skills?

The Kenyan society has had its fair share on the age difference debate. The most mentioned one is the wedding between the former Mau Mau freedom fighter Wambui Otieno and Mbugua. The 67 year old Wambui kissed with the 25 year old Mbugua on live television. Did you think romance dies with age? Wambui’s daughters boycotted the wedding while Mbugua’s mother refused to accept Wambui as her daughter in law. She later on collapsed and died.  It was that serious.

We often put up walls and flee for the mountains, but before shutting the door on the chance at love, think about your potential lover’s maturity level. If you both are on the same level of maturity, don’t let the attached age number cloud your decision.

How many times have you heard the phrase, “act your age”? It means that the society expects you to behave in a certain way at a given age. Well, that is not the case with everyone. People experience life in different ways making growth different in people. You can be 22 years old with the mindset of a 42 year old or vice versa. This is to say that time is just a human created concept.

One of my all time favorite writers Oyunga Pala also had a very sober look at age that you will definitely  like. He likened it to a Jail cell being just a room

So age is just a number. It’s totally irrelevant unless, of course you happen to be a bottle of wine.


The other day I was talking with a long gone friend. She suggested a coffee meeting in town. Instead of worrying about what to write here while at the same time trying to come up with what to wear when I will be meeting her, or even to fail honoring the meeting altogether, I deemed it fit to have content from you. Please don’t crucify me, it is not that I value this place less, it is only that this is an ex I will be meeting. She cleared school when I was in my second year. She was the sweetest taboo. So I have to give it a good thought.

I was surprised that some people had been waiting for a chance to ask me questions, I don’t know why they have never got to me and asked before. I am an easy person and open for talks, even small talks. So feel free.

Here are your questions and the answers;

Q. What would you do if money wasn’t an object?

A. In my life all I want is to travel. I want to experience different cultures. I want to watch topless women on the beaches in Rio De Janeiro. I want to view the earth from a hot air balloon in South Africa. I also want to see tall buildings and see the wonders of the world. I will create a museum in Seme with a piece from every traveling destination I get to.
I would also get a huge chunk of land and create LewisMartin forest. A place I would dissappear to when I want to go away and interact with the wild as I appreciate the work of God.

Q. If you could go back in time what do you think you could do differently?

A. Well, mostly I have made good decisions in life but if I was to go back in time I would not take a degree in communication, it’s not like it’s bad, I would go for a skill like Web design and the likes. I would even do more sciences and mathematics. I feel I wasted a bigger part of my brain taking easy courses. I did not even have to read or attend classes and I don’t remember getting a retake, not unless they give me one at the moment.

Q. Are you married?

A. I am not married yet. Though those guys back at home have started asking suggestive questions. I hope when they get me leads it won’t be someone who wants to sign a prenuptial agreement.

Q. Are you dating?

A. Nop, I am single.

Q. How deep in of a crush do you have for your blog mate?

A. Eheh well Paula Norah is what I would call beauty meets sophistication. She is the most beautiful lady I know. I like everything about her. We can easily talk about anything in the face of the earth. Some even out of the earth. I would say she is atypical. You guys interact with her every other week in this platform and you can attest she sure is worth her weight in gold. All that combined, I love her, so not a crush.

Q. What is your most Outstanding Character?

A. This is a question that is best answered by someone else who knows me well other than me. But I would say I am spontaneous.

Q. What are your greatest and most embarrassing moments as a writer?

A. I have had some great moments as a writer mostly when I go to some place and someone out of nowhere tells me, “Hey, I have been reading your work.”
The other day I attended an event full of the Kenyan celebs; musicians, actors,media guys and even the great business guys in the country. It made me feel good about being a writer. The event with Khaligraph Jones, Fena Gitu, Elani, Nyashinski, and several big shots in the capital, it was more like a Kenyan Music Academy night. Then you interact with such and have drinks on the same table with nobody all over them. It was a great event.
About the embarrassing moments, I don’t think I have faced any yet.

Q.Its actually raining around here and I’ve always wanted to ask you what’s your frequent thought when its raining heavily and you’re just staring at the raindrops and you have your thoughts magnified?

A. I was born in Kisumu city, at some point in life shit happened and we had to return to the village. We left everything in town and headed home empty handed. Our house in shagz was what befits the term shackle. It was a small grass thatched one room house. The grass on the roof was placed such that the side of the bed was well done while, on the other side you could be able to tell any changes on weather conditions. You would feel the strength of the sun when a sun ray pierced through, and count stars as well as see how big the moon was by looking through the roof. That would tell you what it was when it rained. In short rains were nightmares and it sickened us. While other kids would be rejoicing and playing on the rains, with us it was as if rains were a way to ridicule us for being poor.
Well, the situation changed to the better after some years. That is why nowadays when I see the rain and just look at the raindrops, all I say is, “God you are good.”
There is also another part of me which wants to get someone pretty and go get soaked in the waters as we do inappropriate things in the rain.

