Sunday 1 November 2020

LUIZQUINCY.BLOGSPOT.COM; WHERE CREATIVITY SEALS YOU A DEAL

LUIZQUINCY.BLOGSPOT.COM; WHERE CREATIVITY SEALS YOU A DEAL
|Promotional write-up|

Never before has there been as much demand for technology as there is in recent times. And this is one crucial factor I input through all the write-ups I handle in this blog. 

luizquincy.blogspot.com handles diverse manuscripts ranging from creative writing |investigative features| entertainment features| Drug Harm Reduction Peer Education under Reachout Centre Trust.

In all my write-ups, I employ accurate, fair, balanced and factual-based content. I source my working ideas from music I hear, real world videos on social media, magazines and travelling sojourns which I use also to beef up my stories. To this end, all write-ups to this blog are nature-oriented and critically engaging to the brain.

I come from Shanzu in the outskirts of Mombasa town; while thinking of my content before branding my personal blogsite, I hoped I could use my skills in journalism including magazine/Newsletter designing to hit hard on the problems bringing us back as a society. I would reason when I was much younger. Like why are some places so developed as compared to others and why is development not uniform in most urban setups?

Well, it turned out I had answers to these questions. It has one or two to do with inequality in resource threshold and capital imbalance. If NGO's, CBO's and CSO's were allowed to operate tax-free, I opine a lot of growth could be evident at the grassroot level.
|Producer Super Melodies of Mega Family Records Academy|

Such solution focussed topics are what luizquincy.blogspot tries to do, and branding of the site was done to enable the interface be user friendly and easy to navigate through.


Retrospectively, I have managed to steal few techniques for local based artistes thereby enlightening them on how they can get places with their music only if they don't forget hardwork, patience and persistence. Such skills I managed to acquire in 2019 when I interned at Baraka FM as a radio producer.

Today, I'm glad that I have helped market my music producer Super Melodies through my convergence on social media platforms. The idea paid well when my exposure earned him a studio job at Nairobi and his current job as a music producer. My skills revolve around adding sound voices as effects on music, choosing Melodies for different music genres, segue editing on radio, uplifting presenter mentions and editing audio files.

Such skills when I shared them out to producers helped them understand radio production better as well as doubling their skills on music production since radio and music production are merely like siblings.

Albeit dealing so much with entertainment especially music, the blogsite equally runs political stories that cut within Uasin Gishu county where I pursue my degree program.

 I source news everywhere I traverse and interview selected sources before scripting any story. A story I did here on this blog headlined: DELIVER MORE ON INFRASTRACTURE; STOP POLITICKING gained much replys on social media handles @Quincy Kombe Thuo  on Twitter and @Quincy Kombe Thuo on Facebook respectively.

In the write-up, I lamented the sorry state of infrastructure privy the road network from Kesses all through Cheptiret. The highway is in shape still but these feeder roads suck so much during rainy weather.

The responses and critics I got from social media really motivated me to realise that my stories had a human interest aspect in between. And more so because all write-ups in this blogsite are public interest inclined. 

The topics are also geared to find solutions to the problems that affect us back home. My ideas through my writing profession have helped solve poverty amongst youth, unemployment for youth as well as offering sexuality education while not forgetting to speak of effects of early pregnancies.
Producer Super Melodies at studio, Mtwapa.


According to research I handled using questionnaires, observation and note taking shows that 45% of those youth reading content from this blogsite are working or have a brand or initiative to help alleviate our society through innovation and creativity.

Friday 4 September 2020

|UNPRECEDENTED| EPISODE 1

We are descending downstreet in a rather cold night  through  narrow alleys in Comoros' capital. There has been a rape and murder; both reported around 3,54 am, Sunday the 17th of November 1967.                            photo courtesy

A multitude of citizens walk through the entire capital, street by street, corner to corner. I'm amidst them, garbed in a black t-shirt donned on its front, anti-rape and murder words. My daughter Carleigh holds a candle in a similar shirt. Only that mine was xl and hers small.

Since poor governance and unwarranted beureucracy took over around 1961, police forces have been spearheading a sort of cold war towards the citizenry, staged from higher ranks. Insecurity has become a new sort of ideal here and now, residents were completely fed up.

