The season of giving is here again and I’m grateful for all I have received so far. Many thanks to the landlord for his gifts of 2 vests, one pair of trouser and 3 pairs of socks. The pair of trousers did not fit but I got enough money from it when I sold it to buy a loaf of sliced brown bread which was a real bargain I think. Oh plus one of the pair of socks was torn but it’s still useful when I put it on with either of the nicer pairs.
I’m grateful to the landlord for not kicking me out this time around as the watchman was thinking of charging me a fee every end month for spending time with him at his post after being locked out for rent arrears. I’m happy I don’t have to share my blood with the watchman’s fleas as well. I’m sure the landlord is looking out for us by not fumigating the watchman’s “box” to ensure he stays awake all night long and earns his keep. It does help that he now looks rougher with leopard like spots from all the scratching he’s been up to. I understand even the stray dogs stay away from his bonfire at night because his fleas have fleas with a caste system and they don’t want to infect themselves.
We his tenants never tire in informing the landlord that a gate without a surrounding perimeter fence looks ridiculous. However, we’re exhilarated that he has over time allowed us to dump rubbish in one corner and I’m sure by looking at the progress on the other corner where we’re now doing the dumping we’ll be getting our perimeter fence after all. Any thief worth his salt would be crazy to pass through the filth to get to our rooms. The smell doesn’t help but hey better half a fence than nothing.
I’m grateful to the butcher for cutting me a piece of meat once in a while in weight measures even I don’t understand for it is only at our place where they cut you a piece for what you have. I don’t mind at all when he calls me “Mambao” because I’m always saying “nikatie nyama ya mbao” without a hint of shame and no I don’t pretend it’s for poisoning the rats in my house like some customers .They lie. I would also like to take this opportunity to wish him a quick recovery after he cut his thumb while cutting a customer a five shillings piece- I think that was going way below even his own miniscule standards-that, Mr. Butcher man ,was pure greed. Of course I will never tell him to his face not while he still owns that big machete.
To my former next door neighbor I say peace be with you and yes I did get my money back. Thanks for the many lessons on the art of getting money. I particularly liked the one about asking someone out of the blues if they had money on their phone, aka MPESA, to send to you because it was “urgent” and that you would pay them back by 2pm the same day. The amount would not normally exceed 200 shillings and many a gullible victims myself included fell for it, some a couple of times. I never really understood why you chose 2pm as the refund time. I will try it out next year once things cool down a bit.
The policemen who came to ransack your place are still “patrolling the neighborhood” and are leaving no stones- read pockets- unturned/untouched. You really did have a lot of stuff but don’t worry the landlord made sure it was shared equitably- the policemen on patrol got the hi-fi radio that they reported as being stolen and took it for evidence keeping. I’m sure the one who carried your TV took it to the evidence room as well .I’m a good citizen so I helped him to get the antennae off the roof whilst he smiled for reasons best known to him. The landlord took your bed and your seats. Apparently you had rent arrears going way back and those items helped him recoup his losses. He left the mattress though, I don’t think it’s the ugly stain spots here and there particularly at the middle that made him leave it. Baba Boi your former neighbor to the right did not waste the opportunity. Bad rumours are going on that he upgraded on to your mattress and handed his paper thin mattress to be shared by his many kids. Allegedly, his kids are so excited that they sleep width-wise on it on the floor so that all 6 of them have a fair share of the mattress. It’s said that you can see the sparkle in Boi’s eyes in the morning when he carries it out and throws it on to the roof to dry.
I know some people thought I was foolish for only getting myself 2 vests, a pair of trouser, and 3 pairs of socks but what really happened to that busy body who joined the police and got himself your shirts? Wasn’t he the one who was beaten by an irate resident of The Estate for allegedly stealing his shirt? I sold the pair of trouser and wear my vests inside and my socks are in my shoes. All those nights you came back with bruises on your face and that bad cut you had on your head last year could not have been from scrambling to get in to a shopping mall to buy stuff, could it?
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Some Sugar, Please!
There’s a new guy at The Estate. This new guy is bad news for all of us. He just moved in to the other side of our estate but everyone knows him, has heard of him or is about to. In case you have forgotten I told you the other day that there’s the real estate behind our ‘estate’. Well ours is really the one behind but that depends on your location and is neither there nor here or vice versa.