Q. Biggest challenge as a writer in PepperLife

A. My biggest challenge as a writer in PepperLife is also my greatest motivation. The challenge is having a great partner. Paula writes so well, you read her articles and feel that she has done good. She writes with passion that keeps growing. People rave about her, I go to places and people talk about how awesome my partner is. It is really good, but wait till you open Ms Word and you want to bring a piece to life. I do feel like I would bring shit and this is a good motivation. It is really not comparing stuff, it is just the feeling that you won’t want to go down when she has taken the bar so high. So she better keep it going the way she has always done it.

Q. Are you interested in men?

A. Yes, I am interested in both men and women. Given that I am a man I have to be interested in men, like I have to know what men face in daily lives. I have to know what fatherhood and marriage life entails, coz with time I am going to be a dad and a husband. I have to interact with different men and see how life is for them. I am interested in men in all things except sexually, I am straight like a wall.

Q. What do you think about your university friendships?

A. I had a very good stint in campus. I at times miss the place. That would only be possible with my friends. I had great friends. They impacted my life and I also impacted their lives I believe. Without the friends I would be an animal peg in a soggy ground.

Q. How many ladies have you dumped and what was the reason?

A. I am not really the person who dumps ladies. I am a person who is open minded, we just agree on what we both want from the word go. We can always agree about these things, it is never that serious.

Q. What do you think of Kenya?

A. I think Kenya needs more men like CJ David Maraga. People who will uphold the rule of law and with the fear of God.

Q. Have you found your dream girl?

A. Yeah.

Q. How and when did you decide to be a blogger?

A. I have always wanted to be a writer. In my second year I was already writing for a publication. The problem is that websites would start on a good path but then on a need to gain quick traffic they would go to sensational news and I would quit. I definitely cannot write on something I don’t like. I kept writing and keeping them or sharing with only one person who did a good work keeping the fire in me burning. I am sure I couldn’t have started blogging on my own, I kept letting procrastination have the better of me. So with the immense help from my partner(sole reader, editor and critic by then), early this year, I got a feet. Shortly after, we moved to this site together as partners.

Q. You run PepperLife with Paula. How’s the partnership like? Is it a 50-50 partnership/ a Co CEO situation or does one of you get a higher percentage if it were to be in terms of shares?

A. PepperLife is a balanced and equal partnership. Everything goes 50-50.

Q. I always doubt your relationship with Paula. Are you dating or have you ever dated?

A. We are not dating and we have never dated. We are great friends though I am not ruling out that option.

Q. Would you be a man and confirm in this blog that Paula is your dream wife?

A. Yes, I will be a man and confirm that she is a super lady, any man will be extremely lucky to have her.

Q. If Lewis Martin wasnt taking kiswahili mawasiliano, what would be his career now?

A. I am really not sure about that, by the time I was headed to that course I didn’t even know what I wanted, at one point I was thinking of KMTC. What I am sure though is that I would still be writing no matter the place I ended.

Q.If Lewis Martin was to write a book on his life, what would the title be?

A.IT IS EXACTLY WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE’. One day you might meet it in a bookstore. I know it will be looking relaxed like a guy on holiday at the coast who just wants peace and a good time, please smile at it and strike a conversation. The conversation might lead to other things.

Q. Are you ever curios of who you’d be in an alternate universe, like if you were born maybe in a different time, to a different family and in a different environment. Or who do you think you would be and what talents would you think you’d have?

A. In another universe, I would be a pigeon. They are never into anybody’s business. They are just peaceful and relaxed. They have a way of just keeping it together. They don’t crave too much attention, they are happy with what they got. Those are the things I like. I know I would fit in that team.

Q.If you were to go back in time relationship wise, what would you do differently?

A. I would keep everything the way they were except maybe slow on my rebounds game.

I really tried answering most of the questions. Someone wanted to know if I had taken supper one night and she insisted I answer it here. Yeah, I had taken supper. A cup of tea, bread and cake.

I think this is a session I will be taking annually as I think of a way to drag my partner to have a session of her own. I mean, if she was one of the guys who used Sarahah, she can easily handle this.

Thanks for your questions, if at all you still have some for me, wait till next year same period.


There are some moments you never want interrupted. You want to keep them in any medium possible and play them anytime you feel like. Such moments could come when you are at the shore of Lake Victoria, as the afternoon breeze smashes on your face, gets past your ears and you feel your body blocking its flow. The waves of the Lake flow gently with a little sunshine giving the breeze all the time in the world to ask yourself why you took so long to get to that place. Besides you stands a gem, with vivacious features and eyes that sparkle brightening your day. It is her idea that you are there in the first place.

