Aligongewa na si mlango.

Denno was having one of those days where everything just seemed to flow.  He had hit the “Send” button on his final proposal a few days back and leaned back in his chair, stretching and yawning. He had just received an email confirmation that his proposal had been accepted. 

He couldn't believe it, he had just landed a big online gig that promised good money and a steady workflow for the next three months. As a freelancer, this was the equivalent of hitting a jackpot in his world. 

“Babe! 

Guess what!” 

he shouted towards the kitchen, where Stacy, his girlfriend, was busy preparing breakfast.

“What's up?” 

Stacy replied, glancing at him with a smile that could melt an ice cap. She was dressed in her corporate attire—a crisp white shirt and a pencil skirt—ready to head to her office job.

“I just secured that big contract I was telling you about! 

We’re eating good, 

for the next three months!” 

Denno grinned, showing his excitement.

“Wow, babe, 

that’s awesome!” 

Stacy said, her smile a little too polite, but Denno didn’t notice. She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks! 

We should celebrate tonight, 

maybe order some nyama choma 

and 

have a mini-party right here,” 

Denno suggested, already thinking about the feast.

“Actually, 

I might be home late today,” 

Stacy said as she picked up her purse and keys. 

“There’s this new project at work, 

and 

I’ll be a bit late, 

wrapping up a few things.”

Denno shrugged. 

“No worries, 

I’ll keep the party on hold. 

Go conquer the corporate world, 

CEO!”

Stacy laughed. 

“See you later, freelancer!” 

And with that, she was out the door. Denno's day went on smoothly, filled with emails, meetings, and bursts of creativity. It was not until around 6 PM that he decided to take a break, and text Stacy.

Hey babe, just checking in.

Miss you already.

He waited. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. No reply. He shrugged it off, thinking she must be busy. It wasn’t until 8 PM that a vague sense of worry started gnawing at him. Still no reply. He called her, and it went straight to voicemail.

“Sawa, maybe her phone died,” 

he thought, but deep down, something felt off. By 10 PM, Denno was pacing around the house like a lion in a cage. He tried calling again, and this time, the call connected.

“Hey, babe, I’ve been worried—”

“Denno, I’m in the middle of something,” 

Stacy’s voice was hurried, almost whispering.

“Middle of what? 

Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. 

Just… 

I’ll talk to you later, 

okay?” 

she said, hanging up before he could say anything else.

“What the hell was that?” 

Denno muttered to himself. But before he could dwell on it further, he got a notification on his phone. It was a text message—from Stacy.

Sorry, babe, I’m really busy. 

Don’t wait up for me. 

I’ll be home late.

He sighed, trying to shake off the unease, and decided to catch up on a TV show. By 11:30 PM, he was dozing off when he heard a notification ping on his phone again. 

It was a photo, from one of his boys, Jeff. The picture showed Stacy in a high-end club he knew too well, and right next to her, with his arm wrapped around her waist, was some dude in a sharp suit, grinning like he had just won the lottery or Sportpesa mega jackpot. 

Denno's heart sank. 

Anagongewa na si mlango!

“Bruh, uko aje?” 

Jeff's message read. 

“Si ukuje, 

uone your girl akijibamba na jamaa?”