Mteja 2

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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...
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Take me back.

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              A couple of months back, nilikuwa nimeenda place fulani shughuli na one of my boyz, Tommy, tulikuwa Whistling Moran I think. Tulifika mapema, tumetulia tunangoja tu clients wafike. I always arrive early for business, a skill I unknowingly picked up from my old man. Tommy alikuwa anataka kushika one or two beers to kill time before clients wafike, lakini nikamsho zii, business first, atashika a couple of beers after tumemalizana na clients. 


Tulikuwa tunataka tu kufine tune some details kwa contract fulani tulipata ya kuweka some serious coins in our pockets with the clients ndio tusichomeke. After they arrive, tunaanza kuiron out some details with the clients, it takes a while, going back and forth, and right before I reach my breaking point to snap and maybe flip the table on them like I have see it done in the movies, the clients compromises, and agree to some of the changes we want in the contract. 


Satisfied, we bid the clients goodbye as we are left there deliberating the next steps. Tommy beckons the waiter, orders a KO infused with Mukombero and a Sprite for me. One is I was the one behind the wheel that day, two, I don't drink anymore ilinichosha tu, three the last time tuliaminia someone drunk akuwe behind the wheel, kidogo tujipate in the belly of the Rift Valley mkikaribishwa Sayuni. 


Drinks zinafika, tuko hapo tukisip sip tukiongea about life and shit and venye hii contract iko almost at our grasp. 




Tommy laughs, naumuuliza what's up, then he decides to show me a pic, and I just find myself saying out loud, 


“Ayayaa!

Hii pic umepatana nayo wapi?”


Pic ni someone's daughter na mimi. Naona venye alikuwa mrembo na design nilikuwa nimempenda mbaya. Nacheka alafu naambia Boyz wangu venye nilikuwa nimepanga future na someone's daughter, many many moons ago, way before life inipige uppercut ya reality haamini. I don't blame him though, hio ilikuwa before mapenzi inioneshe shege, na nikuambie never again! 


(Story for another day.) 


Niko hapo nasikia a mix of feelings, one ni ile baddies hupenda kuisema sema, cringe, a bit of nostalgia, na ka regret kiasi. My phone vibrates, kuangalia napata ni Tommy amenitumia another pic imenitoa ka John Wick nikiwa in the middle of a fight. He’s like, 


“Souley, 

unakumbuka hii day? 

Design tuliguza guza watu kiasi, 

ju ya 

kuchokoza the love of your life 

back then?”

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