You move close to this beautiful being as if to point to her something on the visible shore across you, and you steadily move your left hand to rest on her lower back, your right hand still on your side. Just when you are slowly moving your left hand even lower, your phone starts ringing. Phones never let you have your moments. I believe phones are the neediest devices in this world; they don’t want you concentrating on any other thing. If your phone has ever rang at such a moment to remind you that you belong to this world, then you will get it.

You are torn between picking that phone and just silencing it. You then check it only to find it is that call that you cannot miss. It’s mum calling, and when mum calls, you will pick. She is enquiring why you never got home the previous day. Apparently she had saved you some food knowing you will get home. She is worried that you have not stopped your behavior of randomly coming up with plans and go missing.

Just after the call, a new number pops up on the screen. It’s a lecturer informing you that he will be assessing you the next day. That means you have to go back to your work station. You have to leave the beautiful view of the lake behind and get back to the crowded madness which is the city of Nairobi. You break the news to the beauty and already notice the disappointment in her voice as she asks you if there is a chance that you might not go. Those are hard times, hard choices. You have to weigh your options. Well, you know you have to travel, and again there stands the lady you have been waiting to spend the evening with. Quite a tempting offer she gives you. You take in the breeze one last time as you stroll by the shore waiting to watch the sun setting in the horizon. Evening first approaches and you head back to the house bidding your better half a kiss goodbye, and just like that you are on the road.

My life happens in a flash. I rarely plan for stuff I do because it has proven time and time again that I do not get to those places. I know of people who plan their life in a diary and religiously stick to it. That is pure genius. I am one of those people who live life in the fast lane; you can wake me up from my sleep and tell me that we are heading for a trip, and I show up whatever the time. All I need is a reason and accessibility. Motivation is always on point.

I remember how I left my village the other day. I was ploughing the farm when I received a call informing me that there was a gig opening for some few days in Kisumu. I headed home, and even without taking a shower, I changed into fresh clothes and off I went. I told guys at home that I will return in the evening. Three weeks later, they are still waiting for me. I had left home without any set of clothes to change and yet here I was, going to spend one week in town. I am not sure if that’s crazy, I only know that I will survive. I would have to make do with what I have. Isn’t that what creativity is for?

One time seeing that beauty out, I had bent next to her. She then pulls up my shirt and on asking why she says she wanted to see the brand of boxer that I had on. I don’t know what she would say if after some days she would look and see that I am still in the Gildan brand. Or wait, did she notice and just keep quiet about it? I now have the sudden urge to ask her about it.

This has been me for a long time. In school, I didn’t know whether I would get back to the house by evening or not. I never knew where the sun would set in with me in. I stopped going to bashes because almost each and every one I attended, I would wake up in unfamiliar territories the next day. I had even started influencing my friends. One time a brother of mine got into a vehicle heading to school, and he ended up meeting a stranger who offered him some lunch she was carrying. After enjoying the scrumptious meal, he found himself at the lady’s house the following morning.

Living an adventurous lifestyle has its setbacks. I am missing out on opportunities in my career and even relationships. Having lost my focus on what I prime in life, I am now convinced that it was a phase that I am soon growing out of. This is the most serious statement I have ever written in my life.

After deep thought, I am considering quitting this life. It is not for me anymore. Times are changing, and responsibilities are piling up my way. If you were like me, what has helped you out throughout the months, or even years?

A Little Dawn In Sunset

This post will look at some changes that are happening with my friends, and the turning of new chapters. Changes so beautiful that I relate to a little dawn in sunset. And a good link at the end.

There is something about Kisumu, I really don’t know if I will say it’s the feeling of being home, or the warm weather (you can wear a vest at dawn in Kisumu), or the lake that stretches out wide to meet the heavens, or even the ass. There is ass in Kisumu, even though there might be a lower supply of face, you can never run short of ass. There are all type of asses (is this the plural of ass?) and they get eyes in droves. Looking at asses in Kisumu is like work to some. You don’t have to be out to note them, they are just calling for your attention. The other day, my cousin almost drove us into a ditch, because of looking at some ass. Damn it! I almost died because of an ass. I think I would be safe in Kisumu with a female driver, a straight one of course.

Another thing about being Kisumu is that your plans can change, and they change swiftly. I am flexible and good with impromptu stuff, a skill I learned in Kisumu. My plan was to get to the city, meet some few people, then go to Seme by the night. Instead, I found myself in Western Kenya and back to Kisumu, with Seme plans postponed until Sunday. I am now in Luanda. All these were not part of the plan.

Yesterday I met Princess, she is in Kisumu, after a very long time. I am yet to know what happens to me when I meet her because I still have to tell my stomach to keep check of the butterflies. We met and I bet even my stomach wanted to enjoy that beauty in peace. We called Elphas (our good friend) to join us for some bhajias. While having a chat, and catching up, he kept telling Princess, “I know you will write about this.” Princess can write about anything she experiences. I was with Elphas on that. However, she just laughed and said “don’t worry, I am good, but he might.” She was clearly referring to me.

