One Yokozuna, Two Yokozuna...Dead.

Nothing is more attractive to most men than a bottle of fermented sugars packed in a bottle. It is what most men live for, for most men liquor is their first spouse, in fact some men even go to the point of having children with their bottles. Unfortunately liquor makes a very obsessive lover, the kind of lover men fantasize about, the lover who is never tired, the one who is always ready and always willing. Liquor is the lover who never gossips, she never has mood swings and she never nags, always obedient and always satisfying. It all sounds so romantic, so blissful, doesn’t it? Unfortunately the world was never made for men to enjoy, the world was made for men to be consumed, to be eaten, men are eaten by their women, by their children and by their bottles.

Let me tell you a story then, once upon a time, there was a place called Nyahururu, Nyahururu was a backward place, a place of rolling hills, red soils, people with funny accents and mud huts.Nyahuru was the place where everyone was a villager, everybody had patched clothes, everybody called each other wanyumba . In Nyahururu the girls had red eyes, cracked toes and brown teeth. It was the place where boredom was born and backwardness was invented. In Nyahururu time never moved, everyday was a Tuesday and everybody ate boiled gravel. Welcome to Nyahururu.

It was a period of blissful courting, all over the trenches men slept in submission to the Charms of Yokozuna, in dingy dens men sat on lonely benches gently curdling their Yokozunas. Love had never been like this before, there were no flowers left in the village because every day was valentines and Yokozuna needed to be bought flowers, some bought rings for Yokozuna, some paid dowry for Yokozuna and others moved into the den to live with Yokozuna.

For a long time the men of Nyahururu were bored sick, the girls were calicos with brown teeth and cracked soles. Then the men of Nyahururu found a savior, a new day had come, Yokozuna had been invented. It was love at first sight; it was then that many men found the loves of their lives. The joy was untold, It was a period of blissful courting, all over the trenches men slept in submission to the Charms of Yokozuna, in dingy dens men sat on lonely benches gently curdling their Yokozunas. Love had never been like this before, there were no flowers left in the village because every day was valentines and Yokozuna needed to be bought flowers, some bought rings for Yokozuna, some paid dowry for Yokozuna and others moved into the den to live with Yokozuna. Yokozuna had conquered all.

Romance had never been this blissful, love had never been this sweet, Yokozuna had conquered hearts, men could be seen sleeping on trees holding on to Yokozuna, but love is a poison, all the great affections of history ended tragically, Romeo and Juliet ended in mortality, Hitler and Eva brown committed suicide, It was now Nyahururu’s turn, Nyahururu had long been obscure, it had never been recognized, It had been the place everybody had forgotten, but Yokozuna remembered them and Yokozuna would take them…