Nyama, what happened next?

This is a continuation from

 the first part of Nyama

Enjoy.

I parked my chopper and went over to check the carcass. I found it was still oozing warm blood, then I quickly scanned the area and found that it was clear, not a car in sight for miles. I was still scratching my head, thinking about what to do, when I saw Jakofu. 

He lived a stone's throw to where I was. He was herding a caucasian's goats when I whistled to alert him. He knew what was up because he came with a major (hunter's knife). The moment Jakofu came, we moved to where the Zebra's carcass was and started to quickly divide up the meat. 

I even got a gunia to carry the meat in. I thought to myself, today at Mama Njoki's place there will be an invigorating aroma that will make people's mouths water. I also knew that my hands would be fortunate to caress some notes and coins for my thoughtfulness. 

The day was promising to be a success. Jakofu helped me to load my luggage onto the bike, and I left. Alas! I had no clue Satan was there with me the entire time plotting. I had a car horn blaring behind me. I had no side mirror so I had to look back. 

I was surprised, then shocked, plus the fear that overcame me when I saw and I found out that it was a K.W.S Land cruiser, was enormous. Before I could even react, I felt a whip whiz past and embrace my upper back. 

The way I coiled and recoiled my back in indescribable pain caused me to lose control, and because the luggage I carried was heavy, I found myself falling embracing the dusty earth. I heard from the Cruiser,

“Leta huyo poacher hapa!”

My brother, my sister, dear readers,  the way that whip kept landing on my back nonstop for like a minute or two until I became a bit numb. The K.W.S guys asked me, 

“kijana, mbona unaua rasilimali?”

I answered,

“ni njaa.”

Big mistake. The guys asked me how many kilos of meat I could eat, and without knowing I answered five. They then proceeded to give me a dagger and instructed me to cut a nice juicy chunk of meat which is fatty. I carved out a big piece of steak with the dagger, fatty and juicy, about 5 or 6 kilos there. 

All this time, I have no clue what awaits me. I thought perhaps I was going to carry it for takeaway until one of the guys brandished his rifle, shot in the air, and placed the hot muzzle on my ear. I farted and almost shit on myself. A command bellowed out,

“Kijana,

tumekupatia 5 minutes

ukule hio nyama 

ama ukufe!”

My brothers, my sisters, the way I devoured that meat through and through like a meat mincer. You would have seen me as one of the zombies in The Walking Dead feasting upon unlucky fresh prey, lips all red like a Masai Moran's head.

If you ask me how I finished the meat, I would not know. The pain of uncountable whips (nyahunyos) that caressed my back repeatedly as I ran for dear life. After running a safe distance where the whips couldn't lap my back anymore like a thirsty dog to a stream of water, I felt a bullet whizz past my ear. 

I left Wepukhulu's bike behind, and the K.W.S guys carried it away as an exhibit. When I reached the gate to where I stayed, I started feeling dizzy. Let the floodgates open, let me start vomiting uncontrollably like a pregnant woman with a bad case of morning sickness. 

It was by sheer luck, I did not vomit my internal organs out. Guys, that was my last day with meat. By the way, I heard that Mama Njoki got married to a K.W.S. guy.