How to do a fabulous wedding on a small budget

Sage magazine shows you 5 ways to cut corners and still have your dream wedding.

Affluent Kenyans spare no expense in making their children’s nuptials a once in a lifetime affair (see separate story on wedding planners). One business mogul spent Ksh28 million on his son’s wedding. The event was held at the Windsor Golf Hotel and Country Club but what really drove up the cost was the traditional ceremonies held at the bride’s and groom’s homes, which were catered by Sarova Hotels.

At the traditional Itaara ceremony where the bride’s family visits the groom’s home to see where she will be living, everything was shipped in from Nairobi, including DJ, sound, flowers and there was even a bar where alcoholic drinks of every description were available to the guests, who comprised the crème de la crème of Kenyan society.

For us ordinary mortals who cannot afford such lavish spending, there are a few tricks you can employ to cut costs and still have a fabulous wedding. Continue reading


Encounter with the GSU

I went to great lengths to avoid the GSU during my 4 years at the University of Nairobi’s Lower Kabete Campus. We called them the ‘fanya fujo uone’ squad because of the damage they could inflict on your body, and the enthusiasm with which they went about their task of breaking up demonstrations, leaving broken and bloody bodies in their wake.

While many students prepared for demonstrations by collecting stones and other missives to hurl at the cops, my preparations were of an entirely different sort – to facilitate immediate flight should the need arise, by the shortest and most direct route out of the campus.

The official policy was that the police engage rioting students outside the gate with the primary goal of driving them back into the school compound and clear the road to facilitate traffic flow. The first responders, the Administration (APs) and regular police, usually adhered to this rule. But after a few hours of battle on the road, the GSU would be called in and then all bets were off. The fanya fujo uone squad chased their quarry right into the university hostels, determined to beat them to a pulp. The administration couldn’t stop the GSU from entering the premises and everyone knew it.

Well not everyone. A few geeks who spent most of their time in the library clearly never got the memo. They were always caught napping when the mayhem found them. I’m all for chopping, but for Pete’s sake, books never protected anyone against teargas.

For the rest of us, the minute we got wind of a riot – half the time we didn’t even know what it was about, having been decided by the student leaders at the main campus – we started by dressing appropriately. T-shirt, jeans, ngomas. Comfortable for running and with no laces to get entangled in weeds or trip us up if they got loose. No handbag. Your national ID and some cash in the back pocket. A handkerchief or tissue went into the other back pocket. A tube of lip gloss or Vaseline tucked into the front pocket. Hey, a girl needs to maintain her appearance. Getting caught in the middle of a riot is no excuse for chapped lips. Hair wrapped securely in a ponytail. Perhaps a light sweater tied around the waist in case it got cold.

Preparations complete, it was now just a matter of monitoring the situation on the front line and getting ready to flee at a moment’s notice. We called it kukaa radar, chonjo. We passed time playing cards or just horsing around in the dorms. Then a war cry would rent the air. “GSU wameingia. Run!”

The light hearted play ended instantly and the exodus began. Like rats from a sinking ship, everyone headed for the exits and from there, the quickest route out of the campus. Those on the ground floor didn’t bother using the door, just jumped out of the window and took off like a rocket. The main gate was a no go zone at this point. As any university student will tell you, one of the first things you must do when you join campus is find the panya routes out of the premises should the need arise.

My friends and I just followed Moses Mbugua, who was raised in Wangige and knew all the back routes out of the campus. We fanned out like grasshoppers into the maize fields of the surrounding farmers, making a bee line to Mwimuto, the nearest road where we could catch a mathree to the city centre and safety. Continue reading

Stop telling writers NEVER to give away their work

Ever noticed that the writers who tell other writers never to give away their work for free are usually established, successful writers who earn lots from their craft?

I get it. At that level, you’re already well known unlike the rest of us who are still struggling to get our work in front of the right people. I would never suggest that writers continuously give away their sweat. If someone keeps asking you to write for free beyond a sample article or two, that’s clearly exploitative behaviour.

With millions of writers and billions of blogs, it’s hard to break through the clutter even when your articles are smoking. A well placed article on a high traffic website, newspaper or magazine could just be the ticket to helping more people find you.

And it happens in other industries too. I interviewed Jua Cali for the November issue of Sage magazine and he told me he pounded the pavements for 2 years, giving his CD to DJs in radio stations just to get airplay. That was followed by a few gigs for which he wasn’t paid. But it was important to put his music out there and build his brand.

