Wow! Tim, see
that nice ass passing, nice baby, see how she is shaking it as she moves, wow,
these women will be the end of us!” Abdalla told Tim as they stood at a bus
stop close to a mosque opposite Kongowea market. It was around 6 pm. Tim had
just closed his second-hand clothes shop and was on his way home. He was too
famished to care about anything else as he had not made any substantial amount
of money that particular day.
Abdalla
continued to ogle at the shapely girl who was passing by them and the moment he
noticed Tim was not looking at the direction that he was looking, he slapped
him.
“Idiot! Why did
you slap me? To just look at a woman’s ass? There are more important things in
this world than ogling at women’s asses.” Tim told Abdalla. He was too hungry
to care about whatever Abdalla was telling him.
“This is not
just a woman, this is a woman who was created when Allah had just woken up and
had fresh mind. He shaped those curves personally, just look at that lady, come
on! Man! Stop being blind!” Abdalla insisted, talking so loudly with his
perfect Swahili accent making the onlookers around him turn around to see at
the young man who was praising a lady’s figure attracting attention of
everyone.
“Abdalla,
didn’t I tell you to stop using drugs? You are seeing your own things, the lady
you are pointing at isn’t even shapely at all, or what am I not seeing?” Tim
asked Abdalla. Abdalla suddenly held Tim by his right hand.
“Follow me, we
can as well go to Bombolulu on foot, the angel is hidden from view by that
Mtwapa Matatu, she is walking slowly ahead of it. Besides, with this traffic
jam, we did rather walk.” Abdalla told Tim.
Tim saw the
point in Abdalla and they decided to walk.
A lady who was
walking in front of them, around 50 meters ahead caught Tim’s attention. She
was walking in the company of two other ladies. She was wearing a loosely
hanging dress but that did not stop her curves from being perfectly visible.
Her butt was shaking with each step she took. She had nice thick ass, thick
legs and was wearing some worn out sandals. Her hair was a bit rough and
unkempt.
“Wow!” it was
Tim’s turn to wonder and admire the lady who had caught Abdalla’s all
attention.
“Told you man! You
rarely see such a nice ass… see how she is shaking it… each step is like,
Nairobi, Mombasa, Nairobi, Mombasa, Nairobi, Mombasa…” Abdalla was matching the
two big cities names with each of her walking steps, completely mesmerized by
her beauty.
He did not even
realize when he walked right behind a Swahili’s behind knocking her from
behind. The Swahili lady turned furiously and cursed Abdalla loudly, “Hey, you
damned wild cat, can’t you look where you are going?” (Wewe paka mwehu, huwezi
angalia kwenye unaenda?)
“Oh! So sorry,
I am sorry, I was…” Abdalla was still talking when the Swahili woman clicked
her mouth loudly and walked away without waiting for the apology.
“I told you to
stop taking drugs.” Tim told Abdalla.
“I no longer
take drugs, nowadays I am taking milk instead of buying drugs.” Abdalla told
Tim while looking around.
“Hey, where did
the lady we were looking at go?” Tim asked Abdalla still looking around as they
tried to walk faster.
“That woman
distracted us, she is gone. We will have to search for her.” Abdalla told Tim
as they walked faster. Suddenly, a Matatu hooted from behind them. They jumped
from the road as the Matatu missed them by inches.
“You, silly
cunt, can’t you drive carefully?”(Wewe, Kumanina wewe, huwezi endesha gari
vizuri) Abdalla cursed as the driver went
on hooting making other people jump off the road, actually it was at the side
of the road he was driving, overlapping other vehicles trying to beat the rush
hour and make more money in the evening.
“No need to
curse him, he won’t hear you.” Tim told Abdalla noting at how angry Abdalla
was. In Tim’s mind, all he was thinking was how he would go and sweet talk Mama
Halima to give him some food on credit, at least 2 chapatis and beans with
coconut for the evening. He had not sold any cloth that day and thus had no
money with him at all.
