Oopsie!!!!!

It was so hot that day. I leaned over the city council fountain to douse myself with the crystal cool goodness. I leaned over perked my lips and let the water gush down my throat with speedy gulps. “AAAAAAAAAA!!” It felt so good. I let the water trickle down my throat and kiss my neck, damn it felt GOOOOOOD! I cupped the water in my hands once I had had my fill and doused my face with it; divine. I rested my palms on the water fountain’s ceramic sink and lifted my cool face to the sky. The sun on my cool face was magical. I bent over again to drink some more, I slowly removed my sandals and cupped water and splashed it on my bare feet. The water on the hot ground evaporated and left a scent of freshness, like wet soil after the rain. I unbuttoned my shirt and peeled it off my body and tossed it inside my bag. I cupped the water again and doused my chest and my head with water trickling down kissing my back. I let out a giddy laugh. I shook and let the water fling in the air like a shaggy dog. I loved it!

A street urchin stood next to me and stared. I looked at him drenched, “Kwani huna kwenu?” he blurted out. I looked at him and scoffed who cared? It was hot and I had found my Mecca of cool. I doused my head and chest once again slipped on my sandals and sat on a city bench. As usual the typical Kenyan reaction to this so called ‘improper’ conduct was to stare. I didn’t care much for it. People pee and take a dump in public and all I did was make full and good use of the city’s water supply which I pay for in my taxes. Huh!

There I sat and pulled out my ice cold bottle of water that I had bought and savoured every bit of its icy chill. Oops too fast! Brain freeze. First the hiss, using my index and thumb I held my temple and tried to shake it off. I grit my teeth but I couldn’t hold it in any longer I yelled so hard, the street came to a standstill and the people seated next to me stood up with clicks and palm and finger points of disgust. Of course I scoffed at them, but what I didn’t notice till I lay on the bench was I had only a vest on; the shirt I had removed was a shirt dress….. Explains the one man who stayed on the bench I lay on.

Office Cat fight

“’That’s what you deserve BITCH!’ I swear that is what she said Liz”

“No WAY!! even the most loathed criminal gets a decent send off.”

“For real when she stood up to read her mother’s eulogy, Chris just yelled that. Everyone was stunned. Like jaw dropping except for the immediate family in the front pew. Seems like they had had this drama forever.”

“I cannot believe she said that in front of all her workmates and business associates in attendance.”

“Well I won’t be one to be too hasty to judge. I have my own family drama.”

“We all do Winnie, but we don’t have to air it out in public.”

“Liz if you look at it this way, a funeral is a private affair, you are allowed to encroach on it, so naturally some of the private goes public when people explode like Chris here……”
Silence

Heels walk across the hall from Winnie and Liz’s desk and they hang their heads in shame. Chris was back from her compassionate leave and had been listening to the whole conversation. Liz and Winnie were too engulfed in their gossip to realize that she could hear them a cubicle away.

“Heheeeyyy! Chris! Hhhoooww are you doing now?” Liz gave off a goofy embarrassed smile.

“I don’t know BITCH how do you feel about yourself now, gossiping about my family at the office. Wait should I even bother calling it gossip, you were ALL there you DUMMIE!” Chris mouthed off and walked away in a huff.

“I told you we shouldn’t have spoken about this here!”

“You? YOU? How dare you Winnie? You were the one who solicited this information as your weekend catch up gossip. And I? Yes I! As USUSAL catch the flack for it!” Liz was now yelling at the top of her lungs. The typing and the phone calls stilled and everyone was now listening in on the chaos at Liz and Winnie’s station.

“Keep your voice down!”

“Keep my voice down Winnie? KEEP MY VOICE DOWN LIKE THIS? SO WHO DO YOU WANT TO GOSSIP ABOUT NOW AND GET ME BUSTED FOR AGAIN?”

“ALRIGHT! Stop this nonsense Liz, please calm down.” Winnie was straining to whisper and calm her down.”

“CALM DOWN? NOW YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN?” Liz was livid and irrational, Winnie was baffled, it was as if some bitch bug bit her when Chris spoke to her.

Winnie gave up and stood from her cubicle, all the peeping toms, quickly sat down with an occasional few still staring at Winnie’s cubicle awaiting the worst. An occasional smug look appeared on some work mates. As Winnie walked away she felt something hit her on the head really hard, she fell to the ground and passed out.

