The Watchie -
04-04-2002, 11:35 AM
This article was written by mwanakenya and i give him full props for the article...just wanted to share it with you guys
@mwanakenya....let me know if you have any more new articles ...i enjoyed reading this one
The sound of blasting dynamite in the Kayole quarries next door to my Soweto slum neighborhood woke me up at 5.00 AM as usual. I rubbed my eyes, yawned, stretched, farted and got up. I tiptoed carefully in the dim light over my six daughters sprawled on cardboard boxes on the mud floor. I was like a trainee soldier maneuvering over an obstacle-training course.
I opened the small cardboard window, splashed salty water around my mouth, gurgled and spat on the dirt floor. I felt my bowels begin to constrict. I picked up a plastic bag from the stock we kept handy on the shelf, went to the far corner, spread out the plastic bag on the floor, squatted and did my business. I tried to break wind as softly as possible so as not to wake the family and hoped the stench was not as awful as I thought. I picked up the plastic bag, carefully wrapped it up and tossed it out the door as far as I could.
I picked up a bucket, measured out three cups of water, which was my quota for the day and proceeded to have a bath, careful not to splash water on the sleeping beauties. I jumped into my Askari uniform and pulled my tattered boots on. I took a swig of changaa to ward of the cold and smoked a joint of bhangi to energize me for the long walk to work.
I picked out another plastic bag, put in a slice of janaas remaining ugali, a pinch of salt and two spoonfuls of sukuma wiki for my packed lunch, careful to leave enough for my families lunch and tucked it in my bag. I walked out, shut the door and set off to work.
I had to keep my eyes firmly on the road to avoid the flying toilets that littered the footpath. The alley was narrow, muddy, mucky and smelly. I kept on hopping from one side to the other side like a nimble mountain goat to avoid the obstacles.
I picked up a brisk pace and with long easy strides, I was approaching the short cut at Umoja 1 estate rapidly. I put on my small radio and listened to the morning salaams on KBC National service. I hoped my brother from Kakamega would remember me this time, AFC Leopards had lost again anyway, so maybe he as sulking. The news in brief at 6.00 mentioned that Musalia and Jirongo were at each others necks about who should be Western provinces Jogoo at the Kanu delegates conference.
It begun to drizzle and I cursed out loud. The Indian mdosi would eat my heart again for being muddy and wet, just my luck. I pulled out my large plastic home made trench coat and wrapped it around myself. I tucked my trouser into my socks to keep the hems from the mud.
I walked through Umoja without any incident. I saw Njoki alight from a matatu at Umoja 2 and I waved to her. She was had just arrived from nightly duties in town and as usual when I met her I escorted her from the stage to her house. It was still early and she had previously been mugged twice and raped once by ma-hungry. She told me business was bad, she had not had any Johnnys for two weeks and her rent was due, her landlord was threatening to throw her out. She blamed the loss of business on hii ukimwi hii. She gave me 5 shillings and I rushed on to continue my journey.
When I was passing through Donholm, I approached the corner near the supermarket as silently as I could. I hoped that the one-eyed mongrel that tortured me daily on my route was asleep or ##### hunting on another road. The mongrel loathed me, I had tried to bribe and befriend it with bones that I picked up along my route but it still loathed me. As luck would have it, I had a fierce growl from behind me and I did not bother to dither, I simply took off as first as I could. I was busily pumping my legs as first as I could. But I could feel the mongrel steadily approaching and getting closer. It must old age, I felt terror start to creep in and unfortunately I stumbled, lost my balance and went flying into the mud face first. The mongrel was all over me in a flash and I begun screaming like a Sowetan being mugged for the umpteenth time. In desperation, I tossed my packed sukuma lunch as far as I could and the mongrel went after it, in that split second, I got up and scrambled away.
On approaching the Railway crossing at BuruBuru, I saw a pool of water and proceeded to do some maintenance cleaning to remove some of the mud from my uniform and boots. I just hoped the mdosi would not notice how wet and filthy I was, I should have changed in the watchmans shed as usual, darnn!
I hurried on to work along the railway track amidst alot of huffing and puffing. My chest was not putting up with this very well anymore. I contemplated quitting smoking, pondered about it, laughed at the idea, and sniffed some snuff.
On approaching the City stadium, I glanced at the clock and realized I was running late. I began jogging and sprinting in sporadic spurts.
Finally, I could see the gate of Rajubhai Steel Mills; I was there at last. I walked in, relieved the night Askari of his shift, signed in and settled into the Askaris hut for another day of work. My boss arrived at 8.30 am and I jogged to open the gate before he could hoot twice, he didnt like that.
I swung the gate open and locked it after he drove in. He beckoned me over and instructed me to unload the boot of his Mercedes with a series on incoherent grunts.
Veve jinga! Kwanini vewe apana baa uniform safi? Ha? veve nakwisa vuta pangi?. Mdosi growled.
Hapana Mr. Pattni, nimenyeshewa na mvua. I replied.
Veve tafutva kasi, eh! Veve habana fikiri akuna jinga mingi kama vewe nataka kasi, eh! Kimbia nunua mimi Nation na Standard, Jinga.
