It’s been a long time, but I am good, sina
varu varu. (I don’t know what they are, but I am sure I do not
have them).
The weekend was fabulous to say the least
and as always it brought with it some tales of the weekend.
I went home early on Friday evening, I dint
want to stay in town first because of the security situation,and because I had really missed lil man.
Especially because he talks to me on phone nowadays. He laughs, says “mama”, “tata” (sasa) and
laughs again then says “byebye”. It is the best conversation I get to engage in all day, every day of the working
week. I can call home three times trying to get him while he is awake and in a good mood. They get moody
too u know!
In the matatu, next to me was sited this
beautiful, slim and vibrant girl of Somali origin. This
should tell you that she was very beautiful.
Her hairline perfect like that of a new born child and her hair curled effortlessly. She held it in a pony
tail. She was simple. She did not get her eyes off her phone screen. She is generation Y. She text
endlessly. One minute the phone was pocketed and the next minute, texts were flying. I missed the life
of not carrying handbags, not having to go home with a file because you have to submit a report the next
morning. I hated that you can hardly
pocket while in official clothes. How I miss campus life.
She must be in high school this damsel.
“Niko poa, mi wameniachilia, imagine hata
sikulipa kitu. Yeaaa niko poa imagine, heeee si Stacy
amekataa kuandikisha statement, ye amebaki
huko na ako na sus ya one year. (Silence) Mi
nimeandikisha statement nikasema vile
ilikuwa, nikaachiliwa. Thanks gal” (am well, they have released me without bond. And am well though I had to
record a statement, Stacy refused so she is still under arrest and has been given a suspension from
school for an year.)
This gal has just been released from a
police cell. I felt shivers down my spine. I could not resist to ask this, “Are you from jail?” I mindlessly
threw the question without giving it a thought process. She was pleasant. She smiled warmly and said “Imagine,
am from central police, was there all night and day.” She was not looking shabby. They must really
be improving the prison facilities, I thought to myself. I couldn’t keep thinking, I wanted this story
so badly so I empathize briefly and probe further. She had her fiend Stacy are not in high school, they
attend a medical school and their hostel are next to The Nairobi Hospital , She tells me that they
are not allowed to have visitors in their room, at all. She broke the rule and had visitors overnight. Am not
shocked by this, it was a norm back in campus, What shocks me is that they had to be arrested? What did
these visitors do? I am on a serious mission to satisfy my curiosisity so I go on. “ Who has bailed you
out?” “My boyfriend’ she says, “so you had been arrested with him?” “ No the visitors were female. Okay so why would female visitors get one to
the police cell, and you have to record a statement , and
your friend has a suspension? Well I did not want to ask much. I told her how it was a brutal thing to do
to them . She then picked a white piece of fluff from my blackpencil skirt and gently wipes off some dust
that I had not noticed I had if I really had it. I stare at her with no comment, did she want me to end up in jail
too?!
She stretches her had ove to the next seat. A young man, you could tell he was tall even though
he was sited. She runs he hair through his rugged hair before introducing me to him as the
boyfriend. I pitied the guy!! This girl can confuse any man, this one had just paid bail. She quicky turns back to
me and tells me she now doesn’t wish to live in the hostels any longer, the environment there is not
welcoming. She wants to move to my hood, and she wants me to help her find a house. This damsel, to
live on 10th Street, don’t we have enough 10th street
drama already?
Her name is Remmy. I alighted at
the next stop. Remmy’s texts on whether I have found a
house for her started stalking me two hours
after I alighted from the bus. She is calling me swiry, I really don’t want to be a visitor in a hostel and
end up in a police cell, so I give her
no attention. I answer none of her “swiry” texts. But she wont stop
texting.
I had a textful weekend
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