Category Archives: behaviour
Click here if you didn’t read Part One
‘Get some strong sticks’ Carl requested
‘Strong…? Are those not strong?’
‘Strong enough to burrow the soil’
‘Okay’ Liz responded as she bent plucking and picking the fallen rods of firewood. She was humming her favorite song.
Carl was digging the graves of their two sons, Greg and Colly. They had only noticed by the lockets on their necks they had bought during birthdays. Liz was busy fetching sticks to excavate the soil. They were no ‘jembes’ or ‘pangas’ around.
After some hours the grave was ready. It was just a minimal trench that would fit the remains of the two sons. As they carried the sooty-grotesque bodies, tears from Liz eyes dripped.
‘Hold the lower part of the limbs as I hold this upper side.’ Carl said as he held the fluffy part of the head.
As they reached the grave like structure, Carl positioned the head down slowly and gazed at Liz.
‘Put it down slowly’
They buried their sons in the island. They pushed the soil back to the grave. They lay wild flowers which Liz had plucked from a certain bush. She sat on a certain granitic rock and stared at Carl. She remembered of her huge house in Washington D.C. where there were teeming city streets, glass skyscrapers, glitters and glitz and also the luxurious landscapes.
‘Was life made to be like this? We have lost our sons. They are barely 16yrs. What a life?’ Liz questioned as she gazed above.
‘Problems come in life Liz. This one was unexpected. You should even thank God for saving your life. You are alive and kicking.’ Carl responded
‘Its…’Liz was cut short
‘That doesn’t mean am not sobbing the death of our sons. I’m also grieving their loss’ he said as he squatted on the grassy area.
‘Carl, why aren’t you sad, I see you smiling; no sad face; is there something you are keeping behind my ass? Liz asked.
‘Honey, men are always jovial; by the way do you see men crying in burial?’
‘To some extent, I don’t. But don’t you feel pain for your own flesh and blood? Did their demise mean anything to you?’ Liz questioned holding her chin.
‘As a man, I feel it in my heart, but I can’t bear showing it physically like you do. Just don’t be angst-ridden.’ He responded
If you didn’t read part one, click here
He looked at me. I was scared to bits. On his face, he had multiple scars; an evidence of engaging in multiple gang fights. He lifted his left hand while gazing at me and formed a tight fist. By the look of it, I had underestimated his age. He was huge despite his young looking body. He gazed at me as if knowing am already scared and brought his formed-fist closer to my arm. I realized he was telling me to punch back as a form of greeting. The ‘gotta’ thing we usually did at campus. I formed a fist too and returned the favor by making our fists meet. However, even after I did that, Kevin did not smile a single bit. He waved at me, pushed open the door, and walked away in front of my car. I watched him in shock as he walked with quick short steps towards the corners of the buildings and disappeared along the Aga Khan Walk path just at KenCom Building.
I breathed out the air I had saved before he lifted his arm. My left hand was already on my chest as I sat in awe and wonder. I told myself I had to be extremely careful the next time such stuff happens. However, I was glad because I did something positive. Nevertheless, I felt bad because of the kind of work this young man who got full of life engaged in. I started wishing I had educated him or else assisted him get other ways to earn clean cash. I held my heart again. It had stopped beating as it previously was. I started imagining that I had sat inside the same car with a murderer and I could not believe it myself.
It was on a Saturday morning. It was one of my unusual days in town since I didn’t have an aim visiting the place. I just wanted to rotate around the place, get to know the city and manoeuvre through the city tunnels, lifts, etc to see new places and to meet new individuals maybe to lit up my world. Not that I was a desperate woman but I hadn’t found my solace yet.I believed that some day, I would bump into someone great. It was such a strong belief such that I got at loggerheads with my friends because of it. I just needed positive thoughts about it especially at the age I was at.
Kelly Wambui Is my name. My few friends call me Kelly. I completed my undergraduate at 24 with a Bachelor Of Medicine N Surgery at Moi University and went ahead and mastered in Pediatrics. I haven’t done my PhD but am still planning to venture into it soon. My current age is 35. I am a doctor during the day at some hospital in Thika. During the night, I am a single woman who does her stuff inside my rented compound at Nairobi’s South B Estate.
This specific Saturday, I wanted to manoeuvre through town maybe I could get a new opportunity. I mean, I needed a man. Back in campus, I was the reserved type. I was an introvert. I didn’t want anything to do with “boys”. I called them. I just knew them to be fuck boys or hit and runs. That’s why I remained chaste for my 6 years at Campus. However, I still regret why I didn’t get someone there. When I came to do my masters, almost all the women we studied with were married and the men too. They all had families. I was the only single humanbeing there. I still didn’t feel complete. What I craved at the moment, was a family. People I would get back to at home and spend the night with; Buy shopping for my family and have a sense of belonging. That’s what I longed for.