Zapped

The crowd was in a trance, their hands were in the air and they were waving side to side.  Women were on men’s shoulders screaming; one woman flashed her boobs at the band and then went wild. Underwear was flying on stage; the lead guitarist was drenched in his sweat and bobbing his head. The lead singer had flung his shirt off and jumped on stage shaking his dreadlocks. The crowd went wild.

It was an ocean of cheers; all the faces seem to merge into one and the screams in to one loud scream. The drummer went wild, he stood up and back flipped across the stage and the bass guitarist let his rhythm rip to the staccato of the lifts and lands of the drummers flips. The jumbotrons across the coliseum were wild with images of sweaty, semi nude bodies gyrating and hands swaying in the air.

The lights dimmed and the song ended. The crowd went wild. Then the ground shook. People cheered thinking it was a special effect. Then wild and frantic screams could be heard from the rear moving up to the stage. The crowd moved like a sea parted by Moses. A huge canyon emerged and split the audience. Couples were yelling each other’s names, crying and sharing emotional sentiments and gentle glances.

Then the ground began to rumble again. Those closest to the edge of the canyon began to fall in screaming. They fell straight into a fiery pit. Some people began to faint others high on drugs jumped in playfully thinking it was a swimming pool. Then out of the ground a space ship emerged to the surface with human bodies and blood splattered on its aluminum shell. A beam emerged and began to zap people willy nilly.  The crowds dispersed in opposite directions all running to exit the coliseum.

When the blue beam hit anyone they disintegrated. One girl who had been making out in the stands was zapped with her lover in her arms; her face went first before the rest of her body followed in a ball of blood and entrails. The space ship rotated its beam getting a fair share of every corner of the coliseum; it was piles of bloody and smelly waste; the stench of death. The space ship rose and bust through the roof of the coliseum and vanished in a spark of bright light.

Zapped

The crowd was in a trance, their hands were in the air and they were waving side to side.  Women were on men’s shoulders screaming; one woman flashed her boobs at the band and then went wild. Underwear was flying on stage; the lead guitarist was drenched in his sweat and bobbing his head. The lead singer had flung his shirt off and jumped on stage shaking his dreadlocks. The crowd went wild.

It was an ocean of cheers; all the faces seem to merge into one and the screams in to one loud scream. The drummer went wild, he stood up and back flipped across the stage and the bass guitarist let his rhythm rip to the staccato of the lifts and lands of the drummers flips. The jumbotrons across the coliseum were wild with images of sweaty, semi nude bodies gyrating and hands swaying in the air.

The lights dimmed and the song ended. The crowd went wild. Then the ground shook. People cheered thinking it was a special effect. Then wild and frantic screams could be heard from the rear moving up to the stage. The crowd moved like a sea parted by Moses. A huge canyon emerged and split the audience. Couples were yelling each other’s names, crying and sharing emotional sentiments and gentle glances.

Then the ground began to rumble again. Those closest to the edge of the canyon began to fall in screaming. They fell straight into a fiery pit. Some people began to faint others high on drugs jumped in playfully thinking it was a swimming pool. Then out of the ground a space ship emerged to the surface with human bodies and blood splattered on its aluminum shell. A beam emerged and began to zap people willy nilly.  The crowds dispersed in opposite directions all running to exit the coliseum.

When the blue beam hit anyone they disintegrated. One girl who had been making out in the stands was zapped with her lover in her arms; her face went first before the rest of her body followed in a ball of blood and entrails. The space ship rotated its beam getting a fair share of every corner of the coliseum; it was piles of bloody and smelly waste; the stench of death. The space ship rose and bust through the roof of the coliseum and vanished in a spark of bright light.

Shredded

The pile of rubbish fell on Eric, he had been warned severally about sleeping in the scrap section of the dump site. Now he was screaming, shrapnel had ripped his belly and left an egregious protrusion of his intestines. Eric’s screams turned hysterical, what the others did not know, was Eric was holding his intestines.

“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLPPPPP!!! This isn’t normal. Oh! My God! Oh! My God! HEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLPPPP!” Eric chocked and started spitting, tears gushed and he drooled liked a rabid dog. He was so far inside the scrap section of the garbage pile that it took at least half an hour to lift the lighter scrap metal above him. When Eric heard the other boys closer to him, he yelled. “NAKUFA NIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDIIIIIIEEEEEEEE” He was now slowly passing out. Then he heard a heaving sound and the walls of scrap metal began to collapse. Eric was shook to consciousness, he was passing out, he had lost a lot of blood and now his intestines were flowing freely in the scrap. Eric had lost feeling in his arms. He was going. Then one last tug and a beam of light flowed in.

“GAI MWATHANI.” Cosmas yelled. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Elijah slapped Eric in the face to keep him conscious, Cosmas yelled and gestured to the other boys to help, this was not a one man’s job. ‘Leta hiyo kit yako.” Simiyu was the aspirational one, he always kept clinical material for what he called ‘the day he will become doctor’.

Simiyu came running with a filled plastic bag while putting on a blood stained lab coat. It was his moment. He put the surgical gloves over his dirt stained hands. While he climbed the pile with the agility of a monkey, he tripped and fell head first on part of Eric’s intestine. Eric woke up and let out a blood curdling cry and started panting. His brow was doused in sweat and he kept asking for water, his eyes were turning white. The dump ‘doctor’ got up from his mess and carelessly lifted Eric’s intestines. “Unado?”  Cosmas asked as if he knew any better. They smelt something and sneered, Eric had defecated from the pain.

Simiyu looked at the others and directed them with his head to a more open place that had a dusty mattress; there he would ‘operate’. Cosmas and Elijah, looked at each other, now doused in Eric’s blood and then at Eric and then the mattress, then Simiyu then back at each other. They shook their heads, and placed Eric steadily on the ground, he let out a faint groan as they eased him on to a dry patch on the ground.  Simiyu was adjusting his gloves making a smack sound, proud and ready. He had picked a used syringe and pushed the bottom up hoping to have the usual sprinkle of medicine.

Cosmas and Elijah looked down at Eric who had clearly died, covered him with a sheet of scrap iron and walked away. That was the life they lead, they survived on scraps and like Eric died by it.

Disowned

“Just wait here, mummy’s coming back.” That was the 20^th time she had said that to the little boy. He finally let go and stood there unaccompanied. Gathu had been seated outside the shop for over an hour, as usual his colleague was late. He had tried reaching John but there was no response. His newspaper reading had been distracted by the woman and her long pleas of release from this little boy who looked like her child.

The boy stared helplessly as his mother turned round the corner. He was wearing a white bonnet that made his face look the centre of sunflower. His face was drenched in tears and snot, his sobbing distracted Gathu. The poor child kept reaching out for any adult that passed by him screaming “Maaaaaamaaaa! Maaamaaaa!” It was heart wrenching. His little blue shirt was tucked into brown courdoys that were now soaked in the crotch. His little feet buckled and he fell to the ground.

Gathu watched this boy frozen, his eyes were glued on the child’s eyes; he empathized and hadn’t realized that he too was crying. Teardrops flowed from his cheeks and dripped on his khakis. The boy was now seated legs in front and slumped over sobbing so hard his little body shook, he couldn’t have been older than 5. He no longer called out for Mama he just sobbed. Gathu rose, to save this little boy. As he rose his shoulder felt a tap. He turned to see where the tap came from; it was John smiling sheepishly. Gathu gave a blank stare and shook off John’s hand from his shoulder and steadied himself toward the broken child.

He walked eyes fixed on the boy ignoring the oncoming traffic separating him and the boy. Horns blaring, drivers yelling and gesturing profanely. Gathu didn’t care, he was focused on saving the broken boy. He reached and knelt next to the boy. The little boy was now quiet. He lifted the snotty and swollen baby face with his index and middle finger and gave him a warm smile. The boy started sobbing again and reached out arms wide toward Gathu. Gathu picked him up and held him close. His little head rested on his shoulder and he fell quiet. Gathu rocked him.

The madness on the road had died down, John crossed over to find out what Gathu was doing. “Are you insane?” John demanded. Gathu gestured to John to keep quiet and pointed at the boy now falling asleep on his shoulder. Gathu turned around scouting the area for the woman he saw earlier. He saw her, their eyes locked and she shook her head, as if saying she didn’t want the boy. Gathu started toward her and she back paced then turned and ran. Gathu yelled to John pointing him toward her direction. “Get her. Ni Mama wa huyu mtoto.” The boy was startled by the shouting and began sobbing again. Gathu looked down at him and kissed his forehead. “It will be fine Jesse.” He told the boy.

Blame Kirana

Aladdin’s genie got fed up of the three wishes nonsense. It had been 4,000 years of the same nonsense. What he didn’t know was his lamp was no longer buried safe in the desert it had been unearthed in Kenya.

And right in the heart of Kakamega forest; 19 year old Kirana was taking a walk. He picked up the lamp and dusted it off. He went to a nearby stream to wash off the lodged dirt to see the inscription on the side. It was in Arabic, nothing he could read even if he cleaned it off. He used his shirt to rub the lamp dry and shine it, the lid popped open and the genie came out stretching. Kirana fell and dropped the lantern on the ground.

The blue genie looked down at him and shook his head. “Where the hell is this?”

“Ka-ka-ka- kakamega.” Kirana stuttered.

“Kaka what? I didn’t sign up for this!” The genie exclaimed and then stared at him.

Kirana looked at him then around his environment to make a run for it. He pointed in the direction to the rear of the genie. Genie turned and then Kirana made a run for it. The genie flew and tapped Kirana’s sweaty shoulder drenched from fear than running. The genie pinned him down.

“Look pal you have three wishes that quite frankly I am fed up of dishing out, you are the last person I am granting wishes to before I smelt my lamp

and be free forever.”

“Nothing. I want nothing.” Then Kirana ran and stopped and turned in the direction of the lamp.

“Do you still need your lamp?” The genie looked at Kirana funny wondering what happened to the usual spitfire of requests. The genie responded with a curious look. “Maybe… why?”

“Want to make some tea and I thought it would be nice to use a fancy artifact like this.” The genie laughed and passed the lamp to him and flew off never to be seen again. Kirana never knew what he lost. All he knows is that whenever there is a need for the best tea, despite where or how it is brewed; the lamp morphs it into a spiced sensation. So the next time you wonder where the genie may have gone, screwing up your chances of getting your three coveted wishes blame Kirana!

It never makes sense

My friend, Hammy, told me that I would not like what I see when I get to know more about his species. I did not listen; what was it with slapdoves? The name in itself should give something away. Slap and dove, meekly violent or violently meek maybe? You see, I am a treysnail, we tend to be faster than the usual snail, more colourful, and communal creatures. We are what I like to call a cautious and optimistic species; where logic and heart converge. I always believed that since slapdoves were similar in appearance to us we may just have a lot of similarity.

You see us treysnails are lean, with an unusual chunkiness in the midriff and lower abdomen like the slapdoves. We live to about the same age as slapdoves and we intermarry. There never really was much of an issue before, until I ignored Hammy’s warning. I was tired and needed a break from the usual, loud chatter, endless toil and grooming; what nature thrust upon my kind. Hammy had told me that he had some relatives far off in the mountains; cool and calm with a great view from grand oaks were they perched. Who would turn that down, slavery to freedom?

I flapped to the forest where I met Hammy’s family. His brothers were warm and always making merry. We settled in for the evening. I was used to the labor and toil of Treysnails, you had to work to eat. Here to eat, they just preyed on their neighbours food. Not that they shared, they would literally snatch food from their neighbours and run to a shelter where they would gobble it all up. They were beasts; pure carnality.  

I went to bed that night trying to convince myself that it was just a one off event. The subsequent days and nights was the same. This behavior revolted me, but I stayed hoping things would be better. But on my fifth night, I regretted visiting. Hammy always told me, “Slapdoves use you.” I found out a gross necessity this revolting species required.  Slapdoves require the presence of treysnails to bear young.

When we had gone through the stupid snatch a grab feeding ritual, Hammy’s uncle stood and began to flap his wings and crane his neck, his mid section started to swell, then groaned deeply with an unusual reverb as he stared at me. I stood to walk away from this revolting scene, as I stepped back I bumped into Hammy’s family who now had their eyes popping out of their sockets groaning and beating their wings as well. Then all of a sudden a huge gush of blood doused us and there right next to Hammy’s uncle was…..Hammy’s uncle? 