This guy lives in that estate. I have had the misfortune of meeting him at the shop while he was buying a smoke and five hundred shillings worth of mobile airtime recharge voucher on his way to the real estate. The shopkeeper was all over him and barely noticed me when I asked her for a quarter of the quarter kilogram of sugar.
“Keep passing by here…. not many people promote me like you do” I heard her say in a fake American accent I never knew she had. She then turned to me and said,
“Wewe! Shika, na ujue hii ni ya mwisho sitashinda nikiandika hapa madeni saa zote!”, as she handed me my sugar.
The guy took his eyes off her and ran them over me from head to toe as a looked down in shame. To say the least, my shirt, buttoned to the top, with its worn out collar- the one I prided myself for being “iron-proof” was no match for his half unbuttoned, hard-collar “very-ironed” shirt. I wondered if he had seen that I had put on two pairs of socks as the second hand pair I had rarely fit me and so I had to reinforce it with another pair on the inside lest I find them shriveled at ankle length. He then gave me a wry smile-the sort that says “I know what you’re up to but I just beat you to it so what are you gonna do about it?”
“Aii Vero, mbona hivyo leo? Si unajua ni hali ya maisha tu” I said trying to divert his attention back to her.
“Maisha kitu gani? Wewe nawe umezidi”she retorted.
“Lakini si...” I began defending myself, but she cut me short.
“Chukua uende!” She blurted, and then spoke softly to the guy, “You’ve saved my number? It’s 07…”
I retreated and left him sharing his airtime with her. What bad luck, what misfortune- all those debts I had acquired at the shop were my leverage for getting to know her, at least that’s what I thought on my side. How dare she discard me like that, I thy faithful customer in deep-bad-debt?
I felt like throwing a stone and smashing the tinted windscreen of his branded 4x4 vehicle parked beside the shop. Apparently he works for one of the mobile network providers in the country currently running a huge promotion. Come to think of it, could that be why he bought that much airtime from the shop? Was he in fact promoting himself?
I’m bidding my time. Promotions come and go and so will he.
This guy lives in that estate. I have had the misfortune of meeting him at the shop while he was buying a smoke and five hundred shillings worth of mobile airtime recharge voucher on his way to the real estate. The shopkeeper was all over him and barely noticed me when I asked her for a quarter of the quarter kilogram of sugar.
“Keep passing by here…. not many people promote me like you do” I heard her say in a fake American accent I never knew she had. She then turned to me and said,
“Wewe! Shika, na ujue hii ni ya mwisho sitashinda nikiandika hapa madeni saa zote!”, as she handed me my sugar.
The guy took his eyes off her and ran them over me from head to toe as a looked down in shame. To say the least, my shirt, buttoned to the top, with its worn out collar- the one I prided myself for being “iron-proof” was no match for his half unbuttoned, hard-collar “very-ironed” shirt. I wondered if he had seen that I had put on two pairs of socks as the second hand pair I had rarely fit me and so I had to reinforce it with another pair on the inside lest I find them shriveled at ankle length. He then gave me a wry smile-the sort that says “I know what you’re up to but I just beat you to it so what are you gonna do about it?”
“Aii Vero, mbona hivyo leo? Si unajua ni hali ya maisha tu” I said trying to divert his attention back to her.
“Maisha kitu gani? Wewe nawe umezidi”she retorted.
“Lakini si...” I began defending myself, but she cut me short.
“Chukua uende!” She blurted, and then spoke softly to the guy, “You’ve saved my number? It’s 07…”
I retreated and left him sharing his airtime with her. What bad luck, what misfortune- all those debts I had acquired at the shop were my leverage for getting to know her, at least that’s what I thought on my side. How dare she discard me like that, I thy faithful customer in deep-bad-debt?
I felt like throwing a stone and smashing the tinted windscreen of his branded 4x4 vehicle parked beside the shop. Apparently he works for one of the mobile network providers in the country currently running a huge promotion. Come to think of it, could that be why he bought that much airtime from the shop? Was he in fact promoting himself?
I’m bidding my time. Promotions come and go and so will he.
LEG VALUE
I don’t know how they did it but a month ago we watched a film at work during working hours. Not everyone was invited but most of us tried to get in to watch it.