Even established companies have promotions where they have free giveaways to help promote awareness of their brands. Why should it be any different for writers? Some of the most successful have promotions where they bundle a best seller with a new release or vice versa in a buy-1-get-1-free deal for readers.

I read somewhere that you can have the best product or service, but if people don’t know about it; it may as well not exist. There’s a reason we call them best-selling books. It’s not about how well they’re written but whether they are selling. There are millions of shoddy titles out there earning a pretty penny, while well written books gather dust on bookshelves.

Marketing your work is a key part of the job and putting your stories in front of the target audience, especially in the early years when you don’t have a large platform, is part of the process.

Bikozulu: The man behind the mask

His blog is the most popular in Kenya with thousands of subscribers. His influence is such that a single blog post helped raise millions for a perfect stranger to get cancer treatment. Yet few know who Jackson Biko really is. Magunga Williams takes a stab at unravelling the mysterious man.

The first time I asked Biko for an interview, he turned me down. He said he does not take interviews, which I found rather paradoxical given that one of his fortes is conducting interviews. I figured out that he was scared of the boot being on the other foot. He has been conducting interviews in this city, talking to business moguls and industry leaders, undressing them, making them shed their corporate veils and opening them up to the world. And now here I was, asking to do to him the same thing he does to other people. He cringed, understandably.

However, when I finally got him to agree to talk to me and asked him about this, he said it is because he does not like photos. Imagine that! Photos! I had to swear by my honour not to make him take any pictures of himself. And therein lies the allure of this man, Jackson Biko. He is known by many. Loved and criticised with the same fiery passion. Yet if we were to line him up at a parade and ask his readers to pick him out, very few would be able to.

He likes it that way, this Biko. He likes to be at the centre of events without being the centrepiece. Meaning, he wants to be a fly on the wall so that he can watch people and occurrences unspool and later capture them in words. His exact words were, “I do not like to be the eye of the storm even though sometimes I create a storm.”

He tells me that when he is talking to someone at, say a bar, and this person does not know who he is, the said individual will be more open. They will have a free conversation. However, the moment he mentions his name and the guy recognises he is that writer, then everything changes. No more candid conversations. All you get is smoke and mirrors. Continue reading

Wordsmith: Wangethi’s Second Act

Wangethi Mwangi, former Editorial Director at Nation Media Group, and now Senior Advisor at African Media Initiative, shares insights on the biggest stories of the last three decades, his personal interactions with two Kenyan presidents and how the Internet is shaping the future of media in Africa.

By Wanjiru Waithaka

Photography: Emma Nzioka, AMI, Wangethi family

It was a bitter cold day with sheets of rain pouring down relentlessly. Warm air from the car’s interior fogged up the windows, matching the fog outside that had reduced visibility to just a few metres. The rain was a steady drumbeat on the roof as the car sped towards the coffee farms of Limuru, making good time on a road devoid of traffic, which had been cleared to allow passage of the president’s motorcade.

The late Juvénal Habyarimana, third President of the Republic of Rwanda, was in Nairobi on an official visit. Wangethi Mwangi, a trainee sub-editor with the Standard newspaper, was in a vehicle a few metres behind him, together with photographer Frank Wanjohi.

The motorcade had just passed the shopping centre at Banana when the storm felled a tree which hit electric cables, sending them crashing to the ground where school children waved miniature flags as they cheered the president. Three died on the spot. The Standard driver brought the car to a screeching halt at Wangethi’s urging as the rest of the motorcade sped on. Wanjohi leaped out of the car and began taking pictures, cupping the lens with his hands to shield the camera from the rain.

Wangethi started interviewing onlookers while taking down details of the scene. The police arrived soon after and the dead and injured were taken to Nazareth Hospital.

Back in the newsroom, he banged out his copy on an ancient type writer on six sheets of paper separated by carbon paper. The copies usually went to the news editor, chief sub-editor and the editor-in-chief among others. He pulled the sheets out of the typewriter, pleased with his handiwork.

His editor wasn’t impressed. He immediately put fresh sheets of paper into his own typewriter and taught Wangethi his first crucial lesson in journalism – how to write an intro. Wangethi had started the story thus: ‘Three school children were electrocuted yesterday…’. The editor typed: ‘Tragedy struck deep in the heart of Kiambu yesterday…’ and rewrote the entire first paragraph.

