‘Guilty.’ The verdict
read. ‘You are hereby sentenced to…’
‘Guilty?’ the defendant
asked. ‘Of what?’
He restrained himself from raising his
voice, not wanting to be held in contempt as it had already happened several
times during the hearing, were they seriously planning to pin on him the sins
of an entire nation…
‘What
am I guilty of?’
he demanded angrily. ‘My only crime is
being born in an impoverished country, where people’s fate was determined by
their social status or the status of the big men in society.’
‘Where
the few big fish in the ‘big’ tribes control every single resource in that
country.’
He seemed to be reeling from the shock of a guilty verdict.
‘Please…’ his defense
attorney tried to restrain him.
‘Let
the man talk.’
The judge allowed him to continue.
‘I
am not responsible for death of millions of African children by Malaria,
neither did I start or by any means spread HIV, still I do not get what I have
to do with the deaths of millions of people from roads accidents.’ He
seemed perplexed. ‘Of maternal deaths,
don’t even get me started…and corruption…’ he paused. ‘Is this a sick joke or something?’
His defense lawyer cleared his throat
anxiously.
The man went on. ‘For heaven’s sakes I did not start the post election violence.’ He
was now pacing up and down as the Judge watched in amazement. ‘Yes, I may have posted a few hate messages
for a rigged election but I killed no one, yes when those ‘people’ were killed,
I felt nothing but I did not kill them my Lord, they had it coming. My only
crime in this case would be voting for the man of my choice…my man.’
‘Your
man.’ The judge asked.
‘Indeed!’ the man
replied. ‘My man…a man of the people!’
he added, his voice full of pride.
‘The
man that you started to complain about a few months after the elections, as a
matter of fact, you could hardly wait for the next general election to vote him
out for his lack of a developmental record, but when the next general elections
came you still voted for him… “your man”.’
‘with
good reasons my Lord.’ The defendant responded.
His defense lawyer covered his face in
disbelief. ‘MY LORD!’ he finally said. ‘I beg this honorable court not to
consider my clients utterances’ as they are irrelevant at this stage of the
proceedings. Evidence has already been adduced, the defense as well as the
prosecution finalized their submissions. We believe the court has reached its judgment,
all that remains is delivery of the judgment, which the defense prays it be
done expeditiously so that we can lodge an appeal. ‘Counsel!’ The judge
started in an all powerful voice. ‘Have I
given out my ruling yet on the case and yet you still want to appeal, on what
grounds!’
‘That
my client was not accorded a fair hearing.’ He seemed to gain his confidence
back. ‘my Lord, my clients right to due
process was gravely violated.
‘Are
you questioning the integrity of this court?’ the Supreme Judge’s eyes were
squarely on the defense attorney.
‘No,
my Lord.’
he defended himself. ‘I am simply questioning
your rationale of condemning my client for the sins of the elite in his
country. Why should a poor servant pay for his master’s corrupt ways?’
‘And
so this ruling class I am assuming…are some sort of monarchy of some sort…how
else did they get this near sovereign Lord Status?’ the judge pondered.
My
Lord ‘I thought we were done here.’ The prosecutor asked. ‘My learned friend is simply wasting the court’s time; he should wait
for the ruling and then appeal that is the due process of the law.’
‘Mr
Prosecutor!’
The Judge said. ‘This is no ordinary
court, yes the defendant is free to appeal once the judgment is pronounced, but
until them I have no objections to listening to his defense.’
‘His
vote was one in a million…maybe we should blame him for global warming as
well.’ The defense lawyer said in frustration.
‘That
is possible.’
The judge said writing something down. ‘I
can add that to the charge sheet and call for a new trial. I do recall his love
for plastics and his poor methods of disposing them.’
The prosecutor smiled slyly at the
disbelieving defense attorney, it seemed like the toughest case of his career.
‘In
line with the guilty verdict.’ The judge read the sentence. ‘In the first charge of mass murder of
women, children and other vulnerable people such as elderly persons and persons
with disabilities using weapons such as hunger, strife and aloofness. This
court finds the accused guilty, the court is satisfied with the evidence
adduced in this court, that on 5th October 1995 the accused did
nothing to help his neighbours wife and children though he knew the accused
had a history of mental problems but
never used the information to help the family, the neighbor ended up murdering
his wife and children. Still in the same village the accused knew of the men
stealing from the villagers, he also knew that his nephew was defiling elderly
women and persons with disabilities, impregnating some of the children with
severe disabilities, you still aided his escape so that he could evade the
arrest.’
The defendant hang his head in shame, he
had done all that because he loved his sister.
‘In
the second charge the court finds you guilty of the deaths of men, women and
children through road carnages. The court is also satisfied with the evidence
adduced that you watched at times with misguided sarcasm as money exchanged
hands between the police and matatu driver, you were also at times the excess
passenger and even when other passengers complained you derided them over their
excess weight. Then a couple of years later you bought your own matatu, which
with the passing of time became unroadworthy , but without insurance, without a
propely trained driver it ended killing several people directly, indirectly it
caused thousands of deaths, at one time your vehicle hit a five year old boy
who was rushed to hospital in critical condition, you may not know this but the
boy died several months later, but the accused paid the police so that his
vehicle could return to the dusty village roads.’
The defense attorney fidgeted, the
evidence at that point was overwhelming. The defendant seemed to be clutching
at a straw.