We got the information not through an internal memo or mail as the Staff did, but through the normal channels aka rumours. Word went round that the Ministry of Labour had organized a motivational film for the workers and that all of us were invited but those who wished to work could continue with their routine. Most of the workers wished to keep their jobs and therefore declined with lots of regrets at missing such an opportunity. The Staff attended en mass.
Being a worker but closer to the Staff, I attended and even got a front row seat by virtue of being asked to carry chairs for the guests and the Staff. I had other work to do but decided to stay just to make sure they were comfortable and got myself a chair in the process, nothing extraordinary about that.
I, unfortunately, did not make it through the entirety of the movie as one of the Staff who had an earlier engagement came in and stood next to me just as the trailers were ending. It was then that I decided that a job in hand is worth more than a seat and decided purely out of courtesy to give him my seat even though I got no thanks for it. Murmurs followed on my standing and it was only natural that I went to the back as I was not transparent, with the staff eyes following my every move and when I got to the back I again decided to find out if there was anyone left outside and as a result left the room albeit on my own terms.
Of course when I met my fellow workers over our boiled maize lunch the next day, I did not forget to mention my film experience much to their dismay and amazement. Someone even bought me an extra cob of boiled maize as a celebratory gesture for my success for getting that close to the Staff. However, I was nearly overshadowed by a guy who had bought a TV and watched a show called “Killmore kals”. He also had friend who could not understand how he’d seen someone die in a Nigerian film in a morning TV film and be alive in an evening TV film. No matter how it was explained to him he stuck to his guns and in acrimony concluded that it must have been the Nigerian juju at work.
Thankfully, he was sidelined by the new topic that was started on “leg value” in the movies. After a great length of many lurid descriptions of the Nigerian women in the films, it was unanimously agreed that most watched it for the leg show.
On getting back to work after a fulfilling lunch, we met the Staff going for another meeting this time with the Big Boss, his receptionist and his Human resource manager. A couple of guards were also in tow. One of the workers said he wished he could attend one of the many meetings the Staff normally had especially in the hot sunny lazy afternoons. He’d give an arm and a leg to go and sleep in the meetings as well.
Most of the Staff had already trooped in one by one when I was kindly requested to help in setting the chairs again. Unlike the first time there was neither a movie nor the Ministry of Labour people or as we called them Suits. It always looked like they were more interested in their suits than in our welfare what with the way they kept brushing away invisible fluff off their suits punctuated by incoherent murmurs urging the respondent to state his case. The worker would then get summarily dismissed in the days to follow.
One by one the Staff were called in to the Big Boss’s office by the all-smiles- receptionist. A few minutes later some came out all smiles while others were escorted, carried or dragged to the gate by the guards and locked out. Apparently some of the Staff were being “let go” and the previous days movie was a motivational movie- to create a softer landing for those “let go” and the Suits had come to be greased in anticipation of any future problems. Now that was a movie with different kind of” leg value”-one leading to “tarmacking.”
We got the information not through an internal memo or mail as the Staff did, but through the normal channels aka rumours. Word went round that the Ministry of Labour had organized a motivational film for the workers and that all of us were invited but those who wished to work could continue with their routine. Most of the workers wished to keep their jobs and therefore declined with lots of regrets at missing such an opportunity. The Staff attended en mass.
Being a worker but closer to the Staff, I attended and even got a front row seat by virtue of being asked to carry chairs for the guests and the Staff. I had other work to do but decided to stay just to make sure they were comfortable and got myself a chair in the process, nothing extraordinary about that.
I, unfortunately, did not make it through the entirety of the movie as one of the Staff who had an earlier engagement came in and stood next to me just as the trailers were ending. It was then that I decided that a job in hand is worth more than a seat and decided purely out of courtesy to give him my seat even though I got no thanks for it. Murmurs followed on my standing and it was only natural that I went to the back as I was not transparent, with the staff eyes following my every move and when I got to the back I again decided to find out if there was anyone left outside and as a result left the room albeit on my own terms.
Of course when I met my fellow workers over our boiled maize lunch the next day, I did not forget to mention my film experience much to their dismay and amazement. Someone even bought me an extra cob of boiled maize as a celebratory gesture for my success for getting that close to the Staff. However, I was nearly overshadowed by a guy who had bought a TV and watched a show called “Killmore kals”. He also had friend who could not understand how he’d seen someone die in a Nigerian film in a morning TV film and be alive in an evening TV film. No matter how it was explained to him he stuck to his guns and in acrimony concluded that it must have been the Nigerian juju at work.
