Celebrating East African Writing!
It was a Monday afternoon in the city of Nairobi. Muthwiri was busy wracking his head trying to figure out a solution to his problem. His mind was roaming to and fro. He couldn’t think straight. No wonder Oscar Wilde said, “An improper mind is a perpetual feast.” If only he had controlled himself.
Three months ago while Muthwiri was at his duty post, a young girl, Aziza, who was barely 16 years old came passing by hawking bananas. Muthwiri called her and cracked some jokes which she laughed at. He bought a few bananas and she left, giggling.
Gradually, Muthwiri was able to lure a naïve Aziza into his room at the security post and they had sex. With Aziza, a brief moment of passion – when Muthwiri touches her breasts – makes her forget every other thing including the bananas. From then onwards, sex with Muthwiri became a routine.
Three months after they had met, Aziza came to Muthwiri, informing him that she was pregnant.
“Kwenda! Fala sana! And you want me to believe I am responsible?” Muthwiri barked.
Aziza looked at him with tears in her eyes, “Lailahaillalahu. Kwanini Muthwiri? Kwanini? You want to deny me? Subahanallahi. Subahanallahi.” She broke down weeping.
Muthwiri stood with his arms akimbo, staring at weeping Aziza. His mind was racing. There was no need denying; the pregnancy was his. He petted her and asked her to come back the following day. If Aziza’s aunt gets to know about it, it could mean the end of his job and it could also jeopardize his marriage. Delay is dangerous, he thought. Yes! Abortion was the only solution. But he had no money and salary was still two weeks away. He called his friend Nyakeri telling him he wants to sell his Sharp television. They agreed to meet at the junction.
Muthwiri arrived at the junction with the television and all he had in his pocket was twenty bob. He bought a stick of cigarette from a nearby trader and smoked absentmindedly. The remaining fifteen bob he gave to a corn seller and requested for a piece. He was hungry.
He dialed Nyakeri’s number again, “Uko api?”
Nyakeri told him the person that wanted to buy the television said he wants LG product and not Sharp.
“It’s a good TV for God’s sake and I’m already at the junction with it!” Muthwiri complained.
“Hey, your corn is ready,” the corn seller announced.
Muthwiri turned to tell the man to give him a second. Alas! There was Aziza’s aunt standing. His heart beat skipped for a moment.
He resumed talking to Nyakeri, “Just kuja tafadali. There’s a problem… Hello? Hello?”
His credit had finished; the television had no receipt, and there was a Corp approaching. He stood completely restless and helpless, cursing.
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