Cheap Chat

Our meeting point in the evening is a den that parents disapprove of,a falling shed cum hotel where we sip cheap coffee, sell rumours,tell our dreams and bet. The owner, makes a staggering profit of KSh. 300 a day. Mutwe is his name perhaps his naming squad noted his massive space between the ears and named accordingly, who follows the naming processes nowadays? Our talks are random and very small too. The most important thing is to keep the chat lively to suspend the memories of aching backs. You see, in a season like this, lifting cabbages is our goldmine for coins. Our muscles aren't left behind,like we put it around here, like the cock knees (who thinks like that?). We don't mourn, we tease and have fun.

We love fun,we have it.PHOTO/COURTESY

We, the guards of the Muchene village have been practising fairness in our actions. Of course, fairness in our terms is for the "fast rat" an explanation behind why Gathenge has impregnated three girls and sponsored four abortions (some of us are struggling to sustain one). His heroism has made our mouths busy and his story fascinating. His run away,remand and cheating escapades make some 'newly cut' revere and dream breaking his record. He has money as a broker who cons fathers and mothers with their consent and therefore buys us all. It doesn't take much as you can think of, just a cup of the cheap coffee and a several kangumus and he's in control, only when around but as he departs, his stupidity is mocked.


" This conman must have the genes of a rat and a fox!" Spits Mathuri. We burst and this exoneration is embraced.

"How does one dip his whatever in all the available depths and without protection? Let him get near my sister..." Threatens Rucwiri, the thinnest in our gang.


Mathuri is besides himself with laughter,

"The last time I checked, you were thoroughly beaten by two sisters only to be given a month rest with swollen limbs and a broken lip. I'm waiting to see your action in dealing with a well fed man."

We, the spectators are enjoying. Our ribs are endangered,and as the attention shifts to the lady beaten sister protector, we can't have better.

"You fool bought me the outlawed liquor knowing so well that sour milk was my single most fermented drink. And those idiots..." He stops, spits and sweats not to say another word.

Gathuri, a more sensible, quite experienced having nursed two post-marriage back to zero (asset wise) and already grooming for a third one, raises the security topic.

" Do you guys think its fair for us, the young to stay out guarding the resources of these freedom fighting aged fellows as they snore?"

That's a great silence pill, maybe unconsciously, we're made thoughtful. The responses vary. For and against. It's agreed that by the end of the day, the folks are dying and within no time, we'll be well rewarded. The only concern is on fairness, a major unfair issue.

The rain falls. Heavily. We're excited, there's job tomorrow, planting and pushing lorries on the neglected roads. The truck and tractor owner, Wamakari is campaigning for the area MCA, promising good roads and a better bridge, probably to ensure his business thrives. Sadly, most of us were so busy sipping the cheap coffee that the voter registration period 'left us' behind, I bet Omtata will try fighting for us,and lose.

It's getting late, time to see what the stinking(cowdung and shower skips ensure this) wives have prepared and of course the whines top the list. We part but not without a final replay of the rogue boy's wife who is nursing face injuries after a failed attempt to scare the girl alleged to snatch the husband and most importantly his weekly paper bag( shopping).

Unlike, sheep and the river that follow a common course, each of us knows his way home. Speed is necessary as cowardice levels rise, at least when we're not together. Hasn't the rumours stated that some of us are the thieves and muggers? Plus Mama Toto songs lately are suggestive,war...

#Nomys_Madness