Shrewd Young Player

It could happen to you at any time. You could be walking down the road, going to the shop to buy some kerosene for your stove, sitting by the roadside waiting for a free ride to work or when you’re busy minding your own business standing in a horrendous queue waiting for your government food ration for the week. You could meet that girl anywhere.

You know the one who your mama warned you about? She could be lurking in the woods waiting to strike and there’s nothing you can do about it. Well there is but who in their right mind would pass such an opportunity? My cousin didn’t.

He has been sitting in my room waiting anxiously for that all important call that would make him an employee of a “prestigious” firm. I say prestigious because all his application letters since he finished college have this term referring to all places he wants to work. The idea has crossed my mind that I should ask him to also drop his CV at my work place however I don’t think he would want to. It is anything but prestigious.

Since no prestigious offers had come his way by last week, I asked him to keep himself busy by spending sometime outdoors. He is running out of savings and since I am neither his father nor his mother and have never been known to grow money, I suggested that his best recourse was to assist us in getting the free food rations being given by the government. We have had on going water and electricity rationing and so a food ration was good and in the offing, we had no qualms about getting it.

Very early the food ration day my cousin went to the chief’s office with a sack ready for his fill. The queue he saw outside the office was unbelievable. It looked like the whole neighborhood had come for their ration. He looked at the long snaking line and wondered if it was worth the effort. Wouldn’t one go home after standing for eternity on the long queue to eat all the food he had been given to recover from the exhaustion?

He paced himself and looked for an angle to jump the queue at least by a hundred people but just as he was about to pick a spot he heard a loud scream from a woman a few meters behind him and then she shouted:

“Wewe! Hakuna kuruka line!”

He turned and saw a middle aged woman carrying a young girl on her back in froth at his attempt. Everyone had turned their attention to him. He cast his eyes out to the chief’s door and saw the chief carrying a big white container popularly known as “Kasuku” busy pouring maize and other cereals in to a green paper bag held by an old woman. He followed the line scrutinizing the faces of the people and realized that up to where he was standing there were a handful of men on the line! The women would definitely kill him if he dared to break the queue. He swallowed the rejoinder he was going to give the shouting woman and with his head firmly tilted, eyes facing the ground walked to the last person on the queue and stood behind her.

He then put his hands akimbo and stared at the different types of sacks the women were carrying. Some were too big others too small while most were torn and in different states of demise. He wondered if this was the life that he had so much looked forward to. Whatever happened to the rising of the masses to fight oppression, all the isms in Marxism, pragmatism, socialism etc, which he had learnt in college? He felt lost. What was he doing here? His thoughts wondered some more but were brought back to reality by a soft soothing voice that said:

“Excuse me; you’ve dropped your sack”

In his reverie he had let go off his sack, perhaps symbolizing his problems? He picked it up and said his thanks.

“Is this your first time here? “The soft voce asked. A few pauses passed and then she repeated.” I was asking if this your first time here?”

“Who?.. Me?”He asked and then quickly answered. “Yes”

There was no one behind him on the line so it had to be him. Of course it was him

“Yes, this is my first time. Is the line always this long?” He asked.

“Last time it was longer than today. They were giving out cooking oil too.” She answered.

She had by now completely turned and was facing him. She was a few inches shorter than him and her face was right in front of him so that he could smell her warm breath on his neck. She was scintillating. The more they spoke the more interesting she became. My cousin spent 5 “short” hours on the queue with her talking about all sorts of things. In the evening after each had taken their potion home, they met for a cup of tea in one of the many neighborhood cafes where love was brewed.

He is smitten. I have heard much about this girl for days on end. He has found a reason to like The Estate. I have been told by reliable sources that when I’m not at home during the day, my cousin brings a certain girl to my room. The neighbors are looking at me funny. Baba Boi sent word that I needed to see him urgently or else I would come to regret it.
I asked the watchman about this on goings in my room but he told to me to see Baba Boi.

I finally managed to meet Baba Boi today in the morning and he has given me the news.
The woman my cousin has fallen in love with is a girl. She is a form two student in a secondary school nearby. My cousin does not have a clue who he is dealing with. This girl must be shrewd. I’m lost for words.