‘On
the third charge of failure to vote for the right leadership, gross corruption
and sycophancy the court finds you guilty, the evidence proved beyond reasonable
doubt that year after year you voted for your man, who in turn wasted all the
resources that were within his reach, resulting in the constant impoverishment
of my people, in maternal deaths for lack of proper medical facilities for
women. The accused had the power to change all that by voting not on the basis
on his tribe but on values such as integrity, honour and hard work. His man
never delivered but because he was so ingrained on ‘his tribe’ ‘their tribe’
mentality, he drove his country the one that I had endowed with so much
resources into a state of utter and complete failure. The court notes that the
defendant can be described as cold, non-caring and a person who misused all the
power given to him, he admitted to this court that while people from ‘the other
tribe’ were being killed he felt nothing. Children died of malaria a
preventable disease, the aged looked after HIV/Aids orphans all because of the
choices the defendant made.’
‘On
the three counts this court finds the defendant guilty as charged and hereby
sentenced to eternal damnation. The defendant is free to make an appeal within
fourteen days, after which the sentence will be final.’
A
WELL DESERVED BREAK
Peter seemed relaxed on the journey back
from Mombasa.
‘Mambasa!’ they had
teased each other. ‘Mambasa.’ They
had sung all the way from Nairobi to ‘Mambasa.’
Peter a couple of months back had somehow dated a young white lady.
‘I
prefer the Kenyan ones.’ He smirked a bit arrogantly.
They had met at one of those days when
Lisa his best friend took his to one of the Java kind of restaurants, a simple
meal set him back by a thousand shillings.
‘I
might as well use the toilets.’ He retorted. ‘At least I will leave something big that will have made my 1000
worth it.’
‘Rest
room…’
she corrected him. ‘Or you can say ladies
or gents.’
He gave her one of his playful looks.
‘The
food was great; you can at least admit that.’ She said.
‘Yes,
but the quantity was wanting.’ He told her. ‘And their clientele as you can see…ni wazungu and very rich Kenyans.’ He
cast her, a goofy face. ‘And let’s not
forget the ‘I seem to forget where my social class is’ Kenyans.’
‘I
love the ambience.’
Lisa smiled, defending herself as they looked around, Peter seemed to notice
the young white woman with blue eyes and blonde hair, she smiled at him, he
blushed. Lisa noticed the sparks as Peter turned quickly.
‘I
love her.’
She announced, leaning towards him. ‘She
made you blush, you the typical African male.’
‘Hebu
I go to the post office, I have some mail to drop.’ He started to
leave.
‘Post
office, toilet, gross!’ she said.
Lisa glanced at her purse; she had
enough money just to get her home. She had hoped Peter would be gentleman
enough and offer to pay, but that never happened. He had even joked at some
point that since she had invited him, she needed to pay. She had met Peter in
Campus and their relationship had blossomed into a wonderful, warm friendship,
she could not tell if Peter liked her, or he just loved her as friend. Everyone
kept telling her, that Peter was never going to love her like she loved him; he
seemed to see her as a sister.
‘Maybe
one day he may change his mind and decide I am the one he wanted to marry.’
She suggested several nights earlier to her sister as she got ready for bed.
‘The
only way he will marry you.’ Cecily put her novel down and sat up on
her bed. ‘is if the girl he has been
chasing after all this while rejects him, and then all the other girls that he
thought were suitable reject him and he realizes that he is growing too old.
You’d make a good plan D siz.’
‘Nothing
special about that.’
Peter thought as he came out the rest room.
He could have paid for Lisa’s meal,
after all she had spend more money on him than he had in all their years of
friendship, still he could not understand why he kept her in the friend zone.
It did feel kinda great to know that he had many options when it came to
deciding who he would spend the rest of his life with. His thoughts were far
off, when he bumped into the pretty young white girl, he almost knocked her to
the floor, he reached trying to stop her from hitting the beautiful tiled
floor, but he lost his balance and they both fell on the floor. He gained his
composure first. ‘I am so sorry miss.’
He helped her on her feet.
‘It’s
ok.’
She smiled.
Her smile seemed to knock his senses out;
from her accent he could tell she was American.
‘Am
Peter.’
He smiled and gave her his hand.
‘You
too seem to be soooo in love.’ Lisa stressed on the issue as they lay on
one of the beautiful sandy beaches in Mombasa.
‘We
were.’
Peter said.
‘Peter,
you have changed a lot.’ Lisa admitted.
‘Kumbe you are not the nice guy I thought you were.’ She sounded
disappointed.
He could not believe how amazing Lisa
looked in a bikini; he could not keep his eyes off her gorgeous body. Her
stomach was flatter than a pancake, her figure finer than an hour glass.
‘As
I said.’
Peter added. ‘I prefer Kenyan women.’
Lisa just smiled as she sat up. ‘Peter you used her for her money you
loving Kenyan women has nothing to do with it.’
‘That
solar is killing me.’
She touched her shoulder slightly.
‘You
are tanning.’
He lay looking at her smooth brown complexion.
‘Pete…’ she started. ‘Is that what Nicole baby used to call you?’
She was looking at him. ‘I am African, tanning doesn’t apply to me, sun burnt
does.’
‘I
can apply some sun screen on you.’ He offered sitting up and taking the
sunscreen into his hands.
‘No
thank you.’
