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THE UNPRECEDENTED ISLAND 2 – THE WEIRD LAND

THE NEW START : THE WEIRD LAND
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Click here if you didn’t read Part One
Desmond Island
0800hrs
‘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

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BRUNT: THE PIMP’in VOYAGE 2

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For Part One Part one : BRUNT THE PIMP’IN VOYAGE

[VOI TOWN – 0900HRS]
‘Pop!’ pop! Pop!’ the high pitched sounds of opening the booze bottles was all that lit up their space as they waited eagerly for the drink to be spilled in their glasses. The bar half-dressed waitress was some kind a tourist attraction to them. Issa was the only one who pretended to be fixed at the glass though he sipped looks at his own opportune time. Juma, Logan and Omondi were all alert to the different human who was seductively putting the drinks on their tab. The lady was dressed on a black above-knee dress, a tight, white above-navel top and those netted leggings that ran from her feet to the top. She made sure she displayed that look and moves that could not be resisted by any man who came to drink at the club.

‘Let me know if you need something else’ she said softly as she smiled at them.

‘Right away. Will let you know. We haven’t got enough of this place’ Juma responded as he removed his tongue out to express his unrelieved daring guts.

‘Call me Anna.’ She said as she waved her hand on them. She did a 360-degree turn making her short dress embrace her waist-length for a while as she walked disappearing in the crowd.

The club was still half-empty. The new day had displaced the customers and the commercial workers too. It usually flocked at night with people from every corner of Kenya and faraway countries too. It was normal to see a few European and American women and men inside the clubs enjoying both the free and costly lives of Kenyan land.

[VOI TOWN – 1100HRS]

He took one deep sip and kept the glass on the table. He released the glass, got hold of the smoking cigar on the ashtray, and inserted it between his thick lips. He inhaled deeply and puffed the air from his mouth. He seemed to be in deep thought. He remembered his family once again and thought about his kids who did not even get to see him. All he was happy about is the fact that the money he earned was enough to take them to school and take care of them at home.

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the ‘RICH MAID’ ABROAD

Story By: {Ken & Speranza}

Many have gone but few make it back successful…
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Welcome to the extra-regurgitated story that falls on deaf ears of many who have the insatiable taste for unseen rewards in abroad. These ‘Thomases’ only believe when they go there and are deported back with ‘painful scars that sometimes never heal’.

Wait, the heading itself is ironical and full of sarcasm if stated. That is what those planning on taking a flight there after paying a hefty fee for their death should come into terms with. They are lured by promises of posh jobs with big salaries.

a RHAPSODY OF BEHAVIORAL CHANGE

How many women have come back and explained exclusively the horrors and atrocities that they met there? How many have been flown back to our country as rotting corpses? How many go there and they disappear under mysterious circumstances? Why do we still want to go there to look for jobs? Meager jobs that lead to many of our young girls and women being overused in useless ‘maid’ jobs under very excruciating conditions. When asked, they say that some of the ladies they know have made it there and are getting paid ‘good money’. Some get good employers while some; in fact get employers who are equivalent to or rougher than ‘beasts’.

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