If you didn’t read part one, click here
He looked at me. I was scared to bits. On his face, he had multiple scars; an evidence of engaging in multiple gang fights. He lifted his left hand while gazing at me and formed a tight fist. By the look of it, I had underestimated his age. He was huge despite his young looking body. He gazed at me as if knowing am already scared and brought his formed-fist closer to my arm. I realized he was telling me to punch back as a form of greeting. The ‘gotta’ thing we usually did at campus. I formed a fist too and returned the favor by making our fists meet. However, even after I did that, Kevin did not smile a single bit. He waved at me, pushed open the door, and walked away in front of my car. I watched him in shock as he walked with quick short steps towards the corners of the buildings and disappeared along the Aga Khan Walk path just at KenCom Building.
I breathed out the air I had saved before he lifted his arm. My left hand was already on my chest as I sat in awe and wonder. I told myself I had to be extremely careful the next time such stuff happens. However, I was glad because I did something positive. Nevertheless, I felt bad because of the kind of work this young man who got full of life engaged in. I started wishing I had educated him or else assisted him get other ways to earn clean cash. I held my heart again. It had stopped beating as it previously was. I started imagining that I had sat inside the same car with a murderer and I could not believe it myself.
‘What is the guy upto?’
‘He has been following me since I got out of school’ Sherry said to herself.
She refuted boarding to hire a taxi to take her home and she is regretting now. A tall hooded man has been following her close behind. He takes every corner she takes; he increases and lowers his speed as sherry does.
Sherry was a university girl pursuing Linguistics at undergraduate level. She had heard stories and seen ladies followed by weird looking guys and the worst could be heard of them later. She had a tight mini-skirt and a top complement with red heels and that jungle jacket covering her upper part of the body.
She continued talking to herself,
‘Is this guy following me because he has seen my legs or what?’ she walked fast as she pulled down her skirt to cover her upper part of the legs but could not make it. It was too short and the man was not stopping. It was getting dark. Seven o’clock was almost hitting. The sun had already being submerged to the west and those dark clouds had already started to colonize the entire sky. She had golden- coated earrings too. She removed them hurriedly and kept them in her purse. She got hold of her phone and dialed a call to her mum.
‘’….leave a message…’’
She got angry and reshuffled the phone back to her purse. The man kept following her as if scrutinizing what she was upto.
By: Melting Ice Towers | Sunday 22nd January |8:56pm |
[The ‘Shamba’ Boy Chronicles Episode 1]
I gladly alighted from the ‘pimped’ dark blue ‘Nuclear Sacco’ matatu that ferried passengers from a certain interior part of Central Province to the famed Nairobi City. This was my first visit to the city. Before then, I had preconceived notions about the city. It was a place of wonder ranging from:- exquisite fun, tall buildings, underground roads I hear in Thika Road,topless women who walk like they own the city and the most derogatory people of all time, the pickpockets! I wanted to see all the kind of things I have been hearing from my grandma’s torch-radio.
I was a 22-year-old jobless man who did not have a chance to study as my fellow village herdsmen and quarry men since my childhood. Life had hit me so hard in the village until my mum sent me here for a survival mission. I will tell you more about the mission later. My mum advised me just before I left home to at least present myself as familiar to the city lets people would take advantage of me. I was 23 but I was a mama’s boy. Am proud of that. She had been my only parent for 23 good years.
As I was busy staring at the ‘Maathai’ Supermarket Banner on the retail business building, I remembered I had some luggage inside the ‘matatu’. It was a sack of potatoes and a 50 kg bag full of dried maize. Ugali was my favorite meal. I would eat it with anything including water or just like that. I hurriedly walked at the back of the matatu and met the matatu ‘boot’ closed. I quickly opened it and checked my luggage. It was notinside.