She grabbed the sun screen bottle. ‘I
would rather that hot guy over there did it?’
Peter glanced at Kimae, he was their
colleague, and he seemed to be in a world of his own, with ear phones reading a
novel. Lisa got up and walked towards the water, the sun just seemed to illuminate
her body and make it even more beautiful. His thoughts shifted towards her, he
was thinking about all the things he wanted to do her, she seemed confident as
well. He walked towards the edge of the water, she also moved towards him.
‘Besides
she can’t cook Ugali.’
He volunteered some more information.
‘You
didn’t seem to mind spending her money.’ Lisa retorted.
The relationship had been short lived
but amazing, even though he had a well paying job, and his investments in the
transport industry were doing amazingly well, he had lied to Nicole, he had led
her into believing he was from a lower social class than he actually was. She
had paid for his trip to the Maasai Mara, and what an adventure they had, he
never knew the wild could be so interesting. She had flown his to Zanzibar for
a romantic getaway at the sun kissed beaches. She seemed to be genuinely
interested in him. When she proposed a long distance relationship he lied that
he would rather they be friends so that his heart would not be broken. She was
nice about it, she had promised to look him the next year when she visited and
take him to ‘Mambasa!’
‘Mambasa…’ he teased her.
‘Mambasa…’ she repeated
not knowing he was making fun of her.
He watched as Lisa chatted with some
white Italians, what could they be talking about. She seemed to smile a lot; it
seemed to bother him a lot.
‘Lisa.’ He put his arm
around her warm shoulders. ‘Come on
sweetie, let’s go for swim.’
She removed his arm as they walked into
the sunset.
‘Lisa.’ He started. ‘Have you ever thought of us as a …’
She removed his hand slowly creeping up
on her waist. ‘You have bikini fever.’
He seemed confused.
‘Your
thinking ability has been affected by seeing women in two pieces.’ She said. ‘Let’s get back to Nairobi and your fever
will go down when you see normal women in normal clothing.’
He quickly moved away sensing that Lisa
was about to turn him down, but she was right when they got back to Nairobi the
fever was gone, but he could not forget the sun soaked days and long night walks
in the beach, they were just so beautiful. Still he could forget Lisa and how
great her body looked without all the layers of clothes on them. He needed a
sign, a big sign to prove to himself that Lisa could be more than just a
friend.
Life was indeed amazing for the twenty
something’s that on an Easter weekend they could afford to leave behind the
hassle of the big city and escape for a nice Easter get away. Life was indeed
good for Peter, he had landed a job even before he left Campus, even before graduation
he had a good job, and to add to his list of many blessings he had pretty good
genes, well he was not bad to look at. Indeed he seemed to have been born with
a silver spoon in his mouth. The taxi driver dropped him off at his gate, it
was late at night, noticing that the security guard was not in his usual place,
not that there was one constant guard it was the care taker, he doubled as the
security guard, most nights you would find him asleep in his house and not at
the gate. He let himself in and walked two floors up to his door. He tried to
open the door for several seconds but he could not feel the padlock with his
hands, realizing the door was not locked, he quickly opened his door, his heart
bumping faster than when he had laid his eyes on Lisa’s body. He tried to
switch on the lights but the bulb seemed not to light, he rushed outside in a daze;
the entire estate was lit brightly. He rushed back to his house and tried to
feel around, he felt desperate, he could feel nothing, he touched the walls to
the main switch but he turned the switch but nothing seemed to happen. He
remembered the little torch he carried with him, he rushed and brought it in
the house.
The little torch lit brightly, but the
night seemed too silent as his mind tried to reconcile what his eyes were
registering, he quickly rushed outside and shone the light at his house number,
it was his house alright, the neighbor came out as if to confirm he was in the
right house.
‘We
saw people moving things from your house in the middle of the night over the
weekend and thought you were moving out.’
He made an attempt to follow Peter into
the house but Peter slammed the door in his face angrily. Who moves out in the
middle of the night?
He walked around all the other rooms in
his house, everything movable was gone, and he had nothing apart from the
clothes he had carried to Mombasa. He reached out for his phone and dialed
Lisa’s number. The only person he could call.
‘Hello.’ She seemed
sleepy. ‘Peter nilifika kitambo.’ She
joked.
‘Lisa.’ He said in a
shaky voice. ‘My house has been robbed,
there’s nothing left…’
What do people really mean when the say: -
·
It’s who I am, I tell it as is.
That is totally fake, what they are
actually saying is, I need psychological help, I have an identity crisis PLEASE HELP ME! Or as my younger brother puts it I
tell it as it is to people I really don’t care about but to the people I really
care and love I am afraid of hurting their feelings.
The
‘I tell it as it’
simply put is that the person in question is rude and they don’t want to do
anything about it. Shame!
·
“I am opened
minded”
is simply another way of saying I am
confused.
So for the students of English, Open
minded and confused can be used interchangeably. Well, they should be.
·
“I will know when
I get there,”
It only means that you are lost and you need
all the help you can get in finding your way in life. It also means you haven’t
thought much about your life. You may get there and realize that you never
wanted to go there in the first place.
·
“I want a man
who is tall dark and handsome or I want a very beautiful woman for a wife.”
Means: You are not pretty yourself, or
handsome. Beauty is not something you possess. People always want what they are
not. It may also mean you understand evolution and do not your offspring to
have undesirable traits.
