My 500 ml vodka bottle was almost empty and despite my joke of a financial status, voices in my head told me that I could afford another. You see, to say that life was not going according to plan for yours truly is a bit of an understatement. Just three days ago I had received a retrenchment notice from work, which was a polite way of saying that they were sorry it had taken them so long to find a computer software made by a ten year old Chinese which could do my work. Another sip of the good stuff reminded me that moving back to my parents' after I had made a grandiose walk-out pledging never to return was not the best idea, especially since my father was a barbarian who would see me dig pit latrines through concrete floors to earn a roof over my head. To cap it all off, my girlfriend had taken a break from our relationship - I had not quite grasped the concept, but my friends had some not so pleasant reasons for it that I'd rather not share. Poof! The vodka was gone and I suddenly wished that I salivated liquor.
Anyway, I was at Club Moscow in the middle of the day to sell my month old sweetheart of a smartphone. It had proved an unnecessary luxury and the depreciation phones were succumbing to nowadays coupled with my untimely loss of income made it a bad investment. Apparently, other sections of the city found wastage of money to be quite the pastime as I had found a buyer on OLX to take the phone off my hands for almost its worth when brand new. The chap was quite nice, and had even texted apologies for lateness and proceeded to send me money to buy drinks for myself as I waited for him. Apologies for probably thinking that I had been hitherto spending my own money, your naivety is adorable. The early bird had certainly caught the warm and no sooner had I started toying with the idea of increasing damage to my liver than he showed up....
He was quite tall, of lean build and overly dark complexion...donning a slim fitting suit that made him look like someone who would not be laid off a mediocre government job in a million years. He had that natural smug look that comes with fiddling with car keys in a bar just when the cute bartender Mwende came to take his order. Despite his creepy mustache, I envied everything about him. His breathe stank of fresh, cold bottles of Heineken, - and I kid you not, this fellow was living the Kenyan dream.
Lawi (as he quickly introduced himself) betrayed the remote hole he had crept out of as his accent and oratory skills reminded me of the infamous "Teach me English" tags in primary schools used to fix such situations regardless of the public shaming. From what I gathered, his had been a fast rise to wealth and he owed his fortunes to something greater than merit without a doubt. How else would a person without a college degree own a new shape Toyota Premio that started at the push of a button? How else would someone who could hardly construct a proper sentence in English don what seemed to be designer raiment from head to toe? He was probably my age and quickly reminded me of the sense my father made in regretting spending a dime on school fees for a job he described as making tea in government offices. Anyway let me not delve into ironies of the failings of the current education system as well as the advantages of nepotism, witchcraft and human stupidity in modern times.
It was lunch time, he reckoned, and I deserved nyamachoma at the very least for deserting my work to deliver his phone. His referral of my formerly sweet phone (as I had deleted most things which endeared it to me for common decency) as his, probably made me less morose than assuming I was just another lucky bastard holding down a job in the cruel city of Nairobi. Skipping breakfast to make it in time for work had become a norm of mine but suddenly doing the name to save on my precious coins was threatening to send me to borderline starvation. It would explain why a silver tray serving of the most exquisite roast meat by a malnourished male butcher who gave me an envious glare made my eyes a bit watery.
Tell you what, drinking and making merry with this lad was far better than a night with my girlfriend when she had her usual 'headaches.' Quite like Kevo, intoxication was his truth syrup, only I enjoyed his stories more as lack of man boobs and a world of belly fat made for far less disgusting imagery. This was the man every boy in the slums of Kibera, suburbs of Buruburu and villages of Eldama-Ravine dreams of becoming, me included. He was a foreman, an assistant to a rich mogul in the city who derived all the niceties of working for a wealthy man who was too lazy to manage his own affairs. The job came with its perks - a car I'd get a vasectomy for, a rent free house I would gladly sell a kidney for and get this, a taste of the mzee's wife whenever he desired. Talk about managing the man's affairs! He proceeded to tell me how he and the lady of the house snuck around with none the wiser and engage in behavior only someone born of a virgin called Mary would pardon. At this point I took a huge gulp of the bitter vodka, chiefly because no amount of libation would wash away the envious breaking down in tears of a grown man in front of another man.
Having had enough of listening to the fairy tale life of a man who was in all aspects my better whilst going through hell in my life, I concluded the sale of the phone and asked to leave. "Stay a while longer man. Let the fool come along and buy us more drinks..sawa?..Waiter!" He called out at a volume that my wallet had never been authorized to. By now, you should know that I can resist a lot of temptations, but none that fizzles when it opens. Mwende came along with more beers, obviously confused as to how and why men always went out of their way to spoil me when drunk while treating her like trash. Quite the charmer I was. Yes. A jobless charmer who would soon be homeless and preaching on commuter buses for lunch money. God forbid!
I have always wondered why my life is full of theatrics, cliff hangers and despondency. Here I was, waiting for two people to get together and share their successes while my life was in shambles like a classic sucker. "Mzee!" Lawi stood up respectfully to welcome his boss. In a typical sheepish manner I stood up to this god-forsaken mzee that had no impact in my life whatsoever......or not!
"Kevo!" I blurted out, proceeding to give him the most thunderous handshake I had ever given a fellow human being before. Lawi just stood there, mouth agape, trembling like a twig in the winds of winter, trying to conjure up a miserable grin.
Well, well, well. Interesting... Small world.
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