HIGHRISE, KIBERA ROAD.
This happened last week on Friday Night. It was a long night as I can remember. As usual, people who have just come to college must enjoy as they say. Yeah, we must enjoy. I was in that category of people. I really enjoyed night raves and booze. A little bhang (ndom) too and not forgetting ‘muguka’ (jaba) complemented with ‘njugu – karanga’. The last stimulant was my appetizer before now the actual drinks. This was my schedule during the weekends. My after-Friday schedule was very tight due to the hunger I had to at-least taste these things. “tulikuwa tunachana hadi zinashika. Najifeel niko hukoooooo” cloud 9. I knew it’s gonna lit up every Friday evening.
Let me tell you a brief history about me. I am a tall dark student. My name is Ojaamong. I live in Caanan Estate – A newly established gated estate along the Highrise – Kibera route. My friends normally call me “The Bull”. The bull because I am the know-everything type of person. I guide them home too when we are all drunk and also protect them from bandits. Nobody would like to go to the club without consulting Bull. Sometimes, I get free drinks just to take the other students out so they can feel safe under my cover. To touch a little bit of my education level, I am a 2nd Year Business Administration student at a university Around the place I live. I am a sharp Student though this drugs are kinda taking me to a cloud that makes me deviate from my normal reasoning. At the moment, I feel they are taking away my intelligence gradually.
Let’s keep off the block stories. The story today was about that Friday. Last week’s pre-weekend partying. It happened in a way that wasn’t expected. Friday 19th was the date. In my business class, normally on Friday’s, the turn up is low for Students. They take it as a holiday. But the few present, dress like they have come to stay for a few moments and later walk out to the clubs. Men have their clad well put while the women are dressed to impress and arouse the “creativity” of a “holy man”. Let’s not get into the details. Since it’s Friday, new partnerships are usually formed. If last week you had some lady, you get to choose another. It’s a day where men get ditched for other men and ladies get Dumped for some better curves, looks and tastes.
Yeah, that was a Friday. You get to feel good when you bumped on a good partner. Are these the so called “prayer partners”? I don’t know.
So this Friday. We ganged up. This time round, we didn’t want to include the ladies. It was to happen in my newly acquired Bedsitter at Caanan Estate. The house was big to accommodate like a dozen booze gamblers. I got my two friends Kamau and Kipyegon. When it came to “kuchana” and booze, there was no crossing on tribal lines. It was something that was soo cordial. We were brothers in this thing. Since class was over, we hurriedly rushed through past the gates and got on the Highrise – kibera route. We actually didn’t want the ladies to start booking us for the weekend. We walked for the short distance. We arrived at Caanan Estate in about some minutes. I hurriedly walked ahead of my two ninjas as I directed them to my room. It was in the 1st floor of the 5-storey rentals. I opened the door and allowed them to get inside. I locked the door with my keys and left the key inside the lock. I had two sofa sets on which they plastered themselves knowing Bull had something great to offer.
The room was dark with red lighting. I didn’t want to open the windows. I opened my bag and placed it on the small glass table at the centre of the two guys. I took a blue plastic chair and sat as a third party. My bag was at the centre. I removed the countable rolls of bhang, three “mzingas” and a lot of “muguka” which was covered in seven khaki bags. Today was our day. My friends shouted in overwhelmed joy as we debated on what to start with.
“This is more sweeter than Joyline ” Kipyegon said as he referred to a certain classmate whilst channeling the muguka deep inside his jaws.
We all bursts into laughter as we joined in the picking of the preferred fun.
“Bull, kwani wapi Glasses?”
“Pia. Weka ngoma msee…”
I slowly got up and removed three wine glasses and placed them On the glass table. I crawled on my knees towards the sound system and plugged it on. I put my favorite Genre of music which was reggae and roots mixes. As the first song hit the air, I could feel the cold drink going through my warm intestines. I slowly increased the bass +3 and reduced the treble – 3. I gradually put on the volume to a staggering VOL 19. Only our heads could move as we sat on the chairs grounded as if our butts had being super-glued to our seats.