Ladies and gentlemen, Elphas is single! I had to announce that. Even though to some break ups is no big deal, I saw him build that shit for years. He is not miserable (from what I saw), so I am being miserable on his behalf. In that spirit of brotherhood, I offered to help him out. One, I suggested we go out and drink hard, and maybe wake up the next day in an unfamiliar place with an appropriate ass next to him. This would have worked, except he doesn’t consume hard drinks. Two, I offered to go on a hunting spree, several rebounds would have been good for his body. He said he was already done with that phase. Unfortunately those were the only missiles I could get from my arsenal. (Paula, it would be good you write a note on behalf of Elphas to other eligible single ladies out there, it would be very good of you.) I have been single for over a year and it ain’t a joke, I know what it means. It also has it’s good side. It means freedom till you want something better than yourself.

Talking of good things, Paula Norah. One of the best people I have ever stumbled upon. Someone so dear to me, one of the most influential people in this son of the lake’s world. In this world, she is more popular than Uhuru or Raila. It is her birthday next week on 9th August, just hours after the general elections. She will be the last person to celebrate a birthday in Uhuru’s first term presidency.

So to my good friend and partner, I will be the first person to wish you a happy birthday (this am sure). You deserve to celebrate your day. The good work you have been doing here, keep it on in your next year. By the way, when you wake up and find this site looking better, mostly that’s her. If we could give you all a glimpse of the back door, you guys will feel sorry for her. She also comes through during those days when I feel like shit. That comes with the package of being a CEO, as I tell her.

I am wishing her a happy birthday this early because; One, I just like doing things first with her, Two, you never know what might happen with elections, we might lack connectivity and Three, she might not pick the call. So Paula Norah, like you say, you celebrate the whole month. Go ahead, do have the very best.

Your assignment, as our readers before we break for the election and get back here on 16th August, wish madam CEO a happy birthday and then you can catch her interview by Brian Mbanacho, one of the best creative writers in the country, here.


The other day we were having a talk with Princess; sharing on how friends and family are not into the business of sharing some stuff with us without having to remind us how we can turn anything into a story. I have a friend, whenever we are in a group, he tells the others to mind what they do or say because I might ‘broadcast them’. After doing a story on her house, how she was being deprived of sleep the day she decided to catch some, guys now think she will pull one again. Even I think that. Well, it’s good I don’t go saying things my Mum does to me. Like when I inform her of my birthday and the best she tells me is that she is busy. I am not planning to tell people about it. In fact, I won’t share it. I can’t tell on my mum, the spirits can not allow it. Well, what if she was the one doing the writing and had to write about me?

One thing that I know, if she were to keep a blog about me, she would definitely start from my birth. She won’t talk about the long nights they had before forming me, some things are better kept between the parties involved. She will dive straight to me causing her the wildest morning sickness she ever envisioned even in her wildest dreams, most definitely how she had dreamt about episodes of having me; how the thought of me growing inside her made her feel. The first time I kicked in her and how she went to share with Dad. She would go to him and tell him how his good work was kicking and strong. Then they would throw giggles at each other, as my Dad would move closer to the protruding belly to feel those kicks as well.

Some days after my birth and fast growing, she will wake up and talk about the relationships I keep. She would say how I was this soft collected kid. A kid who doesn’t pull tantrums at the wrong time and place, like a kid who throws tantrum when there is no one else in the vicinity. What is that? I mean when you want to pull a tantrum why not wait for visitors to come then pull the mother of all tantrums, you will definitely win. She would be taking the credits for making me grow in the right way. She will be talking about my first times, the first time I used potty, the first time the neighbor’s kid claimed that I hit him and the kind of talk that ensued between the parents. How I reacted when they brought home my younger brother and how after years, I would still breastfeed with my bro. I bet that explains the thing I have with boobs. You should also realize that denying me access to boobs is torture.

She must talk about my schooling life. The way I wore my school uniform for the first time ready to go to school only to return home crying that the sun was too much for me. If there is one thing that would have made me drop out of school when I was young, it was the sun. I mean if you have been to Kisumu, you understand what am talking about. I think scientists are right when they claim that the sun first hits the ground before it bounces back on us. Even though experiments rarely use human specimen, I am a walking experiment. I was able to beat the sun, am convinced nothing can stop me in my journey of knowledge acquisition now. I have this feeling that I am going to learn a lot and that I have some years of ‘class’ ahead. I also know my mum would muse over the report form talks we had. How I was a bright student (all parents thinks their kids are bright) who couldn’t just do it right, by right I mean ‘top 3.’ I do believe that explains the reasons why letters attended most of my parent days if not all.

