guilty

‘Guilty.’ The verdict read. ‘You are hereby sentenced to…’

‘Guilty?’ the defendant asked. ‘Of  what?’

He restrained himself from raising his voice, not wanting to be held in contempt as it had already happened several times during the hearing, were they seriously planning to pin on him the sins of an entire nation…

‘What am I guilty of?’ he demanded angrily. ‘My only crime is being born in an impoverished country, where people’s fate was determined by their social status or the status of the big men in society.’

‘Where the few big fish in the ‘big’ tribes control every single resource in that country.’ He seemed to be reeling from the shock of a guilty verdict.

‘Please…’ his defense attorney tried to restrain him.

‘Let the man talk.’ The judge allowed him to continue.

‘I am not responsible for death of millions of African children by Malaria, neither did I start or by any means spread HIV, still I do not get what I have to do with the deaths of millions of people from roads accidents.’ He seemed perplexed. ‘Of maternal deaths, don’t even get me started…and corruption…’ he paused. ‘Is this a sick joke or something?’

His defense lawyer cleared his throat anxiously.

The man went on. ‘For heaven’s sakes I did not start the post election violence.’ He was now pacing up and down as the Judge watched in amazement. ‘Yes, I may have posted a few hate messages for a rigged election but I killed no one, yes when those ‘people’ were killed, I felt nothing but I did not kill them my Lord, they had it coming. My only crime in this case would be voting for the man of my choice…my man.’

‘Your  man.’ The judge asked.

‘Indeed!’ the man replied. ‘My man…a man of the people!’ he added, his voice full of pride.

‘The man that you started to complain about a few months after the elections, as a matter of fact, you could hardly wait for the next general election to vote him out for his lack of a developmental record, but when the next general elections came you still voted for him… “your man”.’

‘with good reasons my Lord.’ The defendant responded.

His defense lawyer covered his face in disbelief. ‘MY LORD!’ he finally said. ‘I beg this honorable court not to consider my clients utterances’ as they are irrelevant at this stage of the proceedings. Evidence has already been adduced, the defense as well as the prosecution finalized their submissions. We believe the court has reached its judgment, all that remains is delivery of the judgment, which the defense prays it be done expeditiously so that we can lodge an appeal. ‘Counsel!’ The judge started in an all powerful voice. ‘Have I given out my ruling yet on the case and yet you still want to appeal, on what grounds!’

‘That my client was not accorded a fair hearing.’ He seemed to gain his confidence back. ‘my Lord, my clients right to due process was gravely violated.

‘Are you questioning the integrity of this court?’ the Supreme Judge’s eyes were squarely on the defense attorney.

‘No, my Lord.’ he defended himself. ‘I am simply questioning your rationale of condemning my client for the sins of the elite in his country. Why should a poor servant pay for his master’s corrupt ways?’

‘And so this ruling class I am assuming…are some sort of monarchy of some sort…how else did they get this near sovereign Lord Status?’ the judge pondered.

My Lord ‘I thought we were done here.’ The prosecutor asked. ‘My learned friend is simply wasting the court’s time; he should wait for the ruling and then appeal that is the due process of the law.’

‘Mr Prosecutor!’ The Judge said. ‘This is no ordinary court, yes the defendant is free to appeal once the judgment is pronounced, but until them I have no objections to listening to his defense.’

‘His vote was one in a million…maybe we should blame him for global warming as well.’ The defense lawyer said in frustration.

‘That is possible.’ The judge said writing something down. ‘I can add that to the charge sheet and call for a new trial. I do recall his love for plastics and his poor methods of disposing them.’

The prosecutor smiled slyly at the disbelieving defense attorney, it seemed like the toughest case of his career.

‘In line with the guilty verdict.’ The judge read the sentence. ‘In the first charge of mass murder of women, children and other vulnerable people such as elderly persons and persons with disabilities using weapons such as hunger, strife and aloofness. This court finds the accused guilty, the court is satisfied with the evidence adduced in this court, that on 5^th October 1995 the accused did nothing to help his neighbours wife and children though he knew the accused had  a history of mental problems but never used the information to help the family, the neighbor ended up murdering his wife and children. Still in the same village the accused knew of the men stealing from the villagers, he also knew that his nephew was defiling elderly women and persons with disabilities, impregnating some of the children with severe disabilities, you still aided his escape so that he could evade the arrest.’

The defendant hang his head in shame, he had done all that because he loved his sister.

‘In the second charge the court finds you guilty of the deaths of men, women and children through road carnages. The court is also satisfied with the evidence adduced that you watched at times with misguided sarcasm as money exchanged hands between the police and matatu driver, you were also at times the excess passenger and even when other passengers complained you derided them over their excess weight. Then a couple of years later you bought your own matatu, which with the passing of time became unroadworthy , but without insurance, without a propely trained driver it ended killing several people directly, indirectly it caused thousands of deaths, at one time your vehicle hit a five year old boy who was rushed to hospital in critical condition, you may not know this but the boy died several months later, but the accused paid the police so that his vehicle could return to the dusty village roads.’

The defense attorney fidgeted, the evidence at that point was overwhelming. The defendant seemed to be clutching at a straw.