·
“Let me pray
about it.”
Men this actually means: -
1. Even though, I
have never thought about you, you might be a good plan B.
2. You are not the
only one in the picture and I am afraid that if I say yes to you I might lose
out on the one I truly love.
3. The thought of
getting married to you or being in relationship with you is too scary, and I
need all the strength I can before saying yes.
4. I need to beat
my body into submission just to be able to say yes.
God has nothing to do with it, just a battle that I
have to fight with my inner self.
·
“Our tribe is
being attacked, is
another way of saying; we are very foolish beyond measure. Usually the
politician involved has NOTHING to do with you, and does not know you even
exist and even the same was to happen to you, the phrase would not be used to
apply to you.
·
Since
those shady phone dealers are not planning to give me one bob change back, then
the 3499 should change to 3500, the 4999 should be 5000, while the 4449 should
be 4450. Enough said.
·
Of
night runners, do they have six packs, are they handsome/pretty because they
would be cute to watch or spy on. It might also help their cause when they are
arguing that night running is of no harm to anyone apart from the runner who
risks pneumonia for running naked in the middle of a cold night. If the night
runner is not as good looking and he’s running in his birthday suit that might
not only be scary but also traumatizing to anyone who may accidentally see
them. This also goes for the men; please don’t remove your shirt in public
unless you have a six pack.
NICE
GUYS FINISH LAST
‘Nice
guys finish last.’
Kamau let out an audible sigh. ‘What do
women want?’ he wanted shout from the sandy valleys of Lake Turkana to the
sandy beaches in Mombasa, but he knew the answer to that, they wanted a man,
tall dark (not as dark as him), handsome and rich. No woman wanted to date nice
guys such as him, they didn’t care that he was a doctor, a young and successful
doctor who had his whole life ahead of him, like that lunch time he had finally
mustered the courage to speak to the girl of his dreams…literally, they kind
that left him feeling like he was in heaven, the girl in his dreams every night.
That event had taught him a lot of things he should NEVER say to a girl. Like,
there are some late night fantasies that they may never want to know that they
are part of.
Anyway this girl, he knew her by her
first name Andrea, another lesson that life changing event had taught him,
never to date girls with fancy names, next time he was looking for a Mary, Jane
or Mercy, from the first day he had laid his eyes on her he could not tell
whether she was a really light skinned Kenyan or a point-five, but she was
beautiful, even when he took off his glasses, for he was indeed short sighted,
like three of his siblings, and his father, as if that was not enough, he had
asthma, well it ran in the family…bad genes as his ex-girlfriend had pointed
out, the only girl to have agreed to date him, only to dump him a couple of
months later, another life lesson he had learnt, never tell a girl you are
dating that your family has some defective genes added to a lack of height and
good looks.
‘Asthma
is genetic.’
Anne his then girlfriend seemed puzzled. ‘So
that means if we get children, they might be asthmatic.’
Yes that was a turn off it seemed.
‘Why
do you cross your legs like a girl?’ she asked. ‘Oh my God you are going to cry!’
Anne seemed to have a problem with
everything that he was.
Then there was Andrea, she had just been
employed into the civil service a couple of weeks earlier, she seemed like a
beautiful city girl trying to adjust to a village life, it wasn’t easy, she had
applied for the job just to show her father could, but she was trying, she was
that beautiful Mercedes Benz stuck in some sand somewhere in the remotest place
in Kenya, but the engine would not die and slowly she was pulling herself from
the sand and starting to enjoy the rural freshness. Still, a beautiful classy
woman like her would never fit fully in such a small town, more like a village
shopping centre. So that day, Andrea sat with one of her female workmates at
their usual place, Marigu-ini Hotel, a small eating place with benches instead
of chairs such that all their customers sat awfully close to each other, the
food was alright, in all the years they had been in operation no one had
complained of any ailment, despite their low standard of hygiene. Andrea
took some time getting used to the food and the hotel, her father was rich man,
one of the wealthiest in Kenya, he owned thousands of acres of prime land, his
investments in real estate and the hotel industry was immeasurable, so when her fridge dried out, she had no
desire to cook, it was one of those alien things to her, she tried the food in
the small hotel and it didn’t hurt her stomach and she wanted to blend in, no
one could know who her father was, maybe if Kamau had known this he would have realized
how incompatible they were. Her bright brown eyes lit up the rooms and her
teeth seemed like they were pulled from a toothpaste advertisement, every one
man wanted her and so did Kamau.
And Dr. Matumbe was in luck, there was
an empty seat right next to Andrea, yes even his name was another reason why
girls seemed to avoid him, so he used his father’s name Kariuki for all the
Kikuyu girls he tried to chat up. Seriously no woman seemed comfortable being referred
to as Mrs. Matumbe , he could never understand how eggs could be so disgusting
to many women.
‘Can
I call you by your first name?’ one of his classmates had him asked in
campus. ‘Your last name is just weird,
what was your mother thinking?’ she rolled her eyes as the rest of her
click joined her in laughter.
He mustered all his strength, passed an
empty bench and sat across Andrea and her friend.
‘Hi
my name is Simon.’
He tried to join in their conversation.
It was one of those days he wished he
had carried his white coat so that she could see he was a very important person
in society, but some women were so blind, one had asked him if he worked for the
nearby butchery, women were not so easily impressed, another life lesson.