One day she might decide to humor her readers by telling them stories of how she always won any ‘war’ between mother and son. She will talk about her eldest son asking her to pay back her debts. Debts that were actually her own money if you did a critical audit trail, therefore justifying her refusal to pay. She would write about how sometimes her attempts to instill discipline in her son were translated as wrong doings, and how she saw no point in apologizing for such moments.

How about the dreams she has for me? I do believe that parents have a given way that they picture their kids growing. They have everything laid out in their minds. How you should grow, how you will be wearing, the kind of people you should interact with, the kind of courses you will study, the life you lead and at what age. I know she would write about how worried she is that I am done with campus yet I have never taken someone home. How her efforts to try hook me up with ladies before has failed. I tell you if those attempted hook ups were to all to go through, then I would be a man of many ladies at the moment. I mean how can you afford to break a heart that is given to you by your Mum. Isn’t that the epitome of disrespect? I know she will be sharing how concerned she got when she had to inquire if my brother can be able to be laid in my house. In short, if I had chapni to officially open it. Given that she is free spirited, I don’t think she had a hard time asking, it’s only that she was getting worried I might to be slow. Which parent wishes for a slow kid for the elder son?

I know she won’t miss sharing on the way things are panning out as compared to the life she had envisioned for me. How she feels when at some point, I display the characters that shows that I am inclined to my Dad’s side. How does it feel like raising a kid she doesn’t want turning out like the love of her life? I mean how it feels when the best warning you can give to a son is, “this line that I see you take, I see you turning out like your dad.” Some days she will also talk of the times that I make her proud. The times when I do things until she feels like being a mum, to me specifically, is the best thing that ever happened to her.

I can tell you if my mum was to blog about me, the rants, the advices, the moments and just everything she would want to tell the world about me would be too much. She would name her blog something fancy like This is something she would think about daily, because she will be posting after an interval of 24hours. I know she would make many parents want to be parents and just have kids to share their lives with. She would have a good supportive audience and will be making her life from that point. She would feed me by writing about me.

Well, for now she doesn’t have a blog. She only has me. I run a blog where I can write things about her like I just did this. She doesn’t know about it just yet, she won’t even know I thought of her blogging about me. I would say my mum is more of this old school in a cool way. She is into everything modern except tech. How cool is that? My little bro knows how to take advantage of that. He once told some clingy lady trying to get to him through my Mum, “please don’t disturb my Mum, she is old, she can’t even read the texts you send her.” I won’t even have to worry about making sure we aren’t friends on social media because we never know when I can get wild. Now I am imaging when I explain to her my blog. She will tell me, “I bust my ass to pay all that money in campus for you, expecting to see you in television or the Standard and Nation only for you to come here with this joke!!” So for the sake of peace, let me keep this until I have had a good reason to present it to her. A better reason other than passion and from time to time touching lives.

All in all, if my Mum blogged about me, it would be the blog to watch for. It would give many a run for their money.


The more I grow the more my fears become vivid. They become clearer and do get me thinking, though not worried.  My fears originate from things I have seen and felt as well as things I am anticipating. I fear turning out like my dad. I fear poverty, that is my number pushing force in life. There is no glory in poverty. I fear being a failure in life, failure to me is when I will be unable to inspire anyone to greatness and when not even a single soul will owe making it in life to me. I also fear losing the one I love. I don’t give it much thought though, I don’t want to break my heart before it’s broken for real. Above all, exams are my top fear, the papers are a source of frustration and sickness. To me exams are pure torture.

Currently I am in the exam period, writing my last papers as an undergraduate. As I am facing my fear, pretending to be brave, let me present to you some of the lessons I have learned through out my life in campus;


1. Don’t be cool

There was a time I hit my head real bad on a slab when learning to skate. It is not like learning to stake is bad, the only problem is that I was doing it to appear cool. I wish I would have just taken it as an hobby or learning a new skill. It would be better getting hurt on that rather than when trying to be seen as cool. I even stopped trying to go to gym. It is just not my thing.


2. Live your life

There are times in second and third year when I was always on the pursuit of being influential. I wanted to create a name. Well it went well but at the expense of other things. I needed time to interact much and to keep face needs cash. I realized that if I was to keep that then I would run into debts and keep friends who don’t even know me. Well, I let that shit go and started keeping my low profile. I am a low key guy.


3. Have good vibes

Be nice to people, you are going to meet people with different stories. Have some sense of humor, it comes in handy when you got not lucky to have a great face and body and again more miserable that you are broke. Spreading good vibes will come in handy. Most of the people I have interacted with have always liked being with me for being free spirited in a good way and just being positive.