Thankfully, he was sidelined by the new topic that was started on “leg value” in the movies. After a great length of many lurid descriptions of the Nigerian women in the films, it was unanimously agreed that most watched it for the leg show.
On getting back to work after a fulfilling lunch, we met the Staff going for another meeting this time with the Big Boss, his receptionist and his Human resource manager. A couple of guards were also in tow. One of the workers said he wished he could attend one of the many meetings the Staff normally had especially in the hot sunny lazy afternoons. He’d give an arm and a leg to go and sleep in the meetings as well.
Most of the Staff had already trooped in one by one when I was kindly requested to help in setting the chairs again. Unlike the first time there was neither a movie nor the Ministry of Labour people or as we called them Suits. It always looked like they were more interested in their suits than in our welfare what with the way they kept brushing away invisible fluff off their suits punctuated by incoherent murmurs urging the respondent to state his case. The worker would then get summarily dismissed in the days to follow.
One by one the Staff were called in to the Big Boss’s office by the all-smiles- receptionist. A few minutes later some came out all smiles while others were escorted, carried or dragged to the gate by the guards and locked out. Apparently some of the Staff were being “let go” and the previous days movie was a motivational movie- to create a softer landing for those “let go” and the Suits had come to be greased in anticipation of any future problems. Now that was a movie with different kind of” leg value”-one leading to “tarmacking.”
Bar Soap For Lotion.
I have been rather busy this last couple of months. What with the African Nations cup and the FIFA World Cup to deal with. I have been fully involved in their preparations to ensure their smooth running. I preferred the FIFA World Cup more because it had more set ups and re-evaluations to do plus the clientele were very diverse some great others miserly. Things have been good.
I knew things were turning for me when I bought my first ‘hand and body’ lotion without asking the cute attendee at the supermarket promoting it if biology had changed and hands were no longer part of the body. So it’s true I’m no longer using bar soap for lotion, I have moved on. I think I’ve even become spiritual and begin my days with the inkling that ‘every day is a blessing’ before my cold shower and lotion- hand and body lotion- application. I am as they say ‘fairer’ than before. Things could not get any better.
On the other hand- note; there was no ‘on one hand’- my boss has been up in my face cursing me for my constant lateness, sickness and absenteeism as I abscond from work to prepare for the FIFA World Cup. In my success I have seen people do weird things like go to church. Now hold your horses it’s their reason for going to church that has astounded me. I was preparing one family for the FIFA World Cup and when I was done the wife said that she would be the first one to go to church that weekend. The husband obliged and so on that Sunday the Husband was laid back at home waiting for 9am to turn on his TV and try and catch his wife live on TV in a live Sunday sermon broadcast by one local channel. Come the next Sunday he would get his chance.
My preparations have taken to places you’ll never go to. Have you been to your MP’s residence? Not his home but his official residence? You have? Not on a begging mission but because he needed a favor from you? I didn’t think so. Well just to rub it in, I have. And it’s not once or twice but several times. An illegitimate daughter of his has also been pinpointed to me. I also got her phone number so I have been sending her ‘please call me’ text messages and beeping her every now and then. I’m still waiting for her reply as I’m a patient man. The workers at his home have a nickname for her too. I’m not to be quoted but just so you’re in the know they call her “out-grower” – born out of wedlock, came with father to his first marriage. What? You know who an out-grower is? I ask -Are you speaking from experience?
I have also in my forays been to immaculate, gigantic houses where the watchman has his own toilet and bathroom and really good skin. His secret being not only lots of soap and clean water but also a rough polythene sack that he uses to scrub himself thoroughly for the appeasement of his boss’s madam. I had a difficult encounter with him on our first meet. He had left the gate wide open in his haste to keep himself clean when I got to it. There were other people waiting at the gate so I stayed put waiting for him to be done. When he was through he came to address us and began with me but I did not know it. He hurled insults at the guy next to me for not paying attention to him and it was only when he pointed at me that I realized it was me he had been insulting all along. How did he expect me to know that he was cross-eyed?
In the house there was also a cook who fed me like the dogs, literally. I can safely say that those who are always shouting about our country going to the dogs have not met the dogs I ate with. I even sampled some of their crunchy biscuits. The cook has gone to school and has an acquired accent with a refrain to boot. All his sentences would begin or end with the same phrase whatever the case.