Ndio Mkubwa! I replied and dashed to the nearest newspaper vendor as fast as possible.
The day was uneventful; Open gate. Close gate. Bring boss tea. Shrink from the rain in the cold. Get boss tissue paper from kiosk. Close gate. Open gate.
At lunchtime I was feeling severe pangs of hunger. I cursed the mongrel for eating my lunch. I took the 5 bob Njoki had given me and bought some roasted maize.
At 5.30 I started feeling optimistic, it was almost time to walk home. I was in good spirits. I could rush home, send the kids out to play, and spend some quality time with my wife before suppertime. I hoped to get a son, damn, six daughters was too much. That woman from Khwisero was only bearing me daughters, I contemplated getting a second wife from Maragoli, hopefully who would beget me a son.
Makhokaaaaaaa! Veve kuja haba mara moja! my boss shouted.
I scampered across with unease building rapidly. Now what had I done?
Nani nambia veve tumia toilet bepa yangu? eh? Veve jinga! Mimi nakata mshahara yako 50 shilling, veve sikia
eh? Wewe tumia gazette ama matawi ya fence kama veve taka. My boss barked.
I bowed my head and nodded meekly. Damn, that meant I was operating on a budget of 1,250 ksh, minus the advance of 70 ksh I had taken.
At 6.00 PM there was no sign of Simiyu, #####, I hope I did not have to cover for him again and do double shift. I hated the night duty, besides, I had a ka feeling today was the day I could sire a son.
6.13 PM no Simiyu.
6.57 PM no Simiyu.
7.35 PM no Simiyu. Oh man, this was the pits, I was pulling a double shift. Damn!
I was cold, hungry, tired, amorous, sad, disillusioned and dejected. Damn Simiyu.
Sod all. Why am I suffering? Tonight I am going to sleep. I picked up some discarded cartons from the garbage dump and lit a fire. I came across the mdosis uneaten packed lunch in the garbage as I sought more paper for the fire. The gods were with me tonight.
I greedily unwrapped the lunchbox and found some parathas, dhaal and a spicy mix of who knows what. That was the best meal I had mezad since the last such treasure from the garbage bin last week.
10.00 PM. I gazed at the gate with boredom.
11.00 PM. I started dozing off.
11.15 PM. the dogs next door begun barking madly. I ignored them and lay down on the floor next to the fire.
12.23 PM. I drifted of reluctantly into LA-LA land.
I was having a nightmare
or was I?
..I was being chased by a group of ogres. A sharp pain woke me up with a start. I quickly got up and I froze, my heart beating like a Mau Mau war drum. I was surrounded by a large group of menacing looking men armed with simis and machetes. Oh #####! Thieves!
I felt round for my simi on then ground next to me and that resulted in a massive kick from one of the men that spilt my lips and sent two teeth flying out of my mouth. I got on my knees and put my hands in the air. It was raining blows, ngotos and kicks. I begged for mercy. I whimpered. I cried. I yelped like a puppy. More kicks, more slaps. Pain. Blood. Agony.
Wewe mjinga! Nyinyi ndio mna saidia waindi kunyanyasa watu hapa Kenya. One of them who looked like the mongrel that chased me in the morning shouted.
Wapi kifunguo ya store?
Sijui, nisamehe. I begged.
Kicks, slaps, blows.
Kihii giki One of them hissed.
They ordered me to lower my trousers, I did so with trembling fingers, glad that I had been circumcised at River Nzoia many years ago. I was terrified, trembling, shaking like a leaf. I had heard about the corpses circumcised and having dismembered genitals by the attackers in the skirmishes at Kariobangi.
Would they let me go? Would they tie me up and abandon me? Would they kill me? I let my puffed and bruised eyes roll about, looking for a gap to sprint away. My soul was screaming. I said a short prayer in ki-bukusu. Did G speak that? Just incase, I repeated the prayer in Kiswahili.
In the blink of an eye, I got up and dashed away, I sprinted towards the gate as fast as I could. One of the burglars let out a chilling war cry and dashed after me. He tripped me and I hit the ground with a resounding thud. He came up and kicked me hard me on the jaw and I saw a million bright stars like the thunder in Kakamega. The others bore down and surrounded me like vultures and hyenas on a carcass in Amboseli.
Wewe Fisi ! Unajaribu kuenda wapi? Eh? Wewe ni mjinga? Eh!
Slaps. Kicks. Punches. Abuse. I was in pain. Bleeding. Hurting. Moaning. Begging. Praying.
One of the men swung his machete. I watched it approach and tried to shift my head out of the way but I was too weak, too dazed, too resigned. It smashed into my head and there was a dull itch on my skull. I waited for the pain. It did not come.
A very bright light appeared, beautiful and radiant. I was floating towards it. I am in the light. I am floating in the light. The light is endless. I am floating towards
.
***********Do yall remember the Simon Makonde thingi we had in Primary school?. The one about him being born on a Monday and finally dying on a Friday? Well, I remembered that and cooked this one up. That Simon Makonde story used to haunt me as a kid.
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