SON OF PROBLEMS

SON OF PROBLEMS (WA MATHINA)

By Hussein Muchiri

When my grandmother wailed loudly that our grandfather had spent his pension visiting a well known witch doctor to ensure none of his lineage will succeed, we called her an obsessed woman. In fact, a few uncles said she needed a good beating since her old memory had failed her and she no longer knew the place of a man in her life. But today I can firmly,without fear of contradiction or favour of protocols, claim that my grandmother was 300% right. Like grandchildren, regrets have come later in my life. 

To exactly know what I am talking about, let me take you round a bit. Am married to a muslim but am christian. So according to the religious calendar, about a month or so enjoying coital en-joinery is a pipe dream. But the principal back in high school used to say " a cock that wanted to see Jesus at midnight,died at 11.45pm." More so, Lord Del Amere Snr who  my grandfather used to work for as a milking  man,(but told villagers he was a veterinary officer) used to say fore warned is fore armed. So, as a wise Corinthian(Mukurino), i do not wait for the choir master to lead the song. I am already picking the rhythm with the drum beats. So i have successfully armed my life with two side kick plans alias extra marital affairs, to  ensure that all those village witches who spend their nights on graves to make dryspell the order of my life are put to shame. But i tell you even if i did not witness it, satan is circumcised. I can attest to this since when i called my first side chick, she had a terrible STI and she wanted me to accompany her as the doc said it was necessary to tag along her sexual partner during the next check up. That alone is a reason to evade her like Ebola for the next month. But as a wise one i never lack alternative so i call my alternative c, but her clogged voice and teary croaks are indication that her monthly time was due; she was in her menstrual period. Just like that, i "went drying." Satan is not a boy.

I walked back to my house dejected and rejected, like a kid who just had had his buttocks injected. Why do bad things happen to good people? At this exact moment, i want the earth and skies  to pass away as predicted in Revelation 21:1, so that I could meet my Creator and get an explanation for this cold treatment. Then an idea struck me. I should kill myself. Yes. Death is sweet, it only have a bad name, i assured myself.
To Mogaka's shop i head. Armed with ksh.33, am assured of getting a rite of passage from this shop. I want to hang myself so i ask for a rope. But because my neck does not like pain and its a prayerful part of the body, the rope price is ksh.45. I am almost taking the rope on credit but i read a loud poster on the wall "For credit come tomorrow". I give up. Mogaka does not have rat poison  in stock so i head to the next only other shop. The shop is operated by one old man who used to be a home guard to a colonial master. His name is Watony. Watony looks at my face when i ask for rat poison,and lie that its the rats in my house i want to eliminate. Just like that, he hates the shape of my nose. So he subjects me to  thorough questioning and grilling. Amongst the questions is the size of my rats, the names of the rats and the source of our quarrel with the said rats. He goes on  to quote the Bible Deutronomy 14, the list of animals one can eat. Rats is not one of them. Time is money, and who am i to waste my time on useless questions of a colonially brainwashed old man? I give up on suicide.

Yani, when life fucks you even death runs away from you? But its no biggie, because...

Am a Son of ProblemS