“Abdalla, I
don’t know what to eat this evening. I have not sold anything.” Tim suddenly
told Abdalla. Abdalla came from a well of family but due to having involved
himself with drugs, he dropped out of school and was roaming in the
neighborhood sometimes pick pocketing from unsuspecting people.
“Ah! You should
have told me early my friend, if it is food that you just need, follow me, I
will show you where to eat until you are full.” Abdalla told Tim, suddenly
turning at around VOK to head towards Kisauni.
“Where are you
taking me?” Tim asked Abdalla.
“To eat, I have
a friend of mine who will never deny me food whether I have money or not. Just
come and see for yourself.” Abdalla told Tim. Tim had no choice than to follow
Abdalla towards the interior of VOK to some places he had never walked through.
They came to a small road side café which was so full of people noisily
ordering their food. Most were low class people who came to eat cheap food at
the food kiosk.
The owner
instantly recognized Abdalla.
“Hey, Abdalla,
what brings you here this evening?” The man asked Abdalla. He was seated at a
make shift counter taking money from the people eating a few seriously
overworked waiters struggle with the noisy customers some cursing and
complaining they were being served slowly.
“I want some
food, I have a friend too.” Abdalla told the food kiosk owner, whose name was Mwakazi
Nyoka.
“All right, get
seated and your usual food will be brought to you.” Mwakazi told Abdalla. It
was becoming apparent to Tim that Abdalla frequented that hotel from time to
time.
Within minutes,
they were served with 2 chapatis each and some beans.
“He has to give
me food every time I want because I talked to the Wakali Kwanza to stop
harassing him whenever he is going home late.” Abdalla told Tim as he got
munching one chapati hungrily like a hyena.
“Do you know
them? The Wakali Kwanza?” Tim asked Abdalla surprised at how Abdalla mentioned
the dangerous local gang with ease.
“No, I just
know some of the few who belong to the outfit. I just told them to mark Mwakazi
and stop stealing from him. The thing is, if these young idlers know you, they
will spare you but most steal from people they know.” Abdalla revealed to Tim.
Tim was too
hungry to follow the conversation. After Abdalla ate his one chapati, he
noticed that Tim had finished his two chapatis.
“Hey, have this
one of mine, I don’t feel that hungry. I guess I got so satisfied watching at
that nice ass which we saw until I am no longer hungry, hahaha, Tim you should
hunt that ass, it suits you best.” Abdalla said loudly attracting attention of
some people who were eating while discussing various topics of life.
“Why can’t you
pursue her?” Tim asked Abdalla. Abdalla looked at Tim. There was some sadness
in his eyes.
“I cannot tell
you for now, but I am not interested in women. I just admire beautiful women
but not to have sex with them. If you can, win her. I will help you find the
girl if I must.” Abdalla told Tim. To the amusement of some men who were
listening to them.
“We even don’t
know where she comes from…” Tim protested.
“That is easy,
I will describe her to my friends and within a few days we will know even the very
bed she sleeps on.” Abdalla told Tim sounding so confident about himself.
“Tell me how
you will do it…” Tim pressed on.
Abdalla looked
around as if to be sure no one was listening to them. It was obvious he was not
comfortable telling Tim the details inside that hotel. Abdalla suddenly stood
up and walked towards the door, leaving Tim stranded on the table they were
seated at.
“Hey, are you
going to eat forever, come on! Let us get moving.” Abdalla told Tim.
“I have not
finished eating.” Tim protested.
“Stop eating
like a woman, swallow the whole if it if you have to, eh! What is this you are
eating for one hour?” Abdalla asked Tim and began walking away. Tim did not
want to be left in that section of the estate which he was not so familiar to.
So, he had to abandon the remaining beans on the table and follow Abdalla.
After he got
satisfied, he really began to think about the strange girl who mesmerized them
with her shapely body. Tim and Abdalla walked alongside the road full of
potholes as motorbikes kept passing them on the dusty road from time to time.
“You were
telling me something…” Tim reminded Abdalla.
“I think I need
a shot, I