He looked straight into her brown eyes. ‘I’m a doctor at the District Hospital.’
Andrea just stared at him in half
disbelief, but not too bothered, she was used to men falling over for her, at
times the attention was good, and it got her services faster that the average
looking woman plus some services she got free, all because she was beautiful,
but free was not an option for a young woman who had been accustomed to
everything that she ever wanted.
‘Do
you girls want sodas?’ he asked in courtesy. ‘Si this place is so hot.’
There was awkward silence for a second
before Andrea resumed chatting with her colleague.
‘If
only Nai wasn’t so far away.’ she lamented. ‘One of these days…’ she bit her tongue.
‘Acha
you silly dreams, Madam you know who will never allow the ‘I was coming from
Nairobi’ excuse?’ her colleague chimed in. ‘Darling forget about it and your dad am sure has something to do with
all these.’
They spoke like city girls, the heavily
accented English with a bit Swa-English here and there, he wanted her even more
and no rejection was going to put him down. He seemed to get him break when
Andrea received a phone call, her colleague turned to him.
‘So
you are a doctor.’
She sought confirmation.
‘Yes.’ He smiled.
‘She’s
Andrea and I’m Shiro.’
She introduced them. ‘We work for…’
‘Registrar
of births and deaths.’ He jumped in too quickly.
Shiro seemed a little bit uncomfortable.
‘Everyone
knows where you work.’ He tried to make her feel easy. ‘You two are like the most discussed item in
the doctors’ room.’
Shiro tried to feign a sweet smile.
‘You
and And-ri-a are in a lot of our dreams as well.’ He let his
mouth take the lead as usual, this was close to the point that he learnt you
should never tell a girl that she has featured severally in your crazy dreams.
‘All the doctors talk about you so highly.’
‘So
you like do everything including childbirth.’ Shiro tried to change the topic.
‘Yes,
but for childbirth they only call us when there’s prolonged labour, or a CS,
you know a caesarean section.’ He said animatedly. ‘Childbirth changes women; I mean I can put both hands in there in certain
cases like after the second child.’ He laughed heartedly.
Shiro almost poured her neighbors’ hot
tea in all the shock of what this complete stranger was telling them.
‘And-ri-a…’ he tried to
chat to her as soon as she was done on the phone.
‘Andrea…’ she corrected
him. ‘Why are you talking to this freak?’
she rolled her eyes turning to her friend. ‘Yes
I understand we are in some village somewhere in Kenya but dear stop…please.’
She moved her perfectly manicured hands, her skin was blemish free.
Her voice was silky and cool, it gave
him the determination not to give up on a girl he really liked, and maybe she
would come around.
‘I
am a doctor.’
He addressed Andrea. ‘Anytime you feel
unwell, come and see, I will treat you for free.’
‘Dude.’ Andrea responded.
‘If I felt unwell, AA would come and get
me in a flash, besides I don’t do cheap and that includes poorly paid doctors.’
Her father loved her a lot and luckily
she had only told him after she got the job, after a couple of months she would
quit and help her father manage his investments, they were only three daughters
and her two elder sisters were already
working for him, it was only a matter of time before he sent for her. It did
not surprise her if he had some people watching over her but she was a free
spirit.
Andrea turned Shiro. ‘Hebu we go, before this germ infested
doctor, infects us with something.’
Then it hit him, she was not playing
hard to get, she was hard to get.
Shiro paid, as Andrea waited for her
outside, Simon decided to try his luck one more time, he quickly rushed outside
not to wanting to miss an opportunity.
‘I
am sorry if I was upfront about the stretched out vag…’he stopped
himself from saying the word. ‘I am a
doctor, you see a lot and it just changes the way you see and talk about
things.’
All the while she seemed like she was
listening, it felt amazing to be so close to her.
‘I
sit like next to you every day, at lunch time.’ He smiled. ‘I just want to say I like you and I am a
nice guy. If…’
‘Look…’ Andrea stopped
him. ‘In your district hospital, to they
treat stupid.’
He seemed confused, he seemed the
sarcasm.
Shiro didn’t understand why this guy was
doing this to himself, Andrea was tearing him apart and he didn’t even seem to
notice.
‘Can
they like prescribe a pill that kinda increases your self esteem because you
need it.’ She finally let him have it. ‘I
don’t do pathetic, I am not in your class, and I am so ashamed of the me that
has been doing rounds in your perverted little mind, arrgh that is so
disgusting, am gonna need some shots.’ She studied him from head to toe. ‘I am like so embarrassed to be seen with
you. So you little roach, look at you I would die if someone saw me walking
with you…arrgh.’ She seemed genuinely disgusted. ‘What would give some guy like
you, confidence to talk to someone like me?’
As they walked away, he could hear
Andrea telling Shiro that was the last time she was visiting such a cheap dingy
place and that she was calling her father and asking for a position in his
company.
‘Ati
this ka-dude went to Starehe School.’ Shiro also decided to take a punch at
him. ‘Do you even know what that means?’
Simon felt his confidence fade away,
some nurses giggled as he made his way to the labour ward, word had already
reached the hospital, it all reminded him of Anne, the day she dumped him, all
he had wanted to know was why the girl he had tried to chat up had said no to
him, even before he asked her to be his girlfriend. ‘I am a nice guy.’ He said to himself.
