Wanja Kavengi: In these financially difficult times, borrowing is an art you must master

Mwezi iko kona.

It is a very difficult time for some of us, and apart from asking the Lord to give us strength and courage during these tough, trying times, this is also that time when we do a lot of kukopa. Buying things on credit at the kiosks and shops in our neighbourhoods.

I buy things on credit all the time because the gods of wealth and fortune smote me. And Bill Gates will not adopt me. Which is to mean that you will also find my name listed in CRB, in bold capital letters, underlined, highlighted, and circled with a permanent marker on a notice board.

Restraining orders

I also boast of a few restraining orders, having been prohibited from being within a 10-mile radius of any shops and vibandas in my area.

Anyway, when you realise that there is severe scarcity and deficiency in your wallet, and your M-Pesa and bank account(s) have gathered dust, cobwebs, fungi, and strange animals, you make a resolve to go to that shop outside your plot to see if you can get a packet of unga and some paraffin for free. Temporarily. Then pay after your salary checks in.

The best time to make your approach is when there are no customers or a maximum of two.

Completely ignore the ‘Hakuna kukopa’ or ‘No credit’ sticker screaming in front of you at the small wooden bar hanging above the shopkeeper’s head. You are about to shamelessly defy the shop’s policy on mikopo - again - and you need to be strong. You need to focus on the prize and not make room for obstacles and distractions. Like that sticker.

The one or two customers in the shop should be people who do not know you. Because are you honestly comfortable with letting your neighbour(s) be witness(es) to your borrowing ways? Besides, you may catch the shopkeeper at a bad time when he is in a foul mood, and he might blurt out that you still owe him last month’s deni and he is not sure about giving you that unga and paraffin because your chronic debt-defaulting is spiralling out of control.

Should someone who knows you come into the shop and find you there, immediately pretend you have a very important incoming phone call and quickly walk out of the shop to ‘receive’ it. That way, the shopkeeper will attend to them and they will leave, then you will be able to end your imaginary phone call and get back into the shop. The duration of that fake call will be determined by the length of time that person who knows you will be in the shop.

If you do not have your phone with you, immediately pretend that you are looking for something in your pockets or your (hand)bag. Pat your pockets in feigned panic. Rummage through your (hand)bag in feigned distress. Let out a fake shriek of horror when you cannot ‘find’ what you are looking for, then rush outside to see if maybe you ‘dropped it’ somewhere. The amount of time you spend ‘looking for’ your fictional lost item is equal to the amount of time the shopkeeper will spend attending to that person, and you will miraculously find your non-existent item the minute that person steps out of the shop.

If you pull this off effortlessly, consider a career in acting. You are gifted.

Before you give the shopkeeper a detailed history of your problems so that he can understand that you come from a long line of rich people and that you are not trying to break the tradition, greet him. Jovially. Cheerfully. As though you are thrilled to see him. Laugh a little. Ask him how he has been. Inquire about his family. Comment on the weather. Compliment his hideous shirt. And when he, in slight embarrassment, says: “Aaai this old shirt?” Please put his insecurities to rest, by assuring him that it is one of the best shirts you have ever seen.

Loudly observe the political heat engulfing the country. Mention something about his favourite football team in positive light. Nod profusely in total agreement to everything he says, even if some of those things offensively go against everything you stand for. You want to make him feel comfortable and at ease, like he can trust you. To be able to borrow stuff from his shop, he has to feel like he trusts you. Like you will not move to another town and leave a huge debt, consequently making him develop deep-seated trust issues between him and his customers.

Make promises

Now that you have won his trust, tell him about that unga and paraffin, promising to pay for them as soon as you get some money. Use words like “kesho,” “next week” and “mwisho wa mwezi” to convince him that you will clear that debt in good time. Casually mention your (mythical) certificate of good conduct to boost his confidence in you.

Talk to him humbly and respectfully, almost in reverence, and in a low tone as if he is your father. Feel embarrassed and show it. This will communicate to him that borrowing is not your usual behaviour which will encourage him to give you the items you need.

Once you have the loot in your hands, thank the shopkeeper then compliment his hideous shirt again and swear you will look for an exact shirt.

Most importantly, clear your debt as soon as you can. Or, at least, part of it.

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