“By the way, the food is ready madam.”
“I was feeding the dogs by the way, when the food was cooking madam.”
“By the way madam, do you want me to serve with the white plates or the clear ones today?”
“I think, by the way, that it will rain today.”
“I’m the chief cook here by the way.” Never mind that he was the only cook there!
“By the way, where do you come from?”
To which I nearly answered “I’m definitely not from by the way!” at the risk of missing out on the food he was about to serve.
I have also been to the near-do-wells and have assisted them with FIFA World Cup preparations as well. Most of them have huge masts that I had to lift on my own on to their roofs and fix so that they could get a clearer reception of the free-to-air TV stations. My work is so good that I have started rumours that once I fix your antennae depending on your payment you might receive cable TV. Of course I’ve been modest enough when asked to confirm or deny them. I told you what I have been doing right? Fixing TV aerials for a fee.
Unfortunately it’s all coming to an end tonight. The FIFA World Cup ends tonight and I’ll be out of work. Soon, I’ll be back to bar soap for lotion- for both “hands and body”.
.
I knew things were turning for me when I bought my first ‘hand and body’ lotion without asking the cute attendee at the supermarket promoting it if biology had changed and hands were no longer part of the body. So it’s true I’m no longer using bar soap for lotion, I have moved on. I think I’ve even become spiritual and begin my days with the inkling that ‘every day is a blessing’ before my cold shower and lotion- hand and body lotion- application. I am as they say ‘fairer’ than before. Things could not get any better.
On the other hand- note; there was no ‘on one hand’- my boss has been up in my face cursing me for my constant lateness, sickness and absenteeism as I abscond from work to prepare for the FIFA World Cup. In my success I have seen people do weird things like go to church. Now hold your horses it’s their reason for going to church that has astounded me. I was preparing one family for the FIFA World Cup and when I was done the wife said that she would be the first one to go to church that weekend. The husband obliged and so on that Sunday the Husband was laid back at home waiting for 9am to turn on his TV and try and catch his wife live on TV in a live Sunday sermon broadcast by one local channel. Come the next Sunday he would get his chance.
My preparations have taken to places you’ll never go to. Have you been to your MP’s residence? Not his home but his official residence? You have? Not on a begging mission but because he needed a favor from you? I didn’t think so. Well just to rub it in, I have. And it’s not once or twice but several times. An illegitimate daughter of his has also been pinpointed to me. I also got her phone number so I have been sending her ‘please call me’ text messages and beeping her every now and then. I’m still waiting for her reply as I’m a patient man. The workers at his home have a nickname for her too. I’m not to be quoted but just so you’re in the know they call her “out-grower” – born out of wedlock, came with father to his first marriage. What? You know who an out-grower is? I ask -Are you speaking from experience?
I have also in my forays been to immaculate, gigantic houses where the watchman has his own toilet and bathroom and really good skin. His secret being not only lots of soap and clean water but also a rough polythene sack that he uses to scrub himself thoroughly for the appeasement of his boss’s madam. I had a difficult encounter with him on our first meet. He had left the gate wide open in his haste to keep himself clean when I got to it. There were other people waiting at the gate so I stayed put waiting for him to be done. When he was through he came to address us and began with me but I did not know it. He hurled insults at the guy next to me for not paying attention to him and it was only when he pointed at me that I realized it was me he had been insulting all along. How did he expect me to know that he was cross-eyed?
In the house there was also a cook who fed me like the dogs, literally. I can safely say that those who are always shouting about our country going to the dogs have not met the dogs I ate with. I even sampled some of their crunchy biscuits. The cook has gone to school and has an acquired accent with a refrain to boot. All his sentences would begin or end with the same phrase whatever the case.
“By the way, the food is ready madam.”
“I was feeding the dogs by the way, when the food was cooking madam.”
“By the way madam, do you want me to serve with the white plates or the clear ones today?”
“I think, by the way, that it will rain today.”
“I’m the chief cook here by the way.” Never mind that he was the only cook there!
“By the way, where do you come from?”
To which I nearly answered “I’m definitely not from by the way!” at the risk of missing out on the food he was about to serve.
