Just because strands of grey hair are gradually starting to show up on my head does not mean I’m green about the affairs of the young and the restless.

I still have a fight in me, and like the old saying goes, it’s not the size of the dog in the fight that matters, but rather the fight in the dog. And because I still have a fight in me, I sometimes like to take on things that are fraught with controversy. Things like someone deciding to call it "grey hair”, yet what we usually see is white whenever "grey hair” is mentioned.

That said, the young and the restless, the people whose language and though processes revolve around the word "swag” should know that we know the goings-on in their little world, the emerging strands of grey hair on our heads notwithstanding.

Yes, we know that while your hard-working dads settle for their chilled Gatanu lager as the sun sets over Kigali, their swagg-seeking, not-so-well-behaved teens are indulging their curious taste buds in the swag edition of Gatanu–something called Panache, I think.

And I suspect it’s this same ceaseless search for swagg that gave birth to the Knowless version of otherwise beloved Primus. Any seasoned Primus drinker knows that its new little sister, Knowless is all but swag. Which makes one to wonder; if Primus Knowless is good for nothing but swag value, then what about its kid sister, the petite Knowless?

But young, swag-seeking people are not to be defined by drink alone, as they do have other addictions that are way stronger –stuff like music.

Recently, a young, restless and not-so-well-mannered neighbor’s son caught me in the middle of my music playlist that I had specially dedicated to Madame Cecile Kayirebwa.

Kayirebwa is a compelling Rwandan folk singer who also happens to subscribe to a no-nonsense business style similar to the "order with cash” model.

My young "swaggerific” pal walked in as Kayirebwa’s song, Iwacu was playing. In the song, she seems to be nostalgic about her home –which I suspect to be Nyarugenge or Gikondo, because she mentions the two hoods over and over in the song. I thought the song was "simply Rwandaful”, until little Mr. Swag came and attempted to make me look a fool for it.

He demanded to know why I was glued to Igisope, upon which I found it imperative to educate the un-Rwandaful lad that what Kayirebwa does is actually not Igisope. Just close to it, especially in terms of authenticity. I further educated the fool that if he wants Igisope, he had better try Abdul Makanyaga instead.

As a send-off, I recommended further listening that is befitting of his swag: Nicki Minaj and Miley Cyrus.