My Intro

I was lying down on my bed watching a spider deftly work its web at the top corner of my room. I used to brush these insects off my walls untill I heard a woman question how her friend of could sit with spiders in the house.

‘Gosh, imagine she can’t even pull out the webs in her house...so dirty! I even met a gecko...oh my Goodness, gosh!’ she told the radio host in a voice that barely hid her disdain for the said ‘friend’.

I might clear the spiders, but geckos no way. I love wild animals that decide to be domesticated(I am not quite sure whether a gecko is a wild or a domestic animal, the albino one). I looked at the gecko that was maybe also watching the spider and smiled. What is wrong with a gecko being in the house anyway? They help catch the flies, and the roaches I guess. Especially when you have a neighbour like Mama Shiro who keeps on throwing some live cockroaches outside after spraying intoxicating liquids in her house...they have to look for refuge and my door does not exactly touch the floor. There is a day she woke me up
with sudden wailing and yelling in her house and I rushed there thinking it was a homicide case. Well...,idle thoughts! What I want to write about is my visit to the Museum during Easter. (boring, huh?!)

Easter actually came when I was so broke. A whole Chief broke! Nya Seme does not like me saying that I am broke. ‘Chief Maneno is a learned fellow, a self-imposed chief and one with a future,’ she always consoles( maybe encourages) me. She has been on my case for a few years now, two or three, or maybe four. I do not know exactly how I would refer to her since she refused to be my girlfriend. She says she is tired with boyfriends, because of the ‘boy’ in there. ‘The day you will say, I wanna marry you, that same evening I will be in your house, with all my belongings. Boyfriend? Nah!’

So for four years, she has been waiting for me to tell her to marry me. And since she is not my girlfriend in the real sense of the word, I have no known privileges in her world apart from accompanying her to the bus-stop after a two minute visit.  And due to her obstinate mind, I found Kanini whose story I will divulge later, in a more relevant post since this is just an introductory one. But be sure that Kanini is the acme of beauty. Back to Easter and the museum...

I heard the announcement that the gates of all museums across The Republic would be open to the public during Good Friday. So I thought, why not go? Then I asked myself, why for free? I love The Republic and I am a Chief for heaven’s sake! Where is my patriotism? Does it not cost just 200 bob to get in there? And another 200 to get to the snake park? Last weekend, did I not spend 300 bob watching Man U, Arsenal, Chelsea etc(I spent 300 because I do not drink. But I do wine, red wine).

‘Nonsense,’ I said loudly to myself as I threw the blanket off and trudged to the door.
Well, I do not have to tell you how I brushed my teeth, twice, before and after taking tea or how I took a cold shower, do I? Neither do you have to know that I usually have a problem with choosing appropriate clothing for a function...well visiting the museum with Nya Seme is a special occasion I guess.

Anyway, as I fumbled with this and that shirt, the thing I feared most happened: the knock. I can tell when it is Kanini or Nya Seme, the latter normally accompanies her knock with an elongated ‘Hoodii’, and normally enters before I even respond. The former’s knock is a bit shy, as if my door is prickly, and unless I am quite alert, she could knock seven times and wait patiently for me to pull the door open for her: then she would smile(I might repeat this in another post, you now). She would take 5 seconds just looking at me, I have never known what she usually looks at, but that thing is definitely somewhere on my face.

Wa Shiro rarely knocks, she just shouts my name like, ‘Chief, uko? Mimi nishaigia na nirikuwa nauliza kama umemaliza kutumia jiko...’ I don’t know what she cooks on jiko in the morning. She also sits for several minutes until I remind her that she would be late with her cooking.

Ok, the knock. The door swung open and Nya Seme zoomed into the bedroom. She looked fabulous alright, the dark tanned skin, elevated hips balancing well on a not- so-slender waist(she reminds me of my granny’s black cooking clay-pot), now the breasts...I have no better words for description but her breasts make me literally see my pulse, and sometimes I can barely breath. She suffocates me with that body. But she is not even my girlfriend, and so far I have come to accept that fact, but I have barely moved on. I have planned for a long time to ask her to stop visiting me if there is nothing between us, but every time she appears, like today, I even forget whatever I was doing to take a deep breath first. Then I start thinking of something else, something I know she knows and seems to take pleasure in seeing me like that. (I felt my feet stepping on the shirt that I was holding when she entered, that is when I came back to myself).

Today, she remembered a peck, on my cheek, then she looked at me with those eyes that ask, ‘you never told me we are going anywhere today, its Easter for heaven’s sake’. Nya Seme also rarely dons skirts when she is coming over for her two minute visits – this day, she was wearing a greyish skirt that fondly hugged her, well, her…and slightly went below the knee when standing, and way above the thighs when sitting on my low bed, almost revealing Scandinavia. While I was looking for a better phrase to complement her beauty, another reckless knock followed by a shout.

‘Chief, leo unatumia jiko? Ingefaa niwekelee hii mbosho jana lakini nikasahau...’ It was 8.30 am. Nya Seme tried hard to muffle her laugh without much success. I bit my tongue. I was furious but I couldn’t help giggling too. What happened next is a story for another day...

Now, I should also tell you that Chief lives in a one-bedroom house in a leafy suburb. I am not sure of the constituency because I can’t tell whether we are in Nairobi or a neighbouring county. If you hop from one shop to the other, you will discover that one shopkeeper’s license is issued by a council different from his neighbour’s. I also have some really nerve-racking relatives who arrive from upcountry early in the morning without calling first. They say I am a very philanthropic person, a great complement, but I detest their frequent visits – no wonder Easter got me real broke, and I was lucky none of them turned up, for the first time.

Since it is difficult to complete my intro in a single piece, I beg to be introducing myself every now and then in subsequent writings...I have discovered it is a tough task and I am now looking for an editor to help me on how to do it. Like any other politician and administrator, let me stop here good constituents of Chief Maneno’s Fiefdom. For complaints and compliments, just write down there...and do not leave any signs that might help track you down.