I have also been to the near-do-wells and have assisted them with FIFA World Cup preparations as well. Most of them have huge masts that I had to lift on my own on to their roofs and fix so that they could get a clearer reception of the free-to-air TV stations. My work is so good that I have started rumours that once I fix your antennae depending on your payment you might receive cable TV. Of course I’ve been modest enough when asked to confirm or deny them. I told you what I have been doing right? Fixing TV aerials for a fee.
Unfortunately it’s all coming to an end tonight. The FIFA World Cup ends tonight and I’ll be out of work. Soon, I’ll be back to bar soap for lotion- for both “hands and body”.
.
Trial and Error
Excuse me, does this trouser make my bum look big?
What?
My bum. It does, doesn’t it?
I don’t know!
See those guys over there?
Yeah.
They said I could not make you smile.
They did?
Yeah and now they’re waiting for you to wave at them.
So you want me to wave at them?
No. You don’t have to I will.
Why aren’t they waving back?
They’re probably wondering who I am. I don’t know them.
I thought you said…
Forget about them. They’re not important. I’m more interested in you.
Wa, ok.
I was just seated over there when you walked in and thought to myself.
Yes.
I thought I needed to check if they were real.
If what was real?
Those two.
WHAT!
Those beautiful earrings you got on.
Oh!
They go well with your dress.
Thanks, I guess.
I’m Edward.
Joy.
You must think I’m weird.
Yes you are definitely weird.
Thanks.
Thanks?
For the compliment. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me so far Joy.
Do you go asking people about your bum?
No. You?
NO!
I just thought the line “have we met before?” is so over used.
So that was your line?
Kind off.
So now what next?
Well I’m sort of lost right now.
Lost?
Yeah. I did not think I’d get this far. Not with someone like you.
What do you mean by that: “someone like you?”
Someone as pretty as you.
Is that another one of your lines?
Yeah. Told you I was lost. Any hints?
This is the part you’re supposed to ask me what I’m doing here.
What are you doing here?
Waiting for someone.
Who?
What about you? What are you doing here?
Checking you out.
Yeah?
Yeah.
So what do you think?
I think whoever you’re waiting for better come quick.
Why?
Cos I’m trying to make a coup de tat here. All I need’s a phone number.
And why on earth would I give it to you?
Cos every pretty girl needs one and I’m willing to be one.
Be what?
Your stalker.
You said your name is? Edward?
Yes, Edward.
Edward you’re starting to freak me out.
Is that a good thing?
No.
So, I’m not getting it am I?
Nope.
So who are you waiting for anyway?
My boyfriend.
Oh …ok. Is he a big guy?
Yeah and he’s going to bash your head in if you don’t leave now.
Ok. At least I tried. Cant’ blame a guy for trying.
Can’t.
I can live with that. Tell you what, here’s my number.
What for?
Just in case.
In case of what?
In case you need a stalker.
Ok.
I think I should have stopped when you said I was weird.
Are you leaving or should I?
No need to I’m leaving.
Go.
Ok.
What?
My bum. It does, doesn’t it?
I don’t know!
See those guys over there?
Yeah.
They said I could not make you smile.
They did?
Yeah and now they’re waiting for you to wave at them.
So you want me to wave at them?
No. You don’t have to I will.
Why aren’t they waving back?
They’re probably wondering who I am. I don’t know them.
I thought you said…
Forget about them. They’re not important. I’m more interested in you.
Wa, ok.
I was just seated over there when you walked in and thought to myself.
Yes.
I thought I needed to check if they were real.
If what was real?
Those two.
WHAT!
Those beautiful earrings you got on.
Oh!
They go well with your dress.
Thanks, I guess.
I’m Edward.
Joy.
You must think I’m weird.
Yes you are definitely weird.
Thanks.
Thanks?
For the compliment. That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me so far Joy.
Do you go asking people about your bum?
No. You?
NO!
I just thought the line “have we met before?” is so over used.
So that was your line?
Kind off.
So now what next?
Well I’m sort of lost right now.
Lost?
Yeah. I did not think I’d get this far. Not with someone like you.
What do you mean by that: “someone like you?”
Someone as pretty as you.
Is that another one of your lines?
Yeah. Told you I was lost. Any hints?
This is the part you’re supposed to ask me what I’m doing here.
What are you doing here?
Waiting for someone.
Who?
What about you? What are you doing here?
Checking you out.