Kamau would take some bit of the dried leaves and use a paper from his accounts book to make a cigarette-like bar of which he would smoke in real gusto. The spacious Bedsitter was now a smoking zone. The air around was reeking of freshly smoked “ndom”. This is what we enjoyed most. The feeling of being “high” had already taken over in 45 minutes. I could feel myself as if I was floating in the air. The feeling of greatness and grandiosity had started to express itself. I began shouting at the top of my voice as I jumped holding the full length bottle of “mzinga”. The beat was soo strong and the type of music that I loved was full in my ears. I could feel it in my nerves as it made me breakdance better than my fellow classmates. Kipyegon knew the best dances of their tribe. The dances in which you kinda dance with one leg as you rotate the other. It was crazy. “Muratina” dance by Kamau was the most astonishing type of dance. It lacks a description in the English Oxford dictionary.
new highrise estate [CAANAN ESTATE]
The time was rushing. It was now 9pm at night. Kipyegon and Kamau were “stoned” to the occiput by the “makali” substances. They just lay there as I continued chewing the muguka nonstop. I mean, it had become a hobby. My teeth were all green. Kipyegon’s too. I could feel bits of leaves stuck in my teeth and using my rough tongue, I would remove and swallow them with some “mzinga”
After about an hour. We decided to get out and take a stroll in the noisy KIBERA area. It was just a day to the party nomination exercise. So the campaigns were still ongoing. We walked out of the house and I locked the door from the outside. We wanted to visit the club and at least fish some stray ladies as we walked. We slowly got out of the gate as we walked in high spirits. By any chance that one would come across our way, we would beat them Up mercilessly. That’s the extent to which we had been stoned at the moment. We walked as we scared away pedestrians who walked home at that time. I was the one leading the way as they followed me in unison. Kamau was still holding a cigarette in his fingers. We arrived at a certain club inside the slum. It wasn’t that well up like normal pubs. In this place, we were assured of getting cheap drinks and some club women. We sat at a certain round table Together as we ordered extra drinks on our table. We hadn’t got enough of what we had at my room. The beat inside the house was rhyming well with the dances inside the club. To people who used bhang like me, such music was my kind of thing. We all got up and started taking it to the floor as we danced ourselves to the beat.
Just then, there was a loud bang. Due to the effect, Of the sound, I was a bit “unstonned” . I shook. People inside the club had started running away from the club. It was something to do with the party nominations. I could hear the names of some aspirants. Kipyegon stepped on top of the tables and jumped outside. I couldn’t wait too. I followed suit. Kamau followed me as we traced Kipyegon. I guess due to his tribal background, we couldn’t even see his feet, he had already disappeared in the dark. Kamau was soo drunk to the occiput such that he couldn’t even be able to run. He fell and landed inside a ditch. I stopped back and tried to pull him out but couldn’t. He was too heavy. I left him and ran for safety. The police were on my back. They had visualized me. I guess they had confused me with the guy who was causing the chaos in the area. They planned their game and soon caught up with me. I was beaten and several injured by their clubs. Within minutes, I was mauled inside their trucks. Surprisingly, we were many inside the carriage. Some of the people Inside were fellow classmates while others were residents of Highrise area. However, there was no sight of Kipyegon nor Kamau. I was the only one who had been tracked.
In no time, we landed inside a police station. We were ejected roughly under strict supervision towards the inner cells inside the police station. I specifically was locked up inside a cell with older men. My clothes attracted their nostrils as they asked me where I have been getting bhang. They had already recognized it in my clothes. I couldn’t answer any of them. I couldn’t even sit on the floor, the place was dirty and watery. At the corner was a bucket. It was full of urine and definitely faeces at the bottom. Suddenly, one of the quiet guys in the corner called the cell officer and informed them that the bucket to urinate was full. In a rude shock, he was told to defecate on the bucket or on the floor. Since he was pressed, he urinated on the full bucket as urine flooded inside the cell. Some bits of faeces too (coats of beans and maize) were being carried away by the moving urine towards the entire corners of the cell. I stood on one shoe since one of my shoes had got lost during the chase.
I was confused. The alcohol level had subsidized in my occiput. I was reasoning again. Why was I caught?
I didn’t understand why I was inside a police cell. I realized it was on Saturday already because the 5am birds had already started humming. The alcohol had already been metabolized and I was standing on a full bladder. I too had to urinate on the walls of the cell. I couldn’t hesitate. I turned to my side of the wall and opened my urethral sphincters. We were about 15 people in a 2 by 2 cell. You can imagine the stench.
The sun was already stretching out its rays. Around 7.30am, a certain soldier came to the cell I was in and opened the door. He removed me forcefully and told me to get to the desk. There, I found my friends Kipyegon and Kamau, they had come to bail me out.