‘On the third charge of failure to vote for the right leadership, gross corruption and sycophancy the court finds you guilty, the evidence proved beyond reasonable doubt that year after year you voted for your man, who in turn wasted all the resources that were within his reach, resulting in the constant impoverishment of my people, in maternal deaths for lack of proper medical facilities for women. The accused had the power to change all that by voting not on the basis on his tribe but on values such as integrity, honour and hard work. His man never delivered but because he was so ingrained on ‘his tribe’ ‘their tribe’ mentality, he drove his country the one that I had endowed with so much resources into a state of utter and complete failure. The court notes that the defendant can be described as cold, non-caring and a person who misused all the power given to him, he admitted to this court that while people from ‘the other tribe’ were being killed he felt nothing. Children died of malaria a preventable disease, the aged looked after HIV/Aids orphans all because of the choices the defendant made.’

‘On the three counts this court finds the defendant guilty as charged and hereby sentenced to eternal damnation. The defendant is free to make an appeal within fourteen days, after which the sentence will be final.’

guilty

‘Guilty.’ The verdict read. ‘You are hereby sentenced to…’

‘Guilty?’ the defendant asked. ‘Of  what?’

He restrained himself from raising his voice, not wanting to be held in contempt as it had already happened several times during the hearing, were they seriously planning to pin on him the sins of an entire nation…

‘What am I guilty of?’ he demanded angrily. ‘My only crime is being born in an impoverished country, where people’s fate was determined by their social status or the status of the big men in society.’

‘Where the few big fish in the ‘big’ tribes control every single resource in that country.’ He seemed to be reeling from the shock of a guilty verdict.

‘Please…’ his defense attorney tried to restrain him.

‘Let the man talk.’ The judge allowed him to continue.

‘I am not responsible for death of millions of African children by Malaria, neither did I start or by any means spread HIV, still I do not get what I have to do with the deaths of millions of people from roads accidents.’ He seemed perplexed. ‘Of maternal deaths, don’t even get me started…and corruption…’ he paused. ‘Is this a sick joke or something?’

His defense lawyer cleared his throat anxiously.

The man went on. ‘For heaven’s sakes I did not start the post election violence.’ He was now pacing up and down as the Judge watched in amazement. ‘Yes, I may have posted a few hate messages for a rigged election but I killed no one, yes when those ‘people’ were killed, I felt nothing but I did not kill them my Lord, they had it coming. My only crime in this case would be voting for the man of my choice…my man.’

‘Your  man.’ The judge asked.

‘Indeed!’ the man replied. ‘My man…a man of the people!’ he added, his voice full of pride.

‘The man that you started to complain about a few months after the elections, as a matter of fact, you could hardly wait for the next general election to vote him out for his lack of a developmental record, but when the next general elections came you still voted for him… “your man”.’

‘with good reasons my Lord.’ The defendant responded.

His defense lawyer covered his face in disbelief. ‘MY LORD!’ he finally said. ‘I beg this honorable court not to consider my clients utterances’ as they are irrelevant at this stage of the proceedings. Evidence has already been adduced, the defense as well as the prosecution finalized their submissions. We believe the court has reached its judgment, all that remains is delivery of the judgment, which the defense prays it be done expeditiously so that we can lodge an appeal. ‘Counsel!’ The judge started in an all powerful voice. ‘Have I given out my ruling yet on the case and yet you still want to appeal, on what grounds!’

‘That my client was not accorded a fair hearing.’ He seemed to gain his confidence back. ‘my Lord, my clients right to due process was gravely violated.

‘Are you questioning the integrity of this court?’ the Supreme Judge’s eyes were squarely on the defense attorney.

‘No, my Lord.’ he defended himself. ‘I am simply questioning your rationale of condemning my client for the sins of the elite in his country. Why should a poor servant pay for his master’s corrupt ways?’

‘And so this ruling class I am assuming…are some sort of monarchy of some sort…how else did they get this near sovereign Lord Status?’ the judge pondered.

My Lord ‘I thought we were done here.’ The prosecutor asked. ‘My learned friend is simply wasting the court’s time; he should wait for the ruling and then appeal that is the due process of the law.’

‘Mr Prosecutor!’ The Judge said. ‘This is no ordinary court, yes the defendant is free to appeal once the judgment is pronounced, but until them I have no objections to listening to his defense.’

‘His vote was one in a million…maybe we should blame him for global warming as well.’ The defense lawyer said in frustration.

‘That is possible.’ The judge said writing something down. ‘I can add that to the charge sheet and call for a new trial. I do recall his love for plastics and his poor methods of disposing them.’

The prosecutor smiled slyly at the disbelieving defense attorney, it seemed like the toughest case of his career.

‘In line with the guilty verdict.’ The judge read the sentence. ‘In the first charge of mass murder of women, children and other vulnerable people such as elderly persons and persons with disabilities using weapons such as hunger, strife and aloofness. This court finds the accused guilty, the court is satisfied with the evidence adduced in this court, that on 5^th October 1995 the accused did nothing to help his neighbours wife and children though he knew the accused had  a history of mental problems but never used the information to help the family, the neighbor ended up murdering his wife and children. Still in the same village the accused knew of the men stealing from the villagers, he also knew that his nephew was defiling elderly women and persons with disabilities, impregnating some of the children with severe disabilities, you still aided his escape so that he could evade the arrest.’

The defendant hang his head in shame, he had done all that because he loved his sister.