4. Be good at something

Get a craft that you will do. Whether it’s in sports, modelling, photography or just any creative. Be good at a damn thing. You will need in building who you are. People also tend to like people who have something going. You might also have some means of income in the process. Even though I tried out stuff like modeling, I ended up settling in what ticked to me most, writing. It is the craft I hope to improve on every other day.

5. Friends are important

Good friends are a gem. Some times you will want to be stupid, you will need your ass covered and some other days you will just want great company. Well, real friends always come in handy. Just be good to them. Just be a good friend it will pay off during the rainy days.

I have had real good friends in campus. They might have been a handful but they were the best. They were my moving form. Ohh any signs of disloyalty would be punished instantly. Losing me as a friend is a big loss on you, just so you know.


6. Create memories

Four years is a long time when just starting up. By then time has this one characteristic; it flies. You need to create memories that you will hold to. You will what them to even have good laughters later on.

I have had real good times in school, we visited my home with friends just because we wanted to. I had some real good nights made of beautiful people. The times I spent with Princess were really great. Princess always has this thing around her, it’s more of positive energy and awesomeness.


7. You cannot do everything

There are a lot of parties to attend. There are  a lot of groups to be members to. There are lots of pretty ladies. Well, you cannot have it all, just choose the ones that are worth it and keep at them.

I kept close to only those that I could stand, I let go of several people and companies. In the end it felt so peaceful.


8. It is not as serious just yet

It is campus, you are barely grown. You just left home the other day. Don’t take it all too serious. I think we will be forgiven more in campus for being asshole than it would happen outside school.

I did a lot of shitty stuff in school. Some I am not proud of but I don’t regret. I mean it ain’t as serious just yet.


9. Do what you want

Well being the land of freedom you are free to do what you want. Even with the knowledge that freedom comes with responsibility.

I did drugs, yeah, some times I would drink from Monday to Monday, the catch would be that I would realize that it was not economically, and health wise viable. Some days I did weed. All these I did because I wanted. So judge if you like but I did them when I was happy.


10. Cooperation is better than competition

We are all in a race. People have dreams to realize, goals to achieve. It gets to a point where you feel that people will get to their goals before you, so you start competition.

I have grown to get fulfillment in being an helping hand. I have realized that the world is too big and everyone can have their own space to grow. A progressive friend is a progress to you as well. You never know the days you will want a hand as well, most definitely an empty hand won’t make the difference.

11. One girlfriend at a time is probably not enough.

Well, who brings you a pool with a variety of beautiful clever ladies stack up together then wants you to pick just one. Don’t beat yourself over the fact that sometimes you might want to move through. Be free move, they also need the services.

That is only till you will get to meet this special being who will make all the others smell for you like rotten onions.



 I want to state the most obvious thing in this world. Before I got a name, I had to be born.

I was born in Kisumu city, at Lumumba Hospital. Back then, we stayed in Nubian, before my dad became his other side and we had to move back to the village. I was born at a time when pressure was piling up on my parents on the need to have a baby. If the royal families can give the prince a period of one year after the wedding to pave the succession way, imagine an African set up, deep in the village, back when kids in itself were a symbol of prosperity. My dad being the first-born boy, he needed to be quick. Four years into marriage with nothing to show for it. In the fifth year a white baby (I was extra light skin at birth) appeared. Being a pride of my dad, a relief to my mum and a source of joy to my grandparents, my birth was cemented by naming me after the abled head of the family, my grandfather (paternal).

We moved back to the village in 2001, just when I was starting my primary school. I was a small, short boy. Most people would say I was at the mouth of the ground, with a head looking like a hammer (this head!). It is in the village that I had very good interactions with the man I was named after.

I used to watch my grandfather take his seat; a wooden version of the seats used in WWE Wrestling. He always sat in front of the house under the scorching sun next to a black water tank while facing the compound as if he was watching over his home. He shaved his beards every Saturday. Assembling his shaving tool was the most technical thing I saw. He would dismantle it from the handle, separate the head and put the Panda Razors (my head would be shaved using razor blades) in between. He would then apply soap on his grey beards after which he would keenly shave them. All this time I would be on standby, in case he needed something. I was an assistant. The process made me want beards too. I thought that shaving ones’ own beards was sacred. I didn’t know that when I would have mine I would be going to an executive barbershop (after much pressure) and have a cut after which three different liquids would be used by some cute lady to massage my face. At that point, I usually feel like I have it all in life. When in real life my competition, at the moment, is the church mouse.

My grandfather owned a black radio. It hung above his official seat in the house. He would set the radio at a particular channel and you could not dare change it. Even a slight movement of the tuner and return to the exact point would be noticed. I thought he had a special way of communicating to the gadget. Back before Ramogi FM even appeared, he mostly put KBC Kisumu. Every Kenyan listened to KBC, we had no option. It was suicidal to talk during news time. We would religiously keep quiet. Apart from the radio, his other most guarded property was his bicycle. I never saw anyone touching the bike. The bike was respected in the same way men respect their balls.

