Friday, 25 May 2018
WRITTEN WORD; MY STORY: LAUGHTER IN THE SLAVERY by Mwaura Karagu
WRITTEN WORD; MY STORY: LAUGHTER IN THE SLAVERY by Mwaura Karagu: I will never forget my experience in that cell LAUGHTER IN THE SLAVERY There is a reason I do not like Hussein yet at the same tim...
LAUGHTER IN THE SLAVERY by Mwaura Karagu
I will never forget my experience in that cell |
LAUGHTER IN THE SLAVERY
There is a reason I do not like Hussein yet at the same time
you cannot afford to avoid him and his friendship. One time he is busy cracking
your ribs with escapades he went through while growing up and the next moment
he is putting you in trouble with almost everyone. With your boss. With his boss.With police.
With your girlfriend and even skunks. The idiot is made to attract trouble
even when you are not expecting it. You go with him to a club and he abuses
those miraba minne bouncers then
points at you and tells them, “Don’t try to be stupid or my bodyguard will slap
your bare behinds and throw you out.” How many times have we left those joints
with blackened eyes and humps protruding on our heads from a clean beating we
get from bouncers? I do not like Hussein. He is not my friend. He is just that
malady you cannot avoid.
You cannot avoid him because sometimes you must visit his
homeland with him. While there, his lovely mother will feed you as if she has
been sent to kill you with food. The starters will range from nuts to oranges
to bananas and sometimes even sugarcane. Chickens will be assassinated in your
honor and your plate, nay, tray will be stuffed with drumsticks, the gizzard
and other chicken parts. The soup will be in a separate bowl. The thug’s mother
will have prepared boiled bananas and made some mukimo too. Then the feasting will begin. More will be brought
until she sees tears in your eyes! She will apologize for not feeding you
enough since she was unprepared for your visit! She will then go to her farm
and bring you foodstuffs enough to fill the boot of the car then she would
stand there and watch you with satisfaction that as you go to Nairobi, your needs for almost
two weeks are covered. Next time I take the fool to Kitale he will wish his
mother never tortured me! I will bribe my mother to kill him with food.
There is this one time he abused another fellow whom I understand
is from Kitui and his name is Mutiso. He was Hussein’s coworker. I was there
and as it is expected, I was on his side. We chided him that he is the fattest
man in Kathonzweni yet he is so thin that he can pass through rain without
getting wet. Hussein told him that if he becomes fatter than that, he will be
bewitched.
“Do you know that I can curse both of you by invoking my
ancestors?” threatened Mutiso. Hussein laughed as if he had seen a hyena with
lipstick.
“Fool, do you know that my grandfather would milk an
elephant while seated on a porcupine? I will just scratch my naval and your
organs will start falling one after the other. I come from a clan that just
looks at an eagle from above and it just falls.” Hussein ranted a threat.
“And as for me, do you know that I was circumcised by my drunk
grandmother under the midday sun using a mature sisal fibre? Look here coward, no
form of witchcraft beats that,” I added. Mutiso cursed us more and left us
chewing our herb without a care.
That evening while going to our habitat, Hussein and I met a
group of police officers who stopped us. I knew if we ran away, we would be
shot and the police with help of the media will call us armed thugs. The only thing we were armed with
was a bunch of twigs and groundnuts. We were going to have a gang meeting together
with the other members of the crew Mutheki, the owner of the illegal River
Mbane Bar which doubled up as a brothel, Winnie the mad woman of the group,
Daisy the skunk, Eddy the meek fool and Ken, Hussein’s brother whose love for
the weed was second to none. The police officers were on our back.
“Who are you?” one of them demanded.
“Kenyans,” Hussein answered before I said anything. I was
the sober one so I thought I would talk nicely to them.
“Kenyans, mnatoka wapi na mnaenda wapi usiku?” another one
asked. Before I opened the hole on my face to reply, the idiot had already
answered.
“Kwani apo mko ni mchana tukuje. Mtuachishe sisi twaenda
kuchana. “The next thing we realized, we had been thrown in a black Mariamu
which had been packed nearby. We were taken to the central police station and
thrown into a cell.
I will never forget my experience in that cell. We were met
by mean thugs with bloodshot eyes from years of torture by life and smoking bhang.
One of them held Hussein by the scruff of his shirt and lifted him up. His feet
left the ground and only toes touched the ground. He was shivering. Sweating. Sober
already. Begging. I almost laughed when I remembered the moment early in the
day with Mutiso of Kathonzweni. The idiot had told Mutiso that he was the first
person to snatch a prey from a tiger (yet there are no tigers in Kenya). Here,
the thug was wetting his pants. They finally let us be after we lied to them
that the reason we were incarcerated was because we had hit a police officer with
a car and he was battling with death in a hospital. We became instant heroes. The
food here tasted like soil. I did not even touch it the second time. I gave to
one of the long “serving’’ inmate. The room smelt a mixture of cigarette smoke,
piss, sweat and poop. What a nauseating environment! The jerry can we used to
pee in was in a corner and as it was the rule, it was always the turn of a new “inmate”
to go and empty it in the morning. I was made to do it because Hussein had
already made friends there and was considered a trustee. I couldn’t wait to
leave that place.