‘In the second charge the court finds you guilty of the deaths of men, women and children through road carnages. The court is also satisfied with the evidence adduced that you watched at times with misguided sarcasm as money exchanged hands between the police and matatu driver, you were also at times the excess passenger and even when other passengers complained you derided them over their excess weight. Then a couple of years later you bought your own matatu, which with the passing of time became unroadworthy , but without insurance, without a propely trained driver it ended killing several people directly, indirectly it caused thousands of deaths, at one time your vehicle hit a five year old boy who was rushed to hospital in critical condition, you may not know this but the boy died several months later, but the accused paid the police so that his vehicle could return to the dusty village roads.’

The defense attorney fidgeted, the evidence at that point was overwhelming. The defendant seemed to be clutching at a straw.

‘On the third charge of failure to vote for the right leadership, gross corruption and sycophancy the court finds you guilty, the evidence proved beyond reasonable doubt that year after year you voted for your man, who in turn wasted all the resources that were within his reach, resulting in the constant impoverishment of my people, in maternal deaths for lack of proper medical facilities for women. The accused had the power to change all that by voting not on the basis on his tribe but on values such as integrity, honour and hard work. His man never delivered but because he was so ingrained on ‘his tribe’ ‘their tribe’ mentality, he drove his country the one that I had endowed with so much resources into a state of utter and complete failure. The court notes that the defendant can be described as cold, non-caring and a person who misused all the power given to him, he admitted to this court that while people from ‘the other tribe’ were being killed he felt nothing. Children died of malaria a preventable disease, the aged looked after HIV/Aids orphans all because of the choices the defendant made.’

‘On the three counts this court finds the defendant guilty as charged and hereby sentenced to eternal damnation. The defendant is free to make an appeal within fourteen days, after which the sentence will be final.’

a well deserved break

A WELL DESERVED BREAK

Peter seemed relaxed on the journey back from Mombasa.

‘Mambasa!’ they had teased each other. ‘Mambasa.’ They had sung all the way from Nairobi to ‘Mambasa.’ Peter a couple of months back had somehow dated a young white lady.

‘I prefer the Kenyan ones.’ He smirked a bit arrogantly.

They had met at one of those days when Lisa his best friend took his to one of the Java kind of restaurants, a simple meal set him back by a thousand shillings.

‘I might as well use the toilets.’ He retorted. ‘At least I will leave something big that will have made my 1000 worth it.’

‘Rest room…’ she corrected him. ‘Or you can say ladies or gents.’

He gave her one of his playful looks.

‘The food was great; you can at least admit that.’ She said.

‘Yes, but the quantity was wanting.’ He told her. ‘And their clientele as you can see…ni wazungu and very rich Kenyans.’ He cast her, a goofy face. ‘And let’s not forget the ‘I seem to forget where my social class is’ Kenyans.’

‘I love the ambience.’ Lisa smiled, defending herself as they looked around, Peter seemed to notice the young white woman with blue eyes and blonde hair, she smiled at him, he blushed. Lisa noticed the sparks as Peter turned quickly.

‘I love her.’ She announced, leaning towards him. ‘She made you blush, you the typical African male.’

‘Hebu I go to the post office, I have some mail to drop.’ He started to leave.

‘Post office, toilet, gross!’ she said.

Lisa glanced at her purse; she had enough money just to get her home. She had hoped Peter would be gentleman enough and offer to pay, but that never happened. He had even joked at some point that since she had invited him, she needed to pay. She had met Peter in Campus and their relationship had blossomed into a wonderful, warm friendship, she could not tell if Peter liked her, or he just loved her as friend. Everyone kept telling her, that Peter was never going to love her like she loved him; he seemed to see her as a sister.

‘Maybe one day he may change his mind and decide I am the one he wanted to marry.’ She suggested several nights earlier to her sister as she got ready for bed.

‘The only way he will marry you.’ Cecily put her novel down and sat up on her bed. ‘is if the girl he has been chasing after all this while rejects him, and then all the other girls that he thought were suitable reject him and he realizes that he is growing too old. You’d make a good plan D siz.’

‘Nothing special about that.’ Peter thought as he came out the rest room.

He could have paid for Lisa’s meal, after all she had spend more money on him than he had in all their years of friendship, still he could not understand why he kept her in the friend zone. It did feel kinda great to know that he had many options when it came to deciding who he would spend the rest of his life with. His thoughts were far off, when he bumped into the pretty young white girl, he almost knocked her to the floor, he reached trying to stop her from hitting the beautiful tiled floor, but he lost his balance and they both fell on the floor. He gained his composure first. ‘I am so sorry miss.’ He helped her on her feet.

‘It’s ok.’ She smiled.

Her smile seemed to knock his senses out; from her accent he could tell she was American.

‘Am Peter.’ He smiled and gave her his hand.

‘You too seem to be soooo in love.’ Lisa stressed on the issue as they lay on one of the beautiful sandy beaches in Mombasa.

‘We were.’ Peter said.

‘Peter, you have changed a lot.’ Lisa admitted. ‘Kumbe you are not the nice guy I thought you were.’ She sounded disappointed.

He could not believe how amazing Lisa looked in a bikini; he could not keep his eyes off her gorgeous body. Her stomach was flatter than a pancake, her figure finer than an hour glass.

‘As I said.’ Peter added. ‘I prefer Kenyan women.’

Lisa just smiled as she sat up. ‘Peter you used her for her money you loving Kenyan women has nothing to do with it.’

‘That solar is killing me.’ She touched her shoulder slightly.