That man was full of wisdom. In his counsel, he held the whole family together. I learnt that in 1995, the year I was born, my dad got a Visa to further his studies in the USA. Grandfather could hear none of it. According to him, he knew it would be the last time he would ever see his son; it was like selling his son to America. The first time I was told the story I felt bad. I thought going abroad was the real deal. I believed that people could only make it abroad. I had not seen any of my people make it in Kenya, like I can see at the moment. I had no one to look up to. All the good stories told were of people who lived in America. My mum kept telling my dad how her people were in America, whenever they had some heated exchange. It is only until later that I realized the wisdom in my grandpa’s decision. I mean he made the decision for me. Otherwise, from the dad I knew, I would have been born into this world a son who did not know his dad. Someone who would only hear stories about his dad. I wouldn’t take that for anything in the world.

I was born after the old man had retired. He used to work in Uganda, back when East Africa Community was still intact. He returned to Kenya to take care of his home and livestock. That man loved animals. He would talk with passion about a cow as if he was taking about human beings. He had a specific way he would want his animals handled and any different move would make you collide. In the whole village, his cows would be the first to be taken out to the fields and last to be returned. One time I saw him shed tears when a donkey died. It was a very old donkey that to me I felt it was high time it died; to him it felt so sad. I am yet to learn how people get attached to animals that much. Personally, I don’t even like pets. He really liked my kid brother because he also liked to look after cattle. The day I saw him angered the most was when someone beat up my brother. That person ‘alilala ndani’ and he hated him forever.

This man held tradition at heart; he knew what was right or wrong in the society, together with a remedy. In his words, he would have wanted me to have a Simba when in class eight. One of the reasons why I liked him. As said earlier, he was the voice of wisdom among us. He held our family together soundly. The go to guy in case of any dilemma. He was also religious, he had an Apostolic Church build just next to the gate of the home. Even though of late it looks more of abandoned. It looks so lonely to me. I wonder if people still worship in it, personally I moved.
My old man never took alcohol and he always took pride in that. He hated alcohol and every other hard drugs with passion. Just as much as he hated dreadlocks. You can imagine the disappointment he had when all his sons turned out drunkards. I would hear him talk of it especially when an uncle would return home so wasted. Sometimes I wish I would be able to talk to him and tell him, “it is not your fault; all you can do is be a good parent, which you are and give the children the ability to make their own independent decisions, so don’t beat yourself over it.” Too bad, he is not around to hear me say that to him. I am yet to experience parenthood meaning every advice I will give at first, will be drawn from hearsay. I am not that wise.

I was named after a great man (don’t worry about the fact that I at times can be an asshole of a being). This name, I will preciously guard. If I were to change my name, I would retain Martin but gladly let go of the last one, not because I don’t like it, but because my name betrays me. It is hard being a Luo in this country. I am sure if he could see me now he would be proud of his name.


Being born and bred in the village as a first born son is one of the best things one can be lucky enough to have. It is mere an accident of birth yet it has several packages. You come second only to your dad in the hierarchy ladder. It comes with loads of privileges, but then you have to know privileges comes with responsibilities. When much is given, much will be expected in return. As the eldest son you are the de facto signatory of all transactions at home even in your absentia. Not even a tree can be cut at home without your information and permission. Those people will not go planting without giving details of the seeds used, whether certified and the duration expected for them to mature.

It gets to an age where you will need to go to your house and a good house(simba) will be erected for you at the lower end of the home. A strategic position to act as security of the home and also to enable you sneak in whoever you are with, with confidence that you are not being seen. Spoiler alert: They will know even if you bring her at midnight. Your age not withstanding, as long as you are an elder son you are old enough right from birth. Even before you come of the right age, your people will expect you to make sure the house is active. Some smoke should be seen from the house, a smoke not caused by lighting a fire. They need to start seeing you bring along different samples of the daughters of Eve, one to assure them that you will keep the family lineage on and two, to see your taste and know if you will bring forth good looking kids. It is believed good looking people have it easier in the society. When you take a different route and fail to bring along someone, they start wondering if you are really a man. They even start suggesting hook ups.

After a good period of deciding, you settle on this lady who has had your heart for the longest time you know. It was not really hard knowing she is the one you want for life. She is the type of lady who will not cook in your house the first time she is visiting. She will cross her leg and tell you to your face when you dare ask her to cook.

“I am a visitor remember, so atleast do me the honours.”

You will establish that this is not just your regular girl, she is a precious being. You will grow closer as you sought to know her better. She is someone you don’t rush; you take your sweet time to understand her. You know you want her to be yours in the long run but it is not easy. It is like a marathon, not the Usain Bolt seconds stuff. This one would require perseverance, focus and hard work because having her in the long run is a motivation big enough. Hope. You will be assured she will hold you down when need be. She is a good a person and everything she touch flourishes. Even you when touched in the literal sense you flourish, the blood movements to the downer sides tells it all.

