INSECURE

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                 As I am writing this naskia masikio inakuwa moto ju ya hasira. Self control inashikiliwa na just a thread, nisikute that individual na panga niifanye shwaa shwaa shwaa, ka Samurai Jack. Najua mnashangaa mbona your storyteller amejaa ngori hivi, a certain individual, tuliagree nimpigie ma one two, nikatimiza, sasa kumpigia naskia mteja wa nambari uliyopiga hapatikani kwa sasa!   I'm livid, nashangaa rada hapa ni gani? In my mind, najaribu kuangalia mbona the individual yuko mteja from all perceptives, labda simu imezima, or imepotea, or pahali yuko hakuna network ndio call haingii, lakini the funny thing is there's a voice at the back of my head going hapanaaa! hapanaaa! hapanaa!  Anyway, I give the individual time, perhaps they will get back to me, explain to me why my calls to them were not going through you know? Naenda napiga shughuli mbili tatu, try to keep my mind occupied. Kuna this fear in another part o...
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Hawkers jameni II

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I looked at Mohawk and asked him if he wanted one. He nodded. I told the hawker I would take two at Kes 100. The bus was on its last bump as the hawker reluctantly agreed and took the money. I gave Mohawk one stick as I tried to figure out how to start chewing the toothbrush. 




The stick had a thick bark that I tried peeling off but I soon realized I might be doing it wrong. Mohawk had already started chewing on his, so I just followed suit. He looked at the TV and asked,

“What happened to the TV?”


“It fell and the screen cracked,”


“Pole, 

I know an electronics fundi along Luthuli Avenue. 

A very 

trustworthy fellow 

I could hook you up if you are interested.”


“That is exactly what I need, 

would you mind taking me to him?”


“No problem buddy.”


We chewed and brushed while making small talk like old pals until the bus reached its destination at the Odeon cinema about an hour later. We alighted as I carried the TV with the screen resting on my tummy while I held it by the slots at its base. Mohawk told me he was thirsty and went to buy drinking water in the small shop and fast food joint famous for their 30/= chips 

(although the price is now 100/=). 

I waited outside (what used to be) Aviation College while still chewing. Several people looked at me some smiled while others nodded. I thought they admired my toothbrush stick the T.V. my legs or my biceps. Mohawk walked out and we proceeded along Tom Mboya Street towards Luthuli Avenue.


“Unabeba TV na mikono mitatu!” 


Shouted one conductor hanging from the door frame of a Githurai bus as it sped past. This TV and I were drawing too much attention. I said to myself, feeling proud that perhaps they liked the huge TV back or perhaps my biceps made my hands appear like I had an extra set of hands.

As we walked past Tuskys (Daima) supermarket onto Accra road, a city council askari (kanjo) approached us and told me to check my shorts. After the askari went away, Mohawk whispered to me that the askaris are known for harassing pedestrians who carried electronics without proof of ownership or source. 

I nodded and walked right on, thinking he was trying to hustle us. There is a Wahindi's shop, on Tom Mboya Street, after crossing Accra road, I don’t know what it sells. 




The shop has a huge display with reflective glass that also serves as a mirror to the passers-by. I looked into the mirror, admiring my sexy legs and flexed biceps. 

I was admiring my ass,

Then I saw it!

 

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