Before we were bundled into the cell, we had left Mutheki’s
contacts with the officer in charge just to inform him and the other fools that we were guests of
the state. The following morning the whole crew was there. They had a huge task
of convincing the police that we were law abiding citizens and that we are
honest earners in the streets of Nairobi. In the OB, our crime was listed as ‘’trafficking
bhang.’’ I had never touched nor seen that thing until recently when I had found
Ken smoking it. They paid a ‘’fine’’ of 3000 shillings to secure our release. I
left the cells cursing Hussein. When we told Mutiso what had happened to us, he laughed and told us that next time we tell him that if he is rained on he will smell soup because he is bony, we will see worse.
That is why I don’t like this unavoidable son of the soils
born and brought up in a village in Muranga. My revenge mission is on track. I must
put him in trouble. Deep trouble.
Wednesday, 23 May 2018
THE BELLS by Mwaura Karagu
THE BELLS
As I watched her leave and disappear behind the doors, I thought
that I would never see her again. These are the moments that makes any man
emotional. I wanted to cry. Weep. Just get lost in tears. How could I stand
there and watch the woman I love walk away? I was in a dilemma. I was fixed. I
had no choice. I had to let her go.
She had come to me a week earlier and from the look on her
radiant face, she had good news for me. I looked into her eyes. Eyes that
communicated with mine. Eyes that recited serenades into each other’s heart.
She was the most beautiful human being I had ever known in my life. Her hair
flowed gracefully on her back like a heap of wheat. Her eyes sat on her face
like a pair of njahi floating in
milk. Her lips were placed on her mouth which oozed juicy adoration words. She
was just a drop dead gorgeous princess customized specifically for me.
“David, I have gotten the scholarship,” she sweetly said but
sadly added, “but I am not going anywhere without you.” This she said with a
finality that almost scared me out of my senses. It was going to be difficult
for both of us. We were having a sweet conflict. Do we separate and she goes to
pursue her dream course in journalism and mass communication in Oxford or get
stuck in Kenya with difficult opportunities coming by? At this moment, we
needed the counsel of an experienced hand. I suggested we go to my mother. They
adored each other and I knew that our solution was nigh. We presented our case
to her.
“My son, my daughter, listen to your hearts,” she said. “I
did not raise up a coward. Go to school dear girl and when you come back after
two and a half years, you will find a husband here waiting for you,” my mother
said calmly. “When David’s father was incarcerated for standing against a
despotic regime that was oppressing people, I kept calm and waited until he was
released to freedom. At first, it was difficult but with time, I was able to
cope. I raised my five children for six years alone. Toiling for them so that
they could eat and go to school. My son must have the spirit of his mother and
the energy of his father,” she concluded her speech. Julia and I were both in
tears. We huddled next to our Mother and sobbed then agreed it was possible.
So, when I was seeing her at the airport, just like any
other man, I had my fears. I remembered the Stella song. The story of a girl
who left to go study medicine in Japan and when he came back, she had a baby
and a Japanese husband. I did not want to go through such a pain. I watched her
as she disappeared behind the door leading to the waiting lounge then turned
back to the parking lot. I took a cab and went to the City Park to cogitate. I
was going to miss Julia.
I made a few decisions while leaning on a tree. I made up my
mind that I will ensure that I was too busy to stop thinking too much about
Julia. This was going to be a herculean task but I was positive that I would
make it. I also decided that I was going to focus on my studies and clear my
academic project in Theatre Arts and Film Technology. It was not until two
weeks later that I received a mail from Julia.
Dear delicious David,
I miss you. I arrived
well and I am now settled. I have attended lectures and they are very
interesting. I am looking forward to do investigative journalism. Wait for me.
I will never stop loving you. I will come back to you. I love you King David.
Julia.
Yes. I waited. It was difficult. There were temptations to
move on with many willing girls who thought I had a bright future. I was sure
she was going through the same problems. What kept us together was the constant
communication that we did. Once in a while, we exchanged letters but the most
effective one was mailing and phone text messages.
The day for her arrival from the UK had arrived. I made
arrangements to meet her at the airport together with her mother and the little
brother. We waited at the arrivals lounge. People from different parts of the
world were passing by as they went to their awaiting chauffeurs and taxis. We
saw her. She was as tall as ever. More beautiful. Beside her was a child of about two years who
looked like a half cast of an African and a mzungu. They were holding hands.
Behind her was a burly man of about six feet tall walking briskly pushing a
cart with bags. When they reached where we were standing, they stopped. She
hugged her mother and brother. Tears rolled down their cheeks freely. I did not
interfere. The mzungu and the baby were like me. When the family embrace was
finished, Julia looked at me and gave me a dry smile. She stretched her hand.
No hug! My heart sunk! I felt my stomach churn. It was made worse by her next
words.
“Meet my other family people,” she said while looking at me.
A well of tears was starting to build up in my eyes. It was beyond me. I could
not stand it anymore. I started walking
away. I was sure they were all staring at my back as I went away with my hands
in the pockets. Then I heard her voice.
“King David!” Then they all burst out with their laughter.
“Come back here coward,” I walked back to where they were all standing. She
embraced me and we wept! “Do you in your right mind think that I can stop
loving you? This is my friend John and his son Mike. They are here on holiday
because I told them about magical Kenya. When is our wedding?” I ran to the car
and came back with the ring my mother had given me that morning.
“Can you first agree to this? Will you marry me?”
“Yes I do King David.” And there was a cheering squad around
us!
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