‘Nice
has nothing to do with being plain looking.’ Anne had told him as she
dumped him over phone as he called to wish her goodnight. ‘You are a messed up little man with self esteem issues, who needs his
momma or a psychologist to make him feel better, I am tired of having to put up
with your humiliations and you trying to put me down so that I can be a
pathetic feeling person like you.’ And this was only a month later.
‘I
am sorry if that is the way you felt.’ He tried to apologize.
‘Simon!’
she
yelled. ‘You wanna know how I felt, I felt
like I was wore the pants in this relationship while you behaved like a sad
little girl with massive body issues which translated to major mind boggling
SELF ESTEEM ISSUES.’ She screamed towards the very end.
He could not help that his lips were
disproportionate to each other, and his teeth seemed to be shaped differently
from each other, not to mention his short thin looking body.
Still he was nice guy and they always
came last, years later he hoped Andrea would see what she had missed by being
rude to a nice guy, all because he was short, wore glasses and was not in the
same class with her, or at least he hoped. His princess would come one day and
maybe she would love just as he was, if not she would love him because he was a
doctor, that had to count for something.
STILL
WAITING, ALWAYS WAITING
Of course she looked older, but no older
than thirty though she was only twenty four, she may have been odd looking, but
she was a young campus graduate with a promising future. Alicia Kimani had a
good job which she did not need to do use her best features to get it unlike
her beautiful elder sister, there was no flashing of white teeth there, or
showing of her ‘ample’ cleavage . She just walked in and let her CV and brain
do the talking. She smiled at her silly thoughts, as she stared at the
beautiful Nairobi evening sky, it was not as peaceful as it portrayed, she
reflected at her parents on the other side of the city, how many times had
their recently constructed bungalow been broken into, somehow its seemed these
thieves, enemies of success had all the time in the world to cut the metal
railings near the window as her mother screamed, only a few metres from the
police station… it was frustrating that every other day she was forced to buy
new household items to replace the stolen ones because Mwihaki was too busy
being chased by men to even care, luckily she lived on the other side of
Nairobi, the leafy suburbs, the sort where when she driving into, it felt like
she was somewhere in Europe, because of its posh nature and sophistication, as
the security guard opened the gates into her 70,000/- per month apartment, he
could tell that even though she was plain looking she was a successful woman,
security worried her the least in her new found life, what worried her was her
bulging forehead and her lack of enough hair to cover it, to make it worse her
hair not only was it stunted but it was brown, how could she forget the
kwashiorkor mocking chants as a child, her shoulders were broad like a man’s
and her chest was flat, her thin legs looked like she had been playing football
her entire life. Then there was her plain face, the sort that men forget
easily, it wasn’t impressionable, it was rather dark but not so…it was more
like someone had rubbed ash on a black surface, it made look older than she
already was.
Luckily she got the brains that passed
through the school system with passing colours, a few months later she landed
the dream job with an international organization, a couple of business deals
later, she was wealthy, it all happened so fast, and now all that was missing
was a man, to love her as she was, though she was scared that the money drew
the men even further away. She stared at her night lingerie any average woman
would look smashing in it, but no, it seemed like she was a girl trapped in a
boy’s body. Bringing her to the current predicament, Karanja! A few weeks
earlier their organization had organized a legal workshop for young women and
men, to discuss all the changes taking place in the country especially with a
new constitution in place. The seminar was successful, she felt different,
maybe it was because of the designer long flowing black weave she was wearing,
but she got her first ‘but you look so young compliment.’ From
Karanja off course, the bangs were covering her forehead and the long flowing
gowns she wore hid her unflattering legs. Karanja was a third year Law student
at one of the local universities, he was tall, light skinned and very handsome,
and he kept smiling at her, towards the end of the workshop he asked for her
number and befriended on facebook, though she did not spend a lot of her time
on social media as she love seating in her balcony and watching the handsome
Englishman drive home each evening, he always came home at around 10pm, he would
park his car before stopping to talk to the caregiver, he had no ring so she
assumed he was a single young expat from somewhere in the UK, but nowadays it was getting hard to tell, then
he would stop and chat with the caregiver, who seemed to organize housekeeping
for all the residents including her, he would then stop and stare at her
balcony, their eyes would meet temporarily, before she would quickly go back to
reading her book, whether it was the blues eyes or the blonde hair she was not
really sure. Social media simply reminded her of the people who mocked her
growing up but now wanted favours from her.
Karanja was only two years younger than
her, the prince she thought that she had been waiting for. He started each day
by proclaiming she was the most beautiful woman in the room, she felt
flattered, he pulled her chair for her, and made sure she sat next to him all
the time, even when she attempted to pass him deliberately. He made her feel
like a woman, he texted her good night every single evening after walking her
to her room. He was all she could think of. Now there was a real man in her
imagination, one who she could dream off, he would finish campus, go to the
Kenya School of Law and become an advocate of the High Court, then she would be
married to a prominent lawyer in the country, who knows maybe one of them could
run for an elective office someday or maybe he could become the chief justice
of the great republic, from the way he spoke, argued and presented his facts,
he seemed to have right qualities for a very successful lawyer in the future,
but the best fact was that he made her smile, even her mother noticed her plain
daughter who she was very worried about had that glow that spelt love, maybe Alicia
had met a man who could love her as she was, that was her only prayer.
