Letstoriesunfold ™

  You know those times unasikia ni kama unachizi? Umepanga vitu zako vizuri, from A-Z then everything decides to go tits up kama mende imededi? So recently I was in such a bubble, naona tu Dim.  Nikasema sitachizi niliona, wacha I go see my hombre, Tommie, pale Kach. It's very peaceful place btw. After the first day, we are beating stories after kumaliza shughuli mbili tatu, nothing major, just enough to feel productive without actually being productive.  Out of nowhere, Tommie leans in like he’s about to reveal state secrets. “Btw nilikuwa na mpango na fulani na yule jirani  nilikuwa nataka tupangane.  Si tufike hivyo?” We pull up to Jirani's compound, and the first thing we see? Two cocks. Full chest out. Feathers flying. Pride on the line. These roosters were not playing. This wasn’t a disagreement, this was generational beef. You could tell one of them had been waiting for this moment since childhood. Jamaa sees us and instead of greeting like a normal human...

                 It was one of those days, there I was chilling after some hectic shughuli, just trying to catch my breath, nangoja mat ijae itoke stage nifike mtaa. I spot this girl amekaa kando yangu holding a water bottle, and it was like ¾ full. I was feeling a little thirsty, ok, maybe more than a little.  I say hi to her, Namsho design jua imenikaranga kama mimi ni kitunguu, na venye naskia ulimi imekauka, wacha tu. Si mnaelewa hii joto imekuwa recently? I go ahead and ask her if she would mind giving me a sip of her water?  It seems to me like she doesn't mind my request, because she passes her water bottle over to me. I'm like, I can finally quench my thirst. I take one big sip, and immediately regret it… aiyo!  My tongue is like sandpaper. Naenda kutema, naona kanjo ndio huyo, ananingoja niteme tu hivi, ashuke, na ashine na mimi proper! Inabidi tu nimemeza shingo upande. Ikiteremka naskia ni kama my throat is hosting ...

Let's rewind to 1:00 PM when she had texted:   “Souley,  go to this place in Ngara,  ask for a guy called Musyoka.  He has the samples.  Just call me when you get there,  I’ll guide you.” Simple, right?  Now it’s 2:44. I’m here. I’ve found Musyoka. He’s chewing miraa, eyeing me like I’m slowing down his evening high.   “Oyaa,  niko na samples.  Si useme venye madam alisema.  Ni hizi ama zile?” I freeze. I don’t know. I was told to wait for her instructions. I try to call her again. Mteja. I text. Double tick. No blue. I even WhatsApp call her, desperate moves, you know? Musyoka is now shifting his weight like a man about to disappear. I try calling her again, muttering under my breath,  “This woman will be the end of me.” Then the rain starts. Nairobi rain doesn’t fall, it attacks. Boda guys scatter, hawkers scramble to save their goods, and I’m there, hunched under a mabati shade, holding a phone that won't ring, wit...