‘You are tanning.’ He lay looking at her smooth brown complexion.

‘Pete…’ she started. ‘Is that what Nicole baby used to call you?’ She was looking at him. ‘I am African, tanning doesn’t apply to me, sun burnt does.’

‘I can apply some sun screen on you.’ He offered sitting up and taking the sunscreen into his hands.

‘No thank you.’ She grabbed the sun screen bottle. ‘I would rather that hot guy over there did it?’

Peter glanced at Kimae, he was their colleague, and he seemed to be in a world of his own, with ear phones reading a novel. Lisa got up and walked towards the water, the sun just seemed to illuminate her body and make it even more beautiful. His thoughts shifted towards her, he was thinking about all the things he wanted to do her, she seemed confident as well. He walked towards the edge of the water, she also moved towards him.

‘Besides she can’t cook Ugali.’ He volunteered some more information.

‘You didn’t seem to mind spending her money.’ Lisa retorted.

The relationship had been short lived but amazing, even though he had a well paying job, and his investments in the transport industry were doing amazingly well, he had lied to Nicole, he had led her into believing he was from a lower social class than he actually was. She had paid for his trip to the Maasai Mara, and what an adventure they had, he never knew the wild could be so interesting. She had flown his to Zanzibar for a romantic getaway at the sun kissed beaches. She seemed to be genuinely interested in him. When she proposed a long distance relationship he lied that he would rather they be friends so that his heart would not be broken. She was nice about it, she had promised to look him the next year when she visited and take him to ‘Mambasa!’

‘Mambasa…’ he teased her.

‘Mambasa…’ she repeated not knowing he was making fun of her.

He watched as Lisa chatted with some white Italians, what could they be talking about. She seemed to smile a lot; it seemed to bother him a lot.

‘Lisa.’ He put his arm around her warm shoulders. ‘Come on sweetie, let’s go for swim.’

She removed his arm as they walked into the sunset.

‘Lisa.’ He started. ‘Have you ever thought of us as a …’

She removed his hand slowly creeping up on her waist. ‘You have bikini fever.’

He seemed confused.

‘Your thinking ability has been affected by seeing women in two pieces.’ She said. ‘Let’s get back to Nairobi and your fever will go down when you see normal women in normal clothing.’

He quickly moved away sensing that Lisa was about to turn him down, but she was right when they got back to Nairobi the fever was gone, but he could not forget the sun soaked days and long night walks in the beach, they were just so beautiful. Still he could forget Lisa and how great her body looked without all the layers of clothes on them. He needed a sign, a big sign to prove to himself that Lisa could be more than just a friend.

Life was indeed amazing for the twenty something’s that on an Easter weekend they could afford to leave behind the hassle of the big city and escape for a nice Easter get away. Life was indeed good for Peter, he had landed a job even before he left Campus, even before graduation he had a good job, and to add to his list of many blessings he had pretty good genes, well he was not bad to look at. Indeed he seemed to have been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. The taxi driver dropped him off at his gate, it was late at night, noticing that the security guard was not in his usual place, not that there was one constant guard it was the care taker, he doubled as the security guard, most nights you would find him asleep in his house and not at the gate. He let himself in and walked two floors up to his door. He tried to open the door for several seconds but he could not feel the padlock with his hands, realizing the door was not locked, he quickly opened his door, his heart bumping faster than when he had laid his eyes on Lisa’s body. He tried to switch on the lights but the bulb seemed not to light, he rushed outside in a daze; the entire estate was lit brightly. He rushed back to his house and tried to feel around, he felt desperate, he could feel nothing, he touched the walls to the main switch but he turned the switch but nothing seemed to happen. He remembered the little torch he carried with him, he rushed and brought it in the house.

The little torch lit brightly, but the night seemed too silent as his mind tried to reconcile what his eyes were registering, he quickly rushed outside and shone the light at his house number, it was his house alright, the neighbor came out as if to confirm he was in the right house.

‘We saw people moving things from your house in the middle of the night over the weekend and thought you were moving out.’

He made an attempt to follow Peter into the house but Peter slammed the door in his face angrily. Who moves out in the middle of the night?

He walked around all the other rooms in his house, everything movable was gone, and he had nothing apart from the clothes he had carried to Mombasa. He reached out for his phone and dialed Lisa’s number. The only person he could call.

‘Hello.’ She seemed sleepy. ‘Peter nilifika kitambo.’ She joked.

‘Lisa.’ He said in a shaky voice. ‘My house has been robbed, there’s nothing left…’

eight funny facts

What do people really mean when the say: -

·         It’s who I am, I tell it as is.

That is totally fake, what they are actually saying is, I need psychological help, I have an identity crisis PLEASE HELP ME! Or as my younger brother puts it I tell it as it is to people I really don’t care about but to the people I really care and love I am afraid of hurting their feelings.

The ‘I tell it as it’ simply put is that the person in question is rude and they don’t want to do anything about it. Shame!

·         “I am opened minded” is simply another way of saying I am confused.

So for the students of English, Open minded and confused can be used interchangeably. Well, they should be.

·         “I will know when I get there,”

 It only means that you are lost and you need all the help you can get in finding your way in life. It also means you haven’t thought much about your life. You may get there and realize that you never wanted to go there in the first place.

·         “I want a man who is tall dark and handsome or I want a very beautiful woman for a wife.”

