Tabibu kutoka Tanga

He had always seen those, “Daktari wa kutoka Tanga” posters offering herbal remedies to find love, a job, break curses or give the sterile a va-va-voom boost. Henry always scoffed it off. But today was different; he stood staring at the poster stuck on a stop sign with an unusual eagerness and anxiety. A man shoved him with his huge sack; Henry lost his balance and stepped on a child who was now screaming at the top of their lungs with mum wagging her umbrella at him. “Shenzi huoni hii ni mtoto?”

He apologized very confused, everything happened so fast. Then he looked up again at the sign then someone passed him, he did not see her, her? How did he know? He didn’t have to see her; he smelt her sweet, floral perfume. He looked around to see the bearer of the scent, no luck. He looked up at the sign again with a knowing and cheesy smile and winked. He didn’t have to call; a long glance at the poster was all he needed to solve his problems.

As he walked toward Moi Avenue away from the noise of Ronald Ngala Street, he bumped into an old friend. “Chief! Which rock have you been hiding under?” Felix exclaimed while giving Henry the shoulder hug. “Siku mingi bro!” Henry for some reason felt relieved. Felix had just started off work as a sales person in an IT firm in the city when they last met. “Chief! That was like 5 years ago. Job?” The enquiry made Henry a bit uncomfortable and he shrugged then smiled to muffle his disappointment.

“Uskonde utaget!” Felix exclaimed with a morale boosting pat on the back. They shoulder hugged again and bid each other farewell. Henry put his hand in his pockets, eyes on his feet and walked away pensive and sad. He walked a few steps and felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked back, it was Felix. “Niambie!” Henry exclaimed enthusiastically.

“Pole buda! Give me your number, you are still in IT yeah?!” Henry nods. “I think there might be an opening in our office. Nitaget details Nitakupigia.” Henry smiled and said a huge thank you to Felix. Felix smiled and nodded knowingly then walked away. Henry looked toward the direction of the stop sign with the lame poster and smiled.

He visualized the words on the poster, Jobs, “check” he thought as he walked. When he got to Moi Avenue a lady was texting on her phone. Shoulder length jet black hair, gold studs, a form fitting stone grey frock with black pumps and French manicured nails. This olive tanned beauty drew Henry like a magnet. She was about to be knocked by a car when Henry grabbed her by the waist and lifted her to safety. She was shaken and smelled florally sweet. Henry looked into her eyes, “check” he thought. 

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