"Move out, move out!" instinctive sounds are heard as army trucks nose their way into town, they always promise to bring perpetrators to justice. However, civilians had now begun assuming that such wasn't forthcoming.
In solidarity we trekked 45 kilometres through the city malls, hotel apartments down to the government offices. We sought to have our problems solved because nobody was sharp enough to realise many things were summarily amiss.

"Each for equal, each for equal, each for equal... One country, one blood, fair share! We want Antoine... We want  Lauriente's murderers," masses chanted in unison with others integrating backup harmonies at the entrance of the president's establishment.

Immediately, smoke fills the entire city, vanishing chockingly through people's faces. Police were busy lashing teargas canisters as everyone found viable shelter in different establishments around cafeterias and shopping stalls.

I offer Carleigh a bottle of sparkling water to wash her face. Her eyes had turned red and she had begun coughing incoherently. My phone rang as I cover my kid with my coat, of course which oversized her. 

"You need to come and see something Quincy, police are now unearthing Romeo's body...Do you think we have a problem? My sister speaks over the phone.

"Uhhhm, I'm on my way home. The demonstrations turned mayhemic. Carleigh isn't in good shape so I will be there in 17 minutes or so Guljan, keep the home locked. see you soon," I reply and thereafter quickly disconnect the call.
We are walking with Carleigh almost 12 yards off our previous position, careful not to cross the authorities. I identify my black SUV Chevrolet and after making sure it was still intact, I dropped Carleigh next to the driver's seat on the right. She is probably sleepy but I forget to check. Locking her front door, I duck in for the steering wheel and reverse about 5 yards before turning the vehicle south west.

Romeo had been a drug dealer authorities were interested in. He was a close acquaintance to me and a former boyfriend of my younger sister. At least that was the coolest way I could've reffered to him as back then. In the 17th of August 1964, he did collaborate with big persons in the federal government to stage the heaviest drug export of all time. Romeo got murdered after his bosses knew police were out for him, and Romeo was always weak willed, everyone knew he would flip and they killed her as we witnessed across the neighbourhood. I had sold part of my farmland to Romeo, making him a neighbour too, and more than family after Guljan completed the puzzle.

I got home after 19 minutes only to find my sister messed. Henessy on the table gone halfway, she was on smokes and the room really smelt like something. I loosened the windows and folded the white chiffon curtains. Guljan had been sipping herself sober then back through various stages to drunkenness again.

"You need to stop this Guljan... Oh yeah I'm your brother, I might have not been there when you needed me but we are one..We shall figure it out together," I say whisperingly as I caressed her poor naked  arms which had already habored goosebumps.
                           photo courtesy

"Thank you Quincy, I l_o_v_e you brother, you are my father. Daddy stopped realizing we ever existed. After he brought s_o much pain and a nasty life to patch it up," she spoke incoherently as I pulled her as if she were some spare part luggage in a huge market sack atop her 5 inch,6 bed and switched off the bed lamp after neatly tucking her beneath checked grey duvets.

I similarly put Carleigh to sleep in her room and moved outwards to the wooden balcony.. I stared at the evening stars with thoughts running through my mind every so often. So I smoothly murmur, taking two personas at the same time. I rehearsed how I would wake up the following morning and tell my sister, "Here is your passport, I have Carleigh's with mine and we are taking the first flight today at 9, 00 am."

"What, we are running now," I tried in my head to decipher an array of Guljan's most likely responses to my statement... "Wait, wait, wait... Will you call papa, he might assist,"..."We don't have time for packing everything up right now, we barely are  2 hours away from the airport Quincy,  have you had time to sleep before scripting this up," 
               photo courtesy: |Advertisement|


So after considering all, I decided to think for ways I would like her very quickly within a free of 15 minutes. Then take 5 minutes to load all bags to the truck and flee the establishment.

As I packed the bags after a short-lived soliloquy, I though of how we would make it up before 6, 00 am. I later stuffed everything in it's rightful bag and sorted out the bags one after the other. Afterwards, all the papers and useful documents had to get torched lest anyone got implicated. I used some disinfectant to ckense the entire room.                              photo courtesy

By the time I was done, my watch confirmed time as 12,37 am. I knew that this roughly gave me around 5 hours of sleep. I set my alarm at 5, 00 am before shutting my room door to catch some sleep.