Two weeks later, Karanja asked her for a
date, her legs shook, like she was caught unaware in the first ever snowstorm
in Nairobi, an event extraordinaire, her heart beat, she felt like it was going
to burst, then they could say she died of excitement, her blouse was already
wet with sweat, she could hardly wait for him to finish so that she could say
yes.
He took her to a very expensive
restaurant, she wondered how he was going to pay for it, but he seemed relaxed
in pair of jean trousers and a black t-shirt, he ordered the most expensive
dish in the menu, while she looked radiant in her red sun dress, and whoever
invented weaves should have won a Nobel Peace Prize for Peace, the peace and
happiness they brought to women like her was inexplicable, she ordered
something cheap, she did not want to dig a hole out of his pocket. Karanja did
most of the talking, how his parents were struggling to pay fees for him, they
were tea farmers and he was a self sponsored student.
‘Tea farmers.’ She thought,
they were definitely not poor, from what she had read they were doing quite
well. At some point, he spoke of looking for a sponsor; she just listened
though distracted as she ate her food, lost in the moment, thinking about his
last comment, about her beautiful figure. She only became alert when he thanked
her for asking him out for a date.
‘I-I did not ask you for a date.’ She stammered.
‘Karanja
you asked me out.’
Suddenly it hit her like a bucket of
cold icy water, Karanja was not in love with her he was looking for someone to
foot his bills in exchange for sex.
‘It’s ok Alicia.’ Karanja tried
to save face. ‘I only that since I am a jobless university student and you an older
woman.’
‘What!’ the glass of water from
Alicia’s hand fell with a thud, breaking into several tiny pieces as her heart.
‘I
told you I am only two years older than you.’ She found herself
insisting.
Karanja thought just like every woman,
she was lying about her age, he seemed rather embarrassed as the waiter tried
to clean up the mess. Alicia could see that he did not believe that.
‘I am sorry Alicia…I thought we all
wanted the same thing.’ Karanja apologized. ‘Why would I wanna date an older
woman if not for…’
Second cold bucket of the evening, she
felt her whole body shake in disbelief. Her heart shattered into the proverbial
million pieces, her self esteem vanished, her eyes wanted to let out, but her
heart would let them.
Still…’ he held her
hand, she pulled back.
Yes she was a plane Jane and a bit desperate.
‘Please
can I have my bill?’ her voice shook as she requested the waiter.
There’s no way she going to be a twenty four year old cougar that was unheard
of, she tried to convince herself.
‘You are not going to pay for this.’ Karanja seemed
shocked. This had never happened to him, not with such a plain looking woman.
Alicia Kimani took her handbag and
walked to the counter to clear her bill, she feared the wait would be too long
than her shattered self esteem could take, before desperation fully set in, she
needed to be as far away from Karanja as she could.
She was back to sitting at her balcony
with the only man exchanging glances with, white but it would have to do for a
girl given a pretty name so that it could hide the plain looking girl behind
it, at times it scared her that people would hear her name and be disappointed
when they saw her face, maybe they should have called her Mary or Jane. As her
eyes sank deep into her book, she hoped that one day when she became older
being a cougar would not be her only choice, she stopped and glanced at the car
park the Englishman was still staring at her, she sank her eyes back into her
book, half heartedly promising to wait for the prince that might never come.
STILL
WAITING, ALWAYS WAITING
Of course she looked older, but no older
than thirty though she was only twenty four, she may have been odd looking, but
she was a young campus graduate with a promising future. Alicia Kimani had a
good job which she did not need to do use her best features to get it unlike her
beautiful elder sister, there was no flashing of white teeth there, or showing
of her ‘ample’ cleavage . She just walked in and let her CV and brain do the
talking. She smiled at her silly thoughts, as she stared at the beautiful
Nairobi evening sky, it was not as peaceful as it portrayed, she reflected at
her parents on the other side of the city, how many times had their recently
constructed bungalow been broken into, somehow its seemed these thieves,
enemies of success had all the time in the world to cut the metal railings near
the window as her mother screamed, only a few metres from the police station…
it was frustrating that every other day she was forced to buy new household
items to replace the stolen ones because Mwihaki was too busy being chased by
men to even care, luckily she lived on the other side of Nairobi, the leafy suburbs,
the sort where when she driving into, it felt like she was somewhere in Europe,
because of its posh nature and sophistication, as the security guard opened the
gates into her 70,000/- per month apartment, he could tell that even though she
was plain looking she was a successful woman, security worried her the least in
her new found life, what worried her was her bulging forehead and her lack of
enough hair to cover it, to make it worse her hair not only was it stunted but
it was brown, how could she forget the kwashiorkor mocking chants as a child,
her shoulders were broad like a man’s and her chest was flat, her thin legs
looked like she had been playing football her entire life. Then there was her
plain face, the sort that men forget easily, it wasn’t impressionable, it was
rather dark but not so…it was more like someone had rubbed ash on a black
surface, it made look older than she already was.
