THE FIRST ARREST: UNFORGATABLE

No one ever forgets the first time they fall on the wrong side of the government’s long arms. No one. Not even your village’s madman. First experiences are unforgettable; one because they are life changing and two because they are just first experiences meen.First sex, first kiss, first alcoholic drink, first girlfriend… Any first sin is unforgettable. And you’re right, I just called your girlfriend a sin.

I know your vile imaginations are now mechanizing some possible reasons for my arrest. That it either had to be a bank I robed or the woman I inherited before her husband’s death. Chill bro, reasons for my arrest are far worse than anything your mundane mind can concoct.
But it was in Nairobi,that you got right. Every bad thing starts from the big city does it not? Back in your village don’t they say your old village mad man visited the city as a young man to work for your local MP as a house boy and after 20 years he came back nuts. Or the other one, yeah the delirious swaggish kijana. They say he went to the big University in the big city where he read too much books, became too clever until cleverness spoiled his head.

This city of sin is evil I tell you. And it’s most unwelcoming to us village boys who knows so little of her sinful ways. My Dad used to recount stories of how long ago Luos coming to Narobi believed their brother Tom Mboya had built a boarding house for all Luos. They were disappointed to find out that uncle Tom only had a sculpture curved in his image and a street named after him.
But I do digress.

Now where were we? Oh year that fateful Friday two years ago. I was staying with my older brother in pipeline Embakasi. My brother had left for work with instructions for me to go to KUCCPS office in Upperhill and pick my cousin’s inter- University transfer letter. Of course he wrote these instructions on a piece of paper because I wake at 10 am like the plezdent Kingston I am. And my brother is a cool bro so he let me have at it.
With the instructions was a sh. 500 note for an Uber since my knowledge of my way around the city was almost non -existent.

Of course I took no Uber. I would rather get lost in town with a cool sh.500 in my pocket than take a bloody Uber. My grandfather did not fight in the second world war for me to take Ubers like an imbicile.
Long story short, after applying all the laws of Isaac Newton, Adolf Hitler and all the other laws my ancestors taught me, I finally got to KUCCPS offices precisely at 4:30 pm. I collected the letter from some bitter looking feminist secretary and was just about to leave when this Meru girl strode in. She too had come for similar appointment. And to those of you who do not know this fine ghel, well let’s just say she’s from the social sciences school in my campus, Kisii University and I had the longest crush on her until she fed me so much blue ticks I almost turned blue.
” Aki nTony pia wewe ugo hapa”, she flashed me one of those smiles they say is contagious.
Now this Meru queen is light skinned fine ghel curved just in the right places.
” Si uningoje nimalize nduende na wewe”, again another smile.
They say every dog has its day. I’m not a dog but I’m sure as hell this was my day. In my mind I was already rehearsing my lyrics. Polishing them bright like Chebukati’s head. I was going to feed this girl lyrics like KDF.

She finished and we left. She laughed at my exaggerated tale of how I had almost failed to find my way to Upper Hill and asked if I had never heard of Google maps. Well, I’m a villager. I knows no such things. I don’t even know girls, she is the only girl I know. Another smile. A blush perhaps, I can’t tell the difference.

Soon we were at the parliament’s gates.
“Tonny si unipinge picha”, she said handing me her new Oppo with the camera on.
“But the police..”, I started before she stopped me, explaining that there was no Askari around. A quick surveillance around and I spotted no one in uniform. Only “DON’T TAKE PICTURES” graffiti.
“Aki I need more likes for the ig”.
When a beautiful girl asks you to do something you’ve got to do it. Ama? I took few quick snaps and handed back her phone, eager to praise myself as a talented photographer.
Just as we were about to take a turn towards the Supreme court, a guy approached as. I thought he was one of those strangers who stops people on the streets to ask them if they have accepted Jesus as their personal saviour.

The next thing I knew I was already in handcuffs.
“Raia you’re under arrest for taking pictures near parliament buildings”.
This son of a bitch was a police officer in civilian. And my fit bird was left scot free with a mild warning never to allow random guys to take pictures of her beautiful self near the parliament buildings. You can’t imagine my disappointment- for lack of a better word- as I watched leave. Okey, may be you can imagine a little.

As she left, I was being shoved towards that cell behind the parliament buildings to be charged for the criminal offence of taking pictures around parliament buildings and in the process threatening the life of the president of the Republic.
After much begging, crying and doing everything my ancestors would disdain I was left to go at 8pm without UBER’S sh.500 that I had saved albeit with much trouble.

This Earth my brother.