In line with the Katiba I am vying for the position of Chairman of Nyumba Kumi Initiative at my place of residence. And my Suzie will be the first lady. Any top seat has one. The wife of a bishop is an evangelist; the wife of a doctor is a nurse and so on. With the faith that my bank is still processing my application for the low-interest rate capped loan, I will have all that is needed to make my dream come true.
When the time comes, I will cross the stream and Susan will live her dream. Susan likes power so much. She says that she loves me because she knows I was a class prefect at one point in time during my schooling days. That if it happens again, I may even become an MCA.
I will start small.
Behind every successful man, there is a woman. It is so evident that I have Sue. She has me and I have her. We have each other. I am her Antony, she is my Cleopatra.
The problem is how to launch my party. Bwana Thige says that since I assumed leadership of this coveted position, I have been performing my duties with preference. That I do not convince the tenants on the need to accept to handwritten power bills.
Bedsitters have colored electricity. The bathroom has purple stima while the section of the bed had blue stima. You surely well know that a bedsitter means that visitors sit on the bed, but for this one, there is a small sitting room. Bwana Thige says that by issuing handwritten water, power and garbage-collection bills are a means of conserving the environment. He says that he is a member of the local NGO that loves a greener Kinoo-Regen.
The girl next is interested in the position too. She is an enemy of development. It is just the other day she called me to fix her bulb and I did. I asked for no payment, yet she cannot let me get the position unopposed. I know for me it is a very long shot, but I will take it. Being light skinned and a member of the preferred gender, she stands a better chance than I do. I know she will have more followers at the start but she must know that politics is a dirty game.
Nevertheless, I will use all tactics and techniques at my disposal to defeat her. I will leave no stone unturned. I promise to be dirty like the game.
It is so true to tell you that back in the village, many years ago, I was the lead boy when it came to herding cattle in the Mau ranges. I used to lead other boys with so much wisdom. I warned them not to steal maize for roasting unless one was sure that beyond any reasonable doubt that, if they did not pick some they could not last till dusk.
We all know that necessity knows no law.
That wisdom is still within my medulla oblongata. It only needs a trigger.
When the government announced that we were to have an impromptu holiday on Monday, it really worked for me. To our Muslim brothers and sisters, you don't know how good you are. I love you all. I really love you to the bottom of my soft heart.... And I love the government, OK; I love the one who gazette the holiday.
But I fear the government equally.
My landlord invited all his tenants to his mansion to celebrate the feast. As he put it, it was all about giving back to the society. To me, I was very motivated to be invited. I was to do all I could to make sure that my presence was being felt. As we speak, I am the current standing chairman of Nyumba Kumi Initiative pending the election that will be held next year.
As I prepared to attend the feast, I was tempted do what I did 17 years ago when mama had allowed me to eat as many chapos as I could. She had dared the wrong guy. I stopped at chapo number 11 and it was because I fainted. Well, I hoped that the history was not to repeat itself.
It is not always that I get a time and a chance to eat my rental payments.
I was just about to leave the house to my landlord’s mansion when I heard a knock at the door.
"Yes kamini", I said like a mzungu. I meant “come in”.
"What’s in for lunch, babe", Susan was asking right before she even offered me our constitutional hug. We all know that this modern love calls for some spicing. That is why whenever we meet, we offer each other the hug. In Nairobi a hug means nothing.
"Actually, I am leaving, got some meeting with my boys in town", I started an ICC-type defense.
"Jeez!” she looked shocked and for no good reason.
I have a historical problem of understanding this girl yet I cherish her. She demands so much of my time. The only thing I do not compromise is the get-together activity for us two at the Joint along Moi Avenue. That should be good enough.
I tried to negotiate with her to stay in the house but she adamantly refused. She was risking and jeopardizing my only chance of repossessing my rental payments.
It is really hard to date a Nairobi girl.
I had to do what had to be done. I asked her to join me to town and she was not to ask for any pizza. She needs to know that one pizza costs as much as it costs three bags of Bamburi Cement.
One day, if she does not change I will have to run away. It is easy for me to run away.
I will tell her while looking so sad.
"I have been to the village and there is some bad news", I will start a conversation.
"What’s up, you didn’t tell me, umeniletea nini?” she will ask as usual.
After a long pause, I will say calmly.
"While I was asleep in my grass-thatched house in the village, my ancestors called me in a dream and they are not happy about us, they are asking for 400 black goats to allow us to keep walking on the same path, they don't want us to get married, unless we appease them with the black goats", I will tell her.
“Damn, go go go”, she will answer me.
If she will contribute half of the goats then I will be lucky. I will increase my herd. As you know I have three sheep that mzee never wants me to sell.
All in all, when she heard there was no pizza, she opted to stay at the house and watch some Filipino Operas. As I left I looked at her and felt a feeling of conquering. It is a rare occasion for me to defeat her.
At the landlord’s mansion, things were so good at the beginning. It turned sour when the Landlord asked me to go get my plates since the visitors were more than the excepted. In any case, I am the acting chair, Nyumba Kumi.
It was a hard and trying time. I had to get them by all means possible and not possible. The last time I felt that was when I attended some congregation of the faithful in the Nairobi CBD. The hymns were not familiar. As the bishop demanded we speak in tongues, I was left with no option than to murmur the national anthem. And truly speaking it carried me and even after all the faithful had stopped I was finishing loudly” Haki iwe ngao na mlinzi....”.
Luckily no one seemed to notice. If I survived that I was sure to face Susan.
©Adventure of Mteule