Luckily she got the brains that passed
through the school system with passing colours, a few months later she landed
the dream job with an international organization, a couple of business deals
later, she was wealthy, it all happened so fast, and now all that was missing
was a man, to love her as she was, though she was scared that the money drew
the men even further away. She stared at her night lingerie any average woman
would look smashing in it, but no, it seemed like she was a girl trapped in a boy’s
body. Bringing her to the current predicament, Karanja! A few weeks earlier
their organization had organized a legal workshop for young women and men, to
discuss all the changes taking place in the country especially with a new
constitution in place. The seminar was successful, she felt different, maybe it
was because of the designer long flowing black weave she was wearing, but she
got her first ‘but you look so young compliment.’ From Karanja off course, the
bangs were covering her forehead and the long flowing gowns she wore hid her unflattering
legs. Karanja was a third year Law student at one of the local universities, he
was tall, light skinned and very handsome, and he kept smiling at her, towards
the end of the workshop he asked for her number and befriended on facebook,
though she did not spend a lot of her time on social media as she love seating
in her balcony and watching the handsome Englishman drive home each evening, he
always came home at around 10pm, he would park his car before stopping to talk
to the caregiver, he had no ring so she assumed he was a single young expat
from somewhere in the UK, but nowadays
it was getting hard to tell, then he would stop and chat with the caregiver,
who seemed to organize housekeeping for all the residents including her, he
would then stop and stare at her balcony, their eyes would meet temporarily,
before she would quickly go back to reading her book, whether it was the blues
eyes or the blonde hair she was not really sure. Social media simply reminded
her of the people who mocked her growing up but now wanted favours from her.
Karanja was only two years younger than
her, the prince she thought that she had been waiting for. He started each day
by proclaiming she was the most beautiful woman in the room, she felt
flattered, he pulled her chair for her, and made sure she sat next to him all
the time, even when she attempted to pass him deliberately. He made her feel
like a woman, he texted her good night every single evening after walking her
to her room. He was all she could think of. Now there was a real man in her
imagination, one who she could dream off, he would finish campus, go to the
Kenya School of Law and become an advocate of the High Court, then she would be
married to a prominent lawyer in the country, who knows maybe one of them could
run for an elective office someday or maybe he could become the chief justice
of the great republic, from the way he spoke, argued and presented his facts,
he seemed to have right qualities for a very successful lawyer in the future,
but the best fact was that he made her smile, even her mother noticed her plain
daughter who she was very worried about had that glow that spelt love, maybe Alicia
had met a man who could love her as she was, that was her only prayer.
Two weeks later, Karanja asked her for a
date, her legs shook, like she was caught unaware in the first ever snowstorm
in Nairobi, an event extraordinaire, her heart beat, she felt like it was going
to burst, then they could say she died of excitement, her blouse was already
wet with sweat, she could hardly wait for him to finish so that she could say
yes.
He took her to a very expensive
restaurant, she wondered how he was going to pay for it, but he seemed relaxed
in pair of jean trousers and a black t-shirt, he ordered the most expensive
dish in the menu, while she looked radiant in her red sun dress, and whoever
invented weaves should have won a Nobel Peace Prize for Peace, the peace and
happiness they brought to women like her was inexplicable, she ordered
something cheap, she did not want to dig a hole out of his pocket. Karanja did
most of the talking, how his parents were struggling to pay fees for him, they
were tea farmers and he was a self sponsored student.
‘Tea farmers.’ She thought,
they were definitely not poor, from what she had read they were doing quite
well. At some point, he spoke of looking for a sponsor; she just listened
though distracted as she ate her food, lost in the moment, thinking about his
last comment, about her beautiful figure. She only became alert when he thanked
her for asking him out for a date.
‘I-I did not ask you for a date.’ She stammered.
‘Karanja
you asked me out.’
Suddenly it hit her like a bucket of
cold icy water, Karanja was not in love with her he was looking for someone to
foot his bills in exchange for sex.
‘It’s ok Alicia.’ Karanja tried
to save face. ‘I only that since I am a jobless university student and you an older
woman.’
‘What!’ the glass of water from
Alicia’s hand fell with a thud, breaking into several tiny pieces as her heart.
‘I
told you I am only two years older than you.’ She found herself
insisting.
Karanja thought just like every woman,
she was lying about her age, he seemed rather embarrassed as the waiter tried
to clean up the mess. Alicia could see that he did not believe that.
‘I am sorry Alicia…I thought we all
wanted the same thing.’ Karanja apologized. ‘Why would I wanna date an older
woman if not for…’
Second cold bucket of the evening, she
felt her whole body shake in disbelief. Her heart shattered into the proverbial
million pieces, her self esteem vanished, her eyes wanted to let out, but her
heart would let them.
Still…’ he held her
hand, she pulled back.
Yes she was a plane Jane and a bit desperate.
‘Please
can I have my bill?’ her voice shook as she requested the waiter.
There’s no way she going to be a twenty four year old cougar that was unheard
of, she tried to convince herself.
‘You are not going to pay for this.’ Karanja seemed
shocked. This had never happened to him, not with such a plain looking woman.
Alicia Kimani took her handbag and
walked to the counter to clear her bill, she feared the wait would be too long
than her shattered self esteem could take, before desperation fully set in, she
needed to be as far away from Karanja as she could.
She was back to sitting at her balcony
with the only man exchanging glances with, white but it would have to do for a
girl given a pretty name so that it could hide the plain looking girl behind
it, at times it scared her that people would hear her name and be disappointed
when they saw her face, maybe they should have called her Mary or Jane. As her
eyes sank deep into her book, she hoped that one day when she became older
being a cougar would not be her only choice, she stopped and glanced at the car
park the Englishman was still staring at her, she sank her eyes back into her
book, half heartedly promising to wait for the prince that might never come.