The story went to the front page giving Wangethi his first byline in the paper. A person unfamiliar with the workings of a newsroom would expect that Wangethi would be reprimanded for abandoning the Habyarimana assignment but instead he received praise for spotting a breaking story and following his instincts. After all, the paper could always use copy from the Kenya News Agency (KNA) for the Habyarimana story.


This was one of two incidents early in his career that shaped the way he approaches journalism even today. The other also involved a dignitary, but was the complete opposite of the stellar performance he displayed on the Habyarimana assignment.

The UN had just opened its Centre for Human Settlements (Habitat) office in Nairobi and Arcot Ramachandran, Under-Secretary General had been appointed its first Executive Director. The late Mitch Odero, news editor at the Standard, asked Wangethi to go to the airport and cover his arrival.

“Obviously, it was a big thing and yet I had no idea about Habitat and no time to research. He just gave me a car and photographer and asked me to go and report the story.” Wangethi racked his brain wondering how he was going to pull off the assignment.

“Calestous Juma, a reporter for the Nation, saved the day,” Wangethi recalls. Juma, now a respected professor at Harvard University, knew his subject. “He had studied a lot about the environment and was already acquainted with Ramachandran, so he fired all the questions while the rest of us took notes.” Juma wrote an excellent story for the Nation.

Wangethi describes his own story as passable. “I promised myself I would never go to an assignment unprepared, and would ensure anyone working under me was properly briefed before going out on assignment,” he says.

Meeting Wangethi for the first time is a confusing experience. His ability to smell a breaking story from miles away is legendary but he has a reputation for being a ruthless taskmaster who thunders when angry, is intimidating to his juniors and flat out arrogant even with superiors.

Managing editors who walked around the newsroom like they owned it, inspiring fear in juniors themselves, were said to be reduced to stuttering wrecks in Wangethi’s presence, almost as if their brains had been lobotomised or cloned such that they were unable to communicate in anything more than a mumble.

Kwamchetsi Makokha, a Nation columnist and communications consultant puts it thus: “With Wangethi, you have 60 seconds to make a good impression. If you don’t earn his respect when he first meets you, you’ll never earn it, no matter what you do in subsequent weeks, months or years.”

My first impression of him is a friendly social gentleman with a mild personality and not the least bit intimidating. Where is the monster I was warned about?

Wangethi laughs at this saying that is not his management style but when pressed, he admits there is some truth to it. “I was very demanding, very authoritative and also very impatient. That’s what I would call the extreme side of me, but if I liked you, I could be very patient, understanding and accommodating.”

He shouted when upset especially when someone goofed on a story. What is that common refrain ‘Lawyers jail their mistakes, doctors bury theirs, but journalists publish theirs for the entire world to see’? In such a high pressure environment where deadlines are critical, and reporters have only hours to put stories together, it’s perhaps understandable that an Editorial Director would lose his cool when errors slipped into the page.

After all, he was responsible for everything that went into the paper and was the one people sued when unhappy about a story. This sometimes extended to advertising where he was blamed when readers considered an ad offensive, never mind that ads were the preserve of the advertising department.

Wangethi also concedes that he can be very dismissive and has in the past denied someone a job in the newsroom or a promotion within a few minutes of meeting them. He says he goes with his gut and has no apologies about it. This confidence in himself, which has thrust him into leadership positions in his journalism career, has its roots in his childhood. Continue reading

Cashing in on ‘I Do’

I love weddings (watching them on TV actually; attending them, not so much) and I’ve always wondered, why do they have to cost so much? In the February issue of Sage magazine, we reflect on the cost of saying I Do to the one you love.

It features conversations with wedding planners, business opportunities created by the wedding industry and 5 ways in which savvy but cash strapped brides are saving money and still getting a fabulous wedding. That is one article you don’t want to miss!

This issue also features football legend Joe Kadenge whose compelling story by the incomparable Owaahh is a must read. Our finance writer shows you how to invest offshore and Kithaka wa Mberia, one of Kenya’s most successful authors shares tips on how to make money from books.

Along with that is our usual sprinkling of articles on personal finance, fashion, style, decor, fitness, food, motoring and the arts.

Sage is only Ksh400 bob and is available in Nakumatt and Chandarana supermarkets. A digital version is available on Magzter.

Have a fabulous read!