Truly, I had met a new home. That was the government cell. I promised myself to behave again and be a better person. I knew that I was deteriorating in memory slowly. I knew this drugs weren’t good but I kept taking them. I vowed to stop drugs and to move forward. I also want to make new friends and open a new chapter of Life.
This is part 5 of this story
Bella and Baron
I screamed soo loudly as I bow down my head in a bid to curb the pain inflicted on my fingers. The pain was too much to bear. I could feel the cartilage and collateral ligaments of my knee dancing to the excruciating pain forcing me to stay on the grimy floor as I writhed as a dying snake. My eyes were fixed on my broken finger as I visualized a white colored bone on it. It was broken. I mean, my finger was broken and it had exposed even the phalanges. I kept on wailing at the top of my voice until there was no sound coming from my mouth again. All my mouth and my facial muscles did were look like I was wailing but unfortunately, no sound could manage to come out.
‘My God!’ I screamed. What had he turned to? I mean, I thought Boyka was the one who had inscribed this utmost Satanism in him. At this moment, I had no doubt he was the real ‘proprietor’. I gazed at him. I was still crying at the top of my voice as I slowly writhed away from him. I could not even walk; I walked on my knees just like a toddler as I calculated to what extent I was to the door. All I wanted for now was to escape the whole mess that I had got myself into.
He slowly came forward and sat on his desk. He sat right on the place he had cut my finger on. To be much more vivid, his buttock had sat on my blood. I pushed myself quickly towards the corner near the door. I now feared him for sure. He was not going to help me at any cost. My heart was trembling so hard such that I could feel it beating. I gazed at him. I felt so bad for having assisted him get out of the club. This is what it cost me. To start with, I was naked, I hadn’t eaten a thing, I was smelling my own feaces , I had been roughed up, I had almost been raped and lastly, I had lost a finger. All this because of helping someone who I thought was my to-be boyfriend get home safely.
[THE DANGEROUS LIVES OF LONG DISTANCE TRUCK DRIVERS ]
Mombasa (Kwakiziwi Region)
Issa rolled on his king-sized bed with a bat’s eye and stretched his arm to the left switching off the noisy alarm. The time was 2am on Wednesday morning. His right hand was numb due to the spooning posture he had lain with his wife Alika. Alika in Swahili means ‘most beautiful’. He stealthy removed his arm from his wife’s bosom and sat on the bed; His feet touching the cold linoleum floor. He needed to be on his truck by 3am to kick off the long journey to Uganda. He was a truck driver whose return to home formulae had been critically disorganized. The last time he had managed to be home was 3 months ago. He had just arrived the previous night to meet his family; wife and two kids who are in nursery school. He had not even spent 24hrs at his vicinity. He was now getting ready to take off. Before he got out of the bed, Alika, his wife, tagged him using her leg.
‘Hey Babe? What’s up?’ she asked as she rubbed her eyes due to the effect of the bright fluorescent tube above them.
‘I have to be going. This is what we live on. It’s where I get my income.’ He responded as he stretched his hand and beckoned Alika to come closer. She was accustomed to these kind messages for some time now. She could not imagine the solitude-ness and how hard it was to stay without her husband for months. She had survived all the times. She felt it as a heavy burden on her. All in all, she had to agree to that fact.
Our school, under the new management of a principal who did not know how we had been governed all through had become a hell of a place. He introduced an entire set or rules that affected us adversely in his benefits. Obedient and smart boys go to boarding high school and return home as redundant, hard headed and stiff like a rock. They are changed boys and in most cases, to the worst. High school is the one of the places that could make a young man a bad man for the rest of their lives.
Creative Works By: Ken N Speranza
Today is June 1st 2016. We are in this part of the world that has become extremely party-engrossed every day of the week. Theoretically, here at campus, there are parties every day of the week. ‘Hungry’ Guys prey on unsuspecting ladies and ‘screw’ them without their consent. Nowadays, almost all campus parties must involve premature-sex; not just booze and dance –that is what a ‘complete house party’ is explained in simple terms. The crafty ways that are being used to drug ladies are well pronounced products that are effective in making damsels drowsy and accept almost everything at their new ‘mood.’ We came across this lady who almost succumbed during her first campus party. She was drugged and roughly deflowered by a guy he met a few days before the party. What she recalls was the way she couldn’t resist the guy in any way during the act. She kept saying that the drug had something to do with how she was so naïve and submissive. In her dreams she says that she keep seeing the face of that guy making her nights uncomfortable.
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