SOUTH B: EXILES AND COLD NIGHTS (part 1)
The history of deception was first registered in my mind just the moment I finished high school. Fellow Kapsabetians creatively lured the innocent me into believing the paradise that was Kenyan universities. Some said those girls from Kapsabet Girls High school and Kipsigis girls I crushed on were just but newbies where beauty is concerned. I was sent into a glorious fantasy, unknown to me is the misery of being exiled without a place to go! Let me beat you a story.
On that cold Thursday evening I came home from school. From Riara to South B is just a walking distance if you know the panya routes well.I passed by my favourite mutura guy and supplied my stomach with his perfect delicacies. I erased the sweat on my beautifully framed forehead,the one ladies from KMTC Kenyatta once fought over,as the hot chilli played its tactics on my lips and tongue.
When I reached my place I found Clif. Clif is the kind of guy who will miss all the classes and exist as if nothing happened. He was so handsome that at times I wished I was a woman. His cute eyes coupled with extremely great lying capabilities got him laid almost everyday. I saw all these through the lens of my innocent eyes and if asked whether I would want to be a woman, I will just ask you to kill me and eat my balls for breakfast.
On this day he was calm. He was listening to Sanaipei Tande. I know it because Sanaipei was a great friend of my gallery on those days I played with my skin. Mfalme wa mapenzi was the song. Is she married yet? If not, kindly let me know so that I can send my proposal. Si age is just a number? Shame on you!
Clifford had prepared supper; Rice,beans and stew made of coriander, black pepper, onions, carrots and tomatoes. He surprised the stew with slices of avocados, their nudity resembling the colour of Afya centre. While eating I couldn’t fail to notice his cooking skills were on another level. Whatever the occasion, he didn’t mention. I was still on my early missions when suddenly we heard a knock on the door.
“Mada kudish uchomoke ntakutext,” he told me. I was so furious because I knew this was one of the languages spoken in introduction to exile. Welcome to Nairobi babe!
We said no word with the lady that I learnt later clif didn’t even know the name. Yet there was something between us that moment we locked eyes. There was fire and hatred in her eyes.In mine,there was a different literature I berelieved she read. Inside my eyes was beautifully crafted prose that told her she was smelling like overcooked indomie. That from that moment I saw her bringing her temple to be refurbished I hated her. What a form of intimacy!
I took myself to a nearby church. For the bars were too expensive for a broke first year who doesn’t have friends who drink. I need to gratify some needs. I needed to escape. South B, a worldwide known Kisii village was not my home, so I thought. And without looking back I switched off my phone and tucked myself into that church not knowing when it would end so that I can be vomited out to the streets.