When time is right you take her to your good friends who will immediately like her and tell you not to let her go. They will already be planning you romantic nights, in an attempt to make sure that you don’t fuck up. After which,you take her home to your people for vetting. They need to see if she has the abilities good enough for their son. Is she someone who can be a first of the daughter in laws? Does she cook right? Apparently their son needs to add some weight. They want to know if she won’t wash fish using detergents and chapatis don’t taste like wood. You  are not worried about that though, she is a great cook and somehow, people just like her. The visit goes well and your mum tells you, “you let her go, never step foot again in this home and don’t even think about ever talking to me again, not even in my worst.” Isn’t that all you wanted to hear after all? She also introduces you to her frends and family. Let’s say things go well. After sometime you are tie the knot.

There you are living together as life partners. Hoping and working for a happy stint together forever. Atlast the sacred friendship has been permanently bonded.

One day in the middle of your usual chats, she gets that serious face on and shoots up, “will we stay in this house forever or are we going to move after some time?”

You know at that moment that she needs a better place. Some place where she will authoritatively call hers and give you those commands on where to place your dirty socks when you return home. You will keep forgetting and throw them around as you enter the house. You will get on her nerves sometimes.

“The other day I told you to place your socks in the laundry basket when you remove them.”

“Yeah, you did”

“And then?”

“I have dropped them around, I think I missed the laundry basket. Can it be moved next to the door?”

An emoji face, then later a look saying,”if only I didn’t love you this much!”

She wants a place where she can peacefully have those days when she just want to sleep through the day on her off days. A place where you can plant trees together for occasions and put scientific and local name tags on them, with the name of the one who planted it. Where you can host friends without causing disturbance to the others. Above all, you can easily give her that one hour long foreplay without worrying that someone might bulge in unwelcome. After which she will wake up to breakfast in bed, your romantic side will not catch even a little slumber. You also need to make a ground for soft landing when you will get on her bad side next time. All she wants is peace and an environment to prosper. A place where you are free to be you and do you. A place to be lazy without being scolded and work your ass off when you decide to. A place where you can make mistakes and learn without anybody judging. As long as you will have each other for support, you are ready to face the world. You can achieve all you want to.

It happens you had also been thinking of moving. Therefore you already have information of where you would want to move. You know that ultimately she will want a home in a cool area, a beautiful house with a kitchen garden. You are aware she cant stand heat and her comfort is top priority. A place she will be proud to park her Prado in the garage next to the house. A good place to raise your cute kids (the cute is given, she is pretty). Some place where you will watch the orange rays of the sun as it settles even in your old age as you watch your grandchildren play around. Thank God the sun will never grow old or tired. Just before then, you know you have to take steps to get there. You believe in doing good at the lower steps of a ladder headed to a much higher target.

You guys pull resources and see to it that the new place you are moving to is well built and that you are okay with the design and plan. You get someone trustworthy who will make the ideas on your head come to life. After some good work, your house is ready and you are ready to face life in it. You bring along some furniture from the previous house that still looks polished and throw away the ones that would not resonate to the new house.

You have both vowed to give your all to have the best home. You don’t just want a house, you want a home. A place where you will have family around and keep them entertained all through. It is the place they will think of when they think of fun. People think of fun all the time meaning the home will be a beehive of activities. They won’t have to ask for permission or inform you first before coming. It will be their home as well. You might have kids who will be cared for and brought up in the best way possible. You will have friends coming over from time to time.

This home is our new website. We hope to make it a home for most of you. A place where you will come to be entertained with the stories and teachings we will be keeping at a consistent supply for you. The house we have left is the free site on WordPress. It was a good place for a start but the limitations made us realize we needed to move. The man of the house is yours truly, Lewis Martin. The jewel he got for you is the one and only partner in writing and a good friend in life, the most beautiful Paula Norah. You guys overwhelmingly approved of her when she came to be part of this. Salute to Ted Odera for being the architect behind the design and building work around. Thanks for the good work. We will be having guests from time to time in the form of guest bloggers. As members of the family, you need to be good to them. Appreciate them and say thank you when they bring goodies. When moved you can give them reviews and tell them if you want them to return next time. Our kids might come with time in form of other ventures in writing. From to time to time we might have to run copies that are pro marketing. I hope you understand it takes money to refill the fridge and pay for bills. Though be assured we will work with brands whose ideologies we believe in.

Expect anything from us. We are diverse. We are open minded. And we are as crazy as crazy can get. Bring your friends along. The many the merrier. We have resources for everyone. Our love for you is given. Keep it here. Keep it at PepperLife. Let’s grow together.

Welcome Home.


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