Who Or What Is The Mith?

By • May 6th, 2011 • Category: Entertainment

Who or what is The Mith? To properly answer this question, I took a bus ride to Kooki Buddu. If you haven’t been to Kooki Buddu, the bus will not set off till someone has 3 hens running free, the guy in the back seat is carrying his goat and saying things to it and some guy has tried to sell to you some green liquid that he says cures everything from tooth ache to erectile dysfunction.

On getting to Buddu, I labored with the directions but finally got to Mzee Sendikandiwala’s place. I found him chilling under a tree a short distance away from a cluster of huts, eyes closed, bobbing his head. Just as I respectfully bowed my head to try to get his attention, he said “How can you hate from the outside, when you can’t even get in…” (Lets out a maniacal laugh from hell’s loins)

“Yellow model chic, yellow bottle sipping, yellow food eating…ladies love me…I wax it all off…”

From the words I begun to think he was listening to “Look at me now”, Chris Brown. He then started to convulse, uttering words I couldn’t make out, slurping all over the place.

I moved in and tapped him. He woke, as if from a trance.

“Oh, (Removing ear phones) was singing along to Busta Bus baby.”

I went through a lengthy introduction. Mzee Sendikandiwala, I was told, is a resource on what people were like back in the day. So we get down to the question  of the day.

“The Mith? I know the Mith very well,” he started

“She used to sing many songs, like “Suck it to ya”, like “Work it”, like “Get your freak on” where she spits and she was the only competition Jolie had lip-wise. I think she was dating…”

“Mzee, that’s Missy Elliot. I asked about the Mith”, I interrupted him.


Is not Mith

“I’m sorry, my hearing is not what it used to be. Yes, the Mith. I know him also. He used to be such a dependable child. We all knew him for his mad chicken-chasing skills. Whenever we needed to catch chicken, we’d call him. He’d chase it non-stop for days, till it tires. He was also into break dance. He joined every competition this little village could offer. He was an awful dancer but we could not bring ourselves to say it to him. He also usually had bad jokes. He still uses them, you know those ones where you laugh alone but stretch out the laugh in the hope that the other person will laugh too. Yea, those ones. I still hear from him. He is now on radio, he does a show every evening. He…”

“Mzee, that is Jimmy Jones. I asked about the Mith…he is a rapper? You know, he drops rhymes…he…”

“ahhh (nods head) that one. He grew up on another village. I heard he had mad skills. Wait, isn’t his show tonight?”

I asked to leave, fazed by an unfruitful trip to the end of the world.

Let me let the man, The Mith, introduce himself.

Music In The Highest, I supply it…”

“Lights, camera, satisfaction, that means action, that means passion….”

“..I sling ganja on earphones and radios…”

“..not kin to them, I am King to them…”

“…I’m not one for the limelight/ I am for the high beams/ Dan Brown, each verse is a movie scene…”

“I have no choice but to be fly/ nose up in the air/my jeans say it, you should Levi…” (Leave-I, geddit? Ah, genius stuff)


The Mith has a show at GC tonight. If you are into crisps, know this; His latest jam, Fire, has been chilling on Channel O, marked ‘Crispy Fresh’.  Now first get a load of this goodness:



That jam will also be done tonight.

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