Freaky Geezer

Andrew wasn’t ashamed of himself. Yes, he had just snatched a board game from a child because he was rude and threatened to tell on him. “Old fart get someone your own age to play with.” May have been out of line, but what was a 87 year old man doing visiting a 10 year old ‘friend’ and playing board games with? It may be cute or paedophilic depending on how you look at it, but this 87 year old was like Michael Jackson; an adult in flesh but a child in mind and heart.

Andrew was competitive and had the agility of a gymnast. The weird thing about Andrew’s condition was that it wasn’t senility driving him to his behavior. He was fully aware of his actions, his memory was intact. He knew he had his own children and grandchildren. He would swap from spoilt teen to repressive father when he was with his children and a competitive and outdoor exploring teen with his grandchildren. His grandchildren loved it, his children, not so much with an exception. His children had taken him to various geriatric physicians and neurologists, he was just fine. So here Andrew was, an adult –teen.

Bullying the kids and shoving them around like a neighbourhood wasn’t enough. He would bring home twenty year old girlfriends. He would always tell his children on weekend visits that he ‘scored’ with unflinching enthusiasm.

His eldest, Tina wasn’t fond of it especially when she walked in on him, with a weekend fling, with her son Ian who aptly yelled, “look grandpa is playing horsey.” Tina was torn between yelling, covering her eyes and her sons or shoving the poor kid out or whipping a gun out and firing a warning shot to have the ‘young whore’ flee out the window.

Andrew loves recalling that story and sharing it at meal time disregarding children’s presence. “Dad you are crude.” Jullian would howl from across the table.

“And I wish mum was around” Drew would chime in for good measure with a wink. Drew named after dad was the worst of the children. He would pretend to support his sisters; behind their back he was busy getting pointers from dad.

“Who cares about responsibility?” Andrew would yell at his children. ‘You are all grown up, my wife died and left me with her blessing. I have wealth and comfort. I can live my life all over again.”

That was going to change, how? They had no clue, but Jullian and Tina put together would have dad back from neighbourhood bully to sober adult in no time.

Sandy Odyssey

The day was so hot, they all felt like their skin was melting. The fairer skinned were flushed and scaly. The darker skinned looked like live shadows against the sandy back drop and clear blue skies. One man gave in and tossed off his vest and walked around bare-chested. He looked 9 months pregnant. Nauseating. But he wasn’t one to bother. If anything the direct sunlight might melt off a few pounds from that cage of constipation. I could have sworn I saw kicking in there. Eeek!

The ladies were modest, but smart, they wore long free frocks. And with the occasional gust of window there was a long line of Marilyn Monroe picturesque dress grabbing to avoid any indecency. The horizon was a burning mirage, lips were dry, feet were dusty and there was silence. When the wind blew you could hear gasps of relief just to have the dusty gust cool down their burning bodies.

Akasa was tired and started panting and gasping for air, he couldn’t move any further. 10 other before had thrown in the towel kilometers before. The only evidence that we could see of what remained of them was piles of vultures fighting and tugging on flesh. It deserved Akasa right, it was his bright idea to avoid the Bedouins and ‘find our own way which would be more fun.’ The explorative idiots, who outnumbered my dissent to losing the Bedouins, were now thirsty, and  short of eating each other’s flesh were now paying for this ‘grand’ adventure.

“We should have listened!” Hasana yelled.

People were too tired to say anything. I just stared at her and ‘flipped the bird’. She was one to talk now wasn’t she? What the hell did she know? She was the one wiggling in her now filthy, piss stained harem pants that we should keep going and ‘follow the wind to adventure.” And the twat thought it would be better to trek than get camels!!! What the hell was I doing there you wonder?

It started with an email group after a high school reunion. We thought, about 20 of us, to explore some of the wildest African sites. How much wilder and untamed is the Sahara desert? None is like it. And off we went, off to in to the sandy, hell of nature. Awesome! Well that was up until some of us were eaten alive by vultures and scorpion bites, and the few we lost who died of thirst, we only found them after realizing we had been trekking for five days round in circles.

“Wait!” Akasa lifted his head from the sand as if his sandy crystal ball had revealed a new truth and way out of this scorching hell. He raised his hand as if feeling for something, looked around and ululated.

We looked at each other wondering if this is what the end came to. Akasa ululated again, what followed left my heart racing and sweat glands working faster and harder than the past few days in the desert.