Yeah?
Yeah.
So what do you think?
I think whoever you’re waiting for better come quick.
Why?
Cos I’m trying to make a coup de tat here. All I need’s a phone number.
And why on earth would I give it to you?
Cos every pretty girl needs one and I’m willing to be one.
Be what?
Your stalker.
You said your name is? Edward?
Yes, Edward.
Edward you’re starting to freak me out.
Is that a good thing?
No.
So, I’m not getting it am I?
Nope.
So who are you waiting for anyway?
My boyfriend.
Oh …ok. Is he a big guy?
Yeah and he’s going to bash your head in if you don’t leave now.
Ok. At least I tried. Cant’ blame a guy for trying.
Can’t.
I can live with that. Tell you what, here’s my number.
What for?
Just in case.
In case of what?
In case you need a stalker.
Ok.
I think I should have stopped when you said I was weird.
Are you leaving or should I?
No need to I’m leaving.
Go.
Ok.
Getting Bossy
My boss and I have a lot in common. I realized all this while seated in the back left on my way from work in the evening traffic jam yesterday. Guess who else seats on the back left? Granted my back left is in a public service vehicle but the similarity continues- we’re both stuck in the same traffic for hours on end staring out the window. He has a snack in his wait and so do I – I have some roast ground nuts bought from the hawkers just outside the vehicle while he has some nuts as well in his chocolate candy bar.
Like my boss I also like new clothes. In fact all of us at work have new clothes thanks to him and the annual stock taking held at the end of last year. All employees got a pair of trousers while the ladies got a skirt . Everyone would like to think of it as our Christmas or new gift but we know it’s not. Our boss was just getting rid of dead stock and what better way than to invest it in his workers. He used some of the none moving cloth material to make us new uniforms. The color does not do us much justice but we are not complaining at least not in his earshot. The color grey is unofficially for school uniforms here in Kenya right? So why do we look like we’re going to school every morning? School of work?
Other complains are on the quality of the material- it shrinks. The picture you see early in the morning as we queue to get in at the gate before the security search is both gruesome and lovely. Gruesome because all the men seem to have a one size fits all pair of trousers. All the trousers are at ankle length, what we call “can’t reach down.”The lovely part is on the other side of the line- the women’s line. Our trousers shrunk right? What do you think happened to their skirts?
When it comes to readership my boss and I are also in the same league. A slight difference though is that he is more interested in the present whereas I’m inclined to the past . We read the same magazines and newspapers, I , just an year later when he’s dumping them in his end of year office clearance. Those magazines do have a good read whatever the year and the newspapers come in handy at least once or twice a day when I visit the small private room outside my room. Tip- a little water makes them user friendly.
It therefore comes as no surprise to you then that recently when a female colleague sent me a short message informing me that she would be coming to my room in the evening I got my best china out. I filled the wine bottles I had gotten from my boss with boiled water to serve my guest. This was no ordinary guest- she is the boss’s receptionist. Thanks to her the word “receptionist” has had many new meanings added to it at work. It is not every day that she gives “house calls” to “workers” hence my anticipation for her arrival and behest to be a good “receptionist” in the spirit of receiving. I also asked Jose to lend me his two-battery operated radio to play some cool music that would set the mood. I was tempted to also ask for Jose’s low wattage bulb that he had for those special occasions but thought better of it for I wanted to see exactly how I would be received.
I was all set by the time I had the knock on the door, the ambience in my room very welcoming. I had spent a good two hours sprucing up the room. My pounding on Jose’s radio batteries had stabilized them. They were struggling to power the radio inefficiently but somewhat effectively. I prayed they would not go dead on me in my hour of need. I opened the door and was met by her warm receptive smile. I smiled back invitingly and asked her to get in.
“Karibu”
“Thanks” she replied, her face still in a smile as she got in. It was definitely something else the boss and I had in common- an appreciation for beauty.
“Have a bed…. I mean a seat on the bed” I mumbled awkwardly, “something to drink?” I continued.
“No, thanks.” She answered as her eyes toured my room. She was finished in ten seconds.
I moved to close the door.
“Don’t close it” she said.
“Okay” I said and walked to the bed and sat by her side. I wished I had gotten Jose’s low wattage bulb the lighting was too bright. I stretched my arm going for her phone to “break the ice”. She stood up.
“I’d like your help on something” She said.
“Yes?” I prodded as I controlled the urge to add “I’m at your service.”
“I was wondering if you could house my brother for the night”
“Your brother?”
“Yeah, he’s outside finishing a cigarette. He came over unannounced from my parents to visit and I have some plans for the night. I hope you don’t mind”
“I….my mind…. I thought …no, I don’t mind. It’s ok. I don’t mind. Anything for you.” I answered in calm realization of her intentions.
“Let me get him. Thanks a million. I owe you one. I’ll pay you back someday for sure” she exclaimed her smile now back on full swing as she went to out.
She owes me and I intend to collect and yes that’s another thing I have in common with my boss-I also got her to bed too you know.
Like my boss I also like new clothes. In fact all of us at work have new clothes thanks to him and the annual stock taking held at the end of last year. All employees got a pair of trousers while the ladies got a skirt . Everyone would like to think of it as our Christmas or new gift but we know it’s not. Our boss was just getting rid of dead stock and what better way than to invest it in his workers. He used some of the none moving cloth material to make us new uniforms. The color does not do us much justice but we are not complaining at least not in his earshot. The color grey is unofficially for school uniforms here in Kenya right? So why do we look like we’re going to school every morning? School of work?
Other complains are on the quality of the material- it shrinks. The picture you see early in the morning as we queue to get in at the gate before the security search is both gruesome and lovely. Gruesome because all the men seem to have a one size fits all pair of trousers. All the trousers are at ankle length, what we call “can’t reach down.”The lovely part is on the other side of the line- the women’s line. Our trousers shrunk right? What do you think happened to their skirts?
When it comes to readership my boss and I are also in the same league. A slight difference though is that he is more interested in the present whereas I’m inclined to the past . We read the same magazines and newspapers, I , just an year later when he’s dumping them in his end of year office clearance. Those magazines do have a good read whatever the year and the newspapers come in handy at least once or twice a day when I visit the small private room outside my room. Tip- a little water makes them user friendly.
It therefore comes as no surprise to you then that recently when a female colleague sent me a short message informing me that she would be coming to my room in the evening I got my best china out. I filled the wine bottles I had gotten from my boss with boiled water to serve my guest. This was no ordinary guest- she is the boss’s receptionist. Thanks to her the word “receptionist” has had many new meanings added to it at work. It is not every day that she gives “house calls” to “workers” hence my anticipation for her arrival and behest to be a good “receptionist” in the spirit of receiving. I also asked Jose to lend me his two-battery operated radio to play some cool music that would set the mood. I was tempted to also ask for Jose’s low wattage bulb that he had for those special occasions but thought better of it for I wanted to see exactly how I would be received.
I was all set by the time I had the knock on the door, the ambience in my room very welcoming. I had spent a good two hours sprucing up the room. My pounding on Jose’s radio batteries had stabilized them. They were struggling to power the radio inefficiently but somewhat effectively. I prayed they would not go dead on me in my hour of need. I opened the door and was met by her warm receptive smile. I smiled back invitingly and asked her to get in.
“Karibu”
“Thanks” she replied, her face still in a smile as she got in. It was definitely something else the boss and I had in common- an appreciation for beauty.
“Have a bed…. I mean a seat on the bed” I mumbled awkwardly, “something to drink?” I continued.
“No, thanks.” She answered as her eyes toured my room. She was finished in ten seconds.
I moved to close the door.
“Don’t close it” she said.
“Okay” I said and walked to the bed and sat by her side. I wished I had gotten Jose’s low wattage bulb the lighting was too bright. I stretched my arm going for her phone to “break the ice”. She stood up.
“I’d like your help on something” She said.
“Yes?” I prodded as I controlled the urge to add “I’m at your service.”
“I was wondering if you could house my brother for the night”
“Your brother?”
“Yeah, he’s outside finishing a cigarette. He came over unannounced from my parents to visit and I have some plans for the night. I hope you don’t mind”
“I….my mind…. I thought …no, I don’t mind. It’s ok. I don’t mind. Anything for you.” I answered in calm realization of her intentions.
“Let me get him. Thanks a million. I owe you one. I’ll pay you back someday for sure” she exclaimed her smile now back on full swing as she went to out.
She owes me and I intend to collect and yes that’s another thing I have in common with my boss-I also got her to bed too you know.
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