Means: You are not pretty yourself, or handsome. Beauty is not something you possess. People always want what they are not. It may also mean you understand evolution and do not your offspring to have undesirable traits.

·         “Let me pray about it.” Men this actually means: -

1.      Even though, I have never thought about you, you might be a good plan B.

2.      You are not the only one in the picture and I am afraid that if I say yes to you I might lose out on the one I truly love.

3.      The thought of getting married to you or being in relationship with you is too scary, and I need all the strength I can before saying yes.

4.      I need to beat my body into submission just to be able to say yes.

God has nothing to do with it, just a battle that I have to fight with my inner self.

·         “Our tribe is being attacked, is another way of saying; we are very foolish beyond measure. Usually the politician involved has NOTHING to do with you, and does not know you even exist and even the same was to happen to you, the phrase would not be used to apply to you.

·         Since those shady phone dealers are not planning to give me one bob change back, then the 3499 should change to 3500, the 4999 should be 5000, while the 4449 should be 4450. Enough said.

·         Of night runners, do they have six packs, are they handsome/pretty because they would be cute to watch or spy on. It might also help their cause when they are arguing that night running is of no harm to anyone apart from the runner who risks pneumonia for running naked in the middle of a cold night. If the night runner is not as good looking and he’s running in his birthday suit that might not only be scary but also traumatizing to anyone who may accidentally see them. This also goes for the men; please don’t remove your shirt in public unless you have a six pack.

Nice guys finish last

NICE GUYS FINISH LAST

‘Nice guys finish last.’ Kamau let out an audible sigh. ‘What do women want?’ he wanted shout from the sandy valleys of Lake Turkana to the sandy beaches in Mombasa, but he knew the answer to that, they wanted a man, tall dark (not as dark as him), handsome and rich. No woman wanted to date nice guys such as him, they didn’t care that he was a doctor, a young and successful doctor who had his whole life ahead of him, like that lunch time he had finally mustered the courage to speak to the girl of his dreams…literally, they kind that left him feeling like he was in heaven, the girl in his dreams every night. That event had taught him a lot of things he should NEVER say to a girl. Like, there are some late night fantasies that they may never want to know that they are part of.

Anyway this girl, he knew her by her first name Andrea, another lesson that life changing event had taught him, never to date girls with fancy names, next time he was looking for a Mary, Jane or Mercy, from the first day he had laid his eyes on her he could not tell whether she was a really light skinned Kenyan or a point-five, but she was beautiful, even when he took off his glasses, for he was indeed short sighted, like three of his siblings, and his father, as if that was not enough, he had asthma, well it ran in the family…bad genes as his ex-girlfriend had pointed out, the only girl to have agreed to date him, only to dump him a couple of months later, another life lesson he had learnt, never tell a girl you are dating that your family has some defective genes added to a lack of height and good looks.

‘Asthma is genetic.’ Anne his then girlfriend seemed puzzled. ‘So that means if we get children, they might be asthmatic.’

Yes that was a turn off it seemed.

‘Why do you cross your legs like a girl?’ she asked. ‘Oh my God you are going to cry!’

Anne seemed to have a problem with everything that he was.

Then there was Andrea, she had just been employed into the civil service a couple of weeks earlier, she seemed like a beautiful city girl trying to adjust to a village life, it wasn’t easy, she had applied for the job just to show her father could, but she was trying, she was that beautiful Mercedes Benz stuck in some sand somewhere in the remotest place in Kenya, but the engine would not die and slowly she was pulling herself from the sand and starting to enjoy the rural freshness. Still, a beautiful classy woman like her would never fit fully in such a small town, more like a village shopping centre. So that day, Andrea sat with one of her female workmates at their usual place, Marigu-ini Hotel, a small eating place with benches instead of chairs such that all their customers sat awfully close to each other, the food was alright, in all the years they had been in operation no one had complained of any ailment, despite their low standard of hygiene.   Andrea took some time getting used to the food and the hotel, her father was rich man, one of the wealthiest in Kenya, he owned thousands of acres of prime land, his investments in real estate and the hotel industry was immeasurable,  so when her fridge dried out, she had no desire to cook, it was one of those alien things to her, she tried the food in the small hotel and it didn’t hurt her stomach and she wanted to blend in, no one could know who her father was, maybe if  Kamau had known this he would have realized how incompatible they were. Her bright brown eyes lit up the rooms and her teeth seemed like they were pulled from a toothpaste advertisement, every one man wanted her and so did Kamau.

And Dr. Matumbe was in luck, there was an empty seat right next to Andrea, yes even his name was another reason why girls seemed to avoid him, so he used his father’s name Kariuki for all the Kikuyu girls he tried to chat up. Seriously no woman seemed comfortable being referred to as Mrs. Matumbe , he could never understand how eggs could be so disgusting to many women.

‘Can I call you by your first name?’ one of his classmates had him asked in campus. ‘Your last name is just weird, what was your mother thinking?’ she rolled her eyes as the rest of her click joined her in laughter.

He mustered all his strength, passed an empty bench and sat across Andrea and her friend.

‘Hi my name is Simon.’ He tried to join in their conversation.

It was one of those days he wished he had carried his white coat so that she could see he was a very important person in society, but some women were so blind, one had asked him if he worked for the nearby butchery, women were not so easily impressed, another life lesson.

He looked straight into her brown eyes. ‘I’m a doctor at the District Hospital.’

Andrea just stared at him in half disbelief, but not too bothered, she was used to men falling over for her, at times the attention was good, and it got her services faster that the average looking woman plus some services she got free, all because she was beautiful, but free was not an option for a young woman who had been accustomed to everything that she ever wanted.

‘Do you girls want sodas?’ he asked in courtesy. ‘Si this place is so hot.’

There was awkward silence for a second before Andrea resumed chatting with her colleague.

‘If only Nai wasn’t so far away.’ she lamented. ‘One of these days…’ she bit her tongue.

‘Acha you silly dreams, Madam you know who will never allow the ‘I was coming from Nairobi’ excuse?’ her colleague chimed in. ‘Darling forget about it and your dad am sure has something to do with all these.’

They spoke like city girls, the heavily accented English with a bit Swa-English here and there, he wanted her even more and no rejection was going to put him down. He seemed to get him break when Andrea received a phone call, her colleague turned to him.

‘So you are a doctor.’ She sought confirmation.

‘Yes.’ He smiled.

‘She’s Andrea and I’m Shiro.’ She introduced them. ‘We work for…’

‘Registrar of births and deaths.’ He jumped in too quickly.

Shiro seemed a little bit uncomfortable.

‘Everyone knows where you work.’ He tried to make her feel easy. ‘You two are like the most discussed item in the doctors’ room.’

Shiro tried to feign a sweet smile.

‘You and And-ri-a are in a lot of our dreams as well.’ He let his mouth take the lead as usual, this was close to the point that he learnt you should never tell a girl that she has featured severally in your crazy dreams. ‘All the doctors talk about you so highly.’

‘So you like do everything including childbirth.’ Shiro tried to change the topic.

‘Yes, but for childbirth they only call us when there’s prolonged labour, or a CS, you know a caesarean section.’ He said animatedly. ‘Childbirth changes women; I mean I can put both hands in there in certain cases like after the second child.’ He laughed heartedly.

Shiro almost poured her neighbors’ hot tea in all the shock of what this complete stranger was telling them.

‘And-ri-a…’ he tried to chat to her as soon as she was done on the phone.

‘Andrea…’ she corrected him. ‘Why are you talking to this freak?’ she rolled her eyes turning to her friend. ‘Yes I understand we are in some village somewhere in Kenya but dear stop…please.’ She moved her perfectly manicured hands, her skin was blemish free.

Her voice was silky and cool, it gave him the determination not to give up on a girl he really liked, and maybe she would come around.

‘I am a doctor.’ He addressed Andrea. ‘Anytime you feel unwell, come and see, I will treat you for free.’

‘Dude.’ Andrea responded. ‘If I felt unwell, AA would come and get me in a flash, besides I don’t do cheap and that includes poorly paid doctors.’

Her father loved her a lot and luckily she had only told him after she got the job, after a couple of months she would quit and help her father manage his investments, they were only three daughters and her two elder sisters  were already working for him, it was only a matter of time before he sent for her. It did not surprise her if he had some people watching over her but she was a free spirit.

Andrea turned Shiro. ‘Hebu we go, before this germ infested doctor, infects us with something.’

Then it hit him, she was not playing hard to get, she was hard to get.

Shiro paid, as Andrea waited for her outside, Simon decided to try his luck one more time, he quickly rushed outside not to wanting to miss an opportunity.

‘I am sorry if I was upfront about the stretched out vag…’he stopped himself from saying the word. ‘I am a doctor, you see a lot and it just changes the way you see and talk about things.’

All the while she seemed like she was listening, it felt amazing to be so close to her.

‘I sit like next to you every day, at lunch time.’ He smiled. ‘I just want to say I like you and I am a nice guy. If…’

‘Look…’ Andrea stopped him. ‘In your district hospital, to they treat stupid.’

He seemed confused, he seemed the sarcasm.

Shiro didn’t understand why this guy was doing this to himself, Andrea was tearing him apart and he didn’t even seem to notice.

‘Can they like prescribe a pill that kinda increases your self esteem because you need it.’ She finally let him have it. ‘I don’t do pathetic, I am not in your class, and I am so ashamed of the me that has been doing rounds in your perverted little mind, arrgh that is so disgusting, am gonna need some shots.’ She studied him from head to toe. ‘I am like so embarrassed to be seen with you. So you little roach, look at you I would die if someone saw me walking with you…arrgh.’ She seemed genuinely disgusted. ‘What would give some guy like you, confidence to talk to someone like me?’

As they walked away, he could hear Andrea telling Shiro that was the last time she was visiting such a cheap dingy place and that she was calling her father and asking for a position in his company.

‘Ati this ka-dude went to Starehe School.’ Shiro also decided to take a punch at him. ‘Do you even know what that means?’

Simon felt his confidence fade away, some nurses giggled as he made his way to the labour ward, word had already reached the hospital, it all reminded him of Anne, the day she dumped him, all he had wanted to know was why the girl he had tried to chat up had said no to him, even before he asked her to be his girlfriend. ‘I am a nice guy.’ He said to himself.

‘Nice has nothing to do with being plain looking.’ Anne had told him as she dumped him over phone as he called to wish her goodnight. ‘You are a messed up little man with self esteem issues, who needs his momma or a psychologist to make him feel better, I am tired of having to put up with your humiliations and you trying to put me down so that I can be a pathetic feeling person like you.’ And this was only a month later.

‘I am sorry if that is the way you felt.’ He tried to apologize.

‘Simon!’ she yelled. ‘You wanna know how I felt, I felt like I was wore the pants in this relationship while you behaved like a sad little girl with massive body issues which translated to major mind boggling SELF ESTEEM ISSUES.’ She screamed towards the very end.

He could not help that his lips were disproportionate to each other, and his teeth seemed to be shaped differently from each other, not to mention his short thin looking body.

Still he was nice guy and they always came last, years later he hoped Andrea would see what she had missed by being rude to a nice guy, all because he was short, wore glasses and was not in the same class with her, or at least he hoped. His princess would come one day and maybe she would love just as he was, if not she would love him because he was a doctor, that had to count for something. 

Nice guys finish last

NICE GUYS FINISH LAST

‘Nice guys finish last.’ Kamau let out an audible sigh. ‘What do women want?’ he wanted shout from the sandy valleys of Lake Turkana to the sandy beaches in Mombasa, but he knew the answer to that, they wanted a man, tall dark (not as dark as him), handsome and rich. No woman wanted to date nice guys such as him, they didn’t care that he was a doctor, a young and successful doctor who had his whole life ahead of him, like that lunch time he had finally mustered the courage to speak to the girl of his dreams…literally, they kind that left him feeling like he was in heaven, the girl in his dreams every night. That event had taught him a lot of things he should NEVER say to a girl. Like, there are some late night fantasies that they may never want to know that they are part of.

Anyway this girl, he knew her by her first name Andrea, another lesson that life changing event had taught him, never to date girls with fancy names, next time he was looking for a Mary, Jane or Mercy, from the first day he had laid his eyes on her he could not tell whether she was a really light skinned Kenyan or a point-five, but she was beautiful, even when he took off his glasses, for he was indeed short sighted, like three of his siblings, and his father, as if that was not enough, he had asthma, well it ran in the family…bad genes as his ex-girlfriend had pointed out, the only girl to have agreed to date him, only to dump him a couple of months later, another life lesson he had learnt, never tell a girl you are dating that your family has some defective genes added to a lack of height and good looks.

‘Asthma is genetic.’ Anne his then girlfriend seemed puzzled. ‘So that means if we get children, they might be asthmatic.’

Yes that was a turn off it seemed.

‘Why do you cross your legs like a girl?’ she asked. ‘Oh my God you are going to cry!’

Anne seemed to have a problem with everything that he was.

Then there was Andrea, she had just been employed into the civil service a couple of weeks earlier, she seemed like a beautiful city girl trying to adjust to a village life, it wasn’t easy, she had applied for the job just to show her father could, but she was trying, she was that beautiful Mercedes Benz stuck in some sand somewhere in the remotest place in Kenya, but the engine would not die and slowly she was pulling herself from the sand and starting to enjoy the rural freshness. Still, a beautiful classy woman like her would never fit fully in such a small town, more like a village shopping centre. So that day, Andrea sat with one of her female workmates at their usual place, Marigu-ini Hotel, a small eating place with benches instead of chairs such that all their customers sat awfully close to each other, the food was alright, in all the years they had been in operation no one had complained of any ailment, despite their low standard of hygiene.   Andrea took some time getting used to the food and the hotel, her father was rich man, one of the wealthiest in Kenya, he owned thousands of acres of prime land, his investments in real estate and the hotel industry was immeasurable,  so when her fridge dried out, she had no desire to cook, it was one of those alien things to her, she tried the food in the small hotel and it didn’t hurt her stomach and she wanted to blend in, no one could know who her father was, maybe if  Kamau had known this he would have realized how incompatible they were. Her bright brown eyes lit up the rooms and her teeth seemed like they were pulled from a toothpaste advertisement, every one man wanted her and so did Kamau.

And Dr. Matumbe was in luck, there was an empty seat right next to Andrea, yes even his name was another reason why girls seemed to avoid him, so he used his father’s name Kariuki for all the Kikuyu girls he tried to chat up. Seriously no woman seemed comfortable being referred to as Mrs. Matumbe , he could never understand how eggs could be so disgusting to many women.

‘Can I call you by your first name?’ one of his classmates had him asked in campus. ‘Your last name is just weird, what was your mother thinking?’ she rolled her eyes as the rest of her click joined her in laughter.

He mustered all his strength, passed an empty bench and sat across Andrea and her friend.

‘Hi my name is Simon.’ He tried to join in their conversation.

It was one of those days he wished he had carried his white coat so that she could see he was a very important person in society, but some women were so blind, one had asked him if he worked for the nearby butchery, women were not so easily impressed, another life lesson.

He looked straight into her brown eyes. ‘I’m a doctor at the District Hospital.’

Andrea just stared at him in half disbelief, but not too bothered, she was used to men falling over for her, at times the attention was good, and it got her services faster that the average looking woman plus some services she got free, all because she was beautiful, but free was not an option for a young woman who had been accustomed to everything that she ever wanted.

‘Do you girls want sodas?’ he asked in courtesy. ‘Si this place is so hot.’

There was awkward silence for a second before Andrea resumed chatting with her colleague.

‘If only Nai wasn’t so far away.’ she lamented. ‘One of these days…’ she bit her tongue.

‘Acha you silly dreams, Madam you know who will never allow the ‘I was coming from Nairobi’ excuse?’ her colleague chimed in. ‘Darling forget about it and your dad am sure has something to do with all these.’

They spoke like city girls, the heavily accented English with a bit Swa-English here and there, he wanted her even more and no rejection was going to put him down. He seemed to get him break when Andrea received a phone call, her colleague turned to him.

‘So you are a doctor.’ She sought confirmation.

‘Yes.’ He smiled.

‘She’s Andrea and I’m Shiro.’ She introduced them. ‘We work for…’

‘Registrar of births and deaths.’ He jumped in too quickly.

Shiro seemed a little bit uncomfortable.

‘Everyone knows where you work.’ He tried to make her feel easy. ‘You two are like the most discussed item in the doctors’ room.’

Shiro tried to feign a sweet smile.

‘You and And-ri-a are in a lot of our dreams as well.’ He let his mouth take the lead as usual, this was close to the point that he learnt you should never tell a girl that she has featured severally in your crazy dreams. ‘All the doctors talk about you so highly.’

‘So you like do everything including childbirth.’ Shiro tried to change the topic.

‘Yes, but for childbirth they only call us when there’s prolonged labour, or a CS, you know a caesarean section.’ He said animatedly. ‘Childbirth changes women; I mean I can put both hands in there in certain cases like after the second child.’ He laughed heartedly.

Shiro almost poured her neighbors’ hot tea in all the shock of what this complete stranger was telling them.

‘And-ri-a…’ he tried to chat to her as soon as she was done on the phone.

‘Andrea…’ she corrected him. ‘Why are you talking to this freak?’ she rolled her eyes turning to her friend. ‘Yes I understand we are in some village somewhere in Kenya but dear stop…please.’ She moved her perfectly manicured hands, her skin was blemish free.

Her voice was silky and cool, it gave him the determination not to give up on a girl he really liked, and maybe she would come around.

‘I am a doctor.’ He addressed Andrea. ‘Anytime you feel unwell, come and see, I will treat you for free.’

‘Dude.’ Andrea responded. ‘If I felt unwell, AA would come and get me in a flash, besides I don’t do cheap and that includes poorly paid doctors.’

Her father loved her a lot and luckily she had only told him after she got the job, after a couple of months she would quit and help her father manage his investments, they were only three daughters and her two elder sisters  were already working for him, it was only a matter of time before he sent for her. It did not surprise her if he had some people watching over her but she was a free spirit.

Andrea turned Shiro. ‘Hebu we go, before this germ infested doctor, infects us with something.’

Then it hit him, she was not playing hard to get, she was hard to get.

Shiro paid, as Andrea waited for her outside, Simon decided to try his luck one more time, he quickly rushed outside not to wanting to miss an opportunity.

‘I am sorry if I was upfront about the stretched out vag…’he stopped himself from saying the word. ‘I am a doctor, you see a lot and it just changes the way you see and talk about things.’

All the while she seemed like she was listening, it felt amazing to be so close to her.

‘I sit like next to you every day, at lunch time.’ He smiled. ‘I just want to say I like you and I am a nice guy. If…’

‘Look…’ Andrea stopped him. ‘In your district hospital, to they treat stupid.’

He seemed confused, he seemed the sarcasm.

Shiro didn’t understand why this guy was doing this to himself, Andrea was tearing him apart and he didn’t even seem to notice.

‘Can they like prescribe a pill that kinda increases your self esteem because you need it.’ She finally let him have it. ‘I don’t do pathetic, I am not in your class, and I am so ashamed of the me that has been doing rounds in your perverted little mind, arrgh that is so disgusting, am gonna need some shots.’ She studied him from head to toe. ‘I am like so embarrassed to be seen with you. So you little roach, look at you I would die if someone saw me walking with you…arrgh.’ She seemed genuinely disgusted. ‘What would give some guy like you, confidence to talk to someone like me?’

As they walked away, he could hear Andrea telling Shiro that was the last time she was visiting such a cheap dingy place and that she was calling her father and asking for a position in his company.

‘Ati this ka-dude went to Starehe School.’ Shiro also decided to take a punch at him. ‘Do you even know what that means?’

Simon felt his confidence fade away, some nurses giggled as he made his way to the labour ward, word had already reached the hospital, it all reminded him of Anne, the day she dumped him, all he had wanted to know was why the girl he had tried to chat up had said no to him, even before he asked her to be his girlfriend. ‘I am a nice guy.’ He said to himself.

‘Nice has nothing to do with being plain looking.’ Anne had told him as she dumped him over phone as he called to wish her goodnight. ‘You are a messed up little man with self esteem issues, who needs his momma or a psychologist to make him feel better, I am tired of having to put up with your humiliations and you trying to put me down so that I can be a pathetic feeling person like you.’ And this was only a month later.

‘I am sorry if that is the way you felt.’ He tried to apologize.

‘Simon!’ she yelled. ‘You wanna know how I felt, I felt like I was wore the pants in this relationship while you behaved like a sad little girl with massive body issues which translated to major mind boggling SELF ESTEEM ISSUES.’ She screamed towards the very end.

He could not help that his lips were disproportionate to each other, and his teeth seemed to be shaped differently from each other, not to mention his short thin looking body.

Still he was nice guy and they always came last, years later he hoped Andrea would see what she had missed by being rude to a nice guy, all because he was short, wore glasses and was not in the same class with her, or at least he hoped. His princess would come one day and maybe she would love just as he was, if not she would love him because he was a doctor, that had to count for something.