Can the real Njoki Chege stand up? Well, here I go
Today I will attempt, to the best of my ability, to answer the most popular questions from readers who take their time to email me, fans who walk up to me when I am on dates (don’t ever do that again) and haters — real or imagined — who have opinions about what I write.
Your common questions — understandably — include: “Do you mean what you write?” or “Where do you get your ideas from?” or “Is Njoki Chege really the city girl or is it just an alter ego?” And, my all-time favourite: “Are you mad?”
I am not mad. A little crazy, maybe. This column, dear readers, is a job. A job like any other. A job I probably enjoy a little more than I should. Of course, I have never met the Wednesday deadline. Most Friday afternoons find me absolutely clueless about what to write for the next day. All the same, this space is my little heaven down here. And I love it!
Yes, I mean the stuff I write. Crazy and controversial as they may sound, these are my thoughts, my beliefs and my values (or lack thereof). Deal with it. I won’t deny there are times I just want to poke a few people, you know — chokoza. But, often, I am a woman of my word. I mean what I say, and I say what I mean.
But I am not like this in person. No really, don’t turn the page, please. You have to believe me. While I believe in everything I write here, while I would defend every single point I have ever made on this page, I am not the brutal, tough-as-nails city girl many have met on this page.
I am an extremely shy, Jesus-loving girl whose idea of fun is walking to and fro, for 23km, from Enkasiti to Olooloitikosh (Kajiado) under the unforgiving, sweltering Kajiado heat on Saturdays. I hate noisy clubs with all my heart, can’t dance to save my life and I love chatting up monkeys in Karura.
PERSONAL LIFE
Like any other writer, I get my ideas from all over. Readers ask me to comment on issues, friends tell me to write about things they have observed. I like to think of myself as open-minded and I never turn down a great idea.
Why do you care? And why am I saying all this? Because — and this is actually why I am really writing this piece — I am tired of scaring away people who see me through the prism of this column. The men folk, especially. I hope the extremely brilliant, nice guy with a dashing smile and a golden heart that I met the other day is reading this. Do you hear me, troublemaker?
This column has a life of its own. Sometimes, the drama this column creates has spilled over into my personal life, but I am not complaining, it comes with the territory. I like to take it in my stride, pray a lot and live off God’s unending grace.
What do my friends think about this column? Well, I have a tight circle, and I like to keep it that way, but most of my friends think I lost my mind ages ago, and this column is proof enough.
Do you know that people have sent emissaries to my friends to ask me to quit or “tone done”? I just find it funny that people who have never written a column in their lives are usually the first to ask you to quit.
I hope I won’t have to quit any time soon. Unless those guys upstairs decide otherwise. Oh, and a quick one guys, this week, will you please spare our good old public editor your hate mail, complaining about this column? I have tried to behave this week, no?
As many of you have asked me — have I not yet been stoned by fat women or Subaru drivers whom I have often slandered in this column?
HOT MESS
Let me shock you. Few people put a face to the caricature up there. Mostly because this caricature looks better than the real Njoki Chege. My teeth are not as neatly arranged as they look up there. Such a hot mess! How do I handle the heat from all the “haters” (real or imagined) on social media? Actually, I don’t have to.
The few times this column trends online, I am usually out for one of my walks in Enkasiti-Kajiado, where there is poor network, or coiled up on the couch with that nice man, “watching movies”.
There are insults hurled at me online, but let’s be honest here, I probably deserve them. I am not exactly nice here, so I take the insults like a true Kiambu woman.
Oh, and the personal attacks? I don’t take anything personal from anyone who does not know me personally.
I can’t send this to the editor without thanking the wind beneath my wings. You, my readers, whom I deeply respect and love, are the reason I write weekly.
I appreciate your support, critiques and criticism throughout the years. Your long emails make my Monday mornings and your tweets and memes are hilarious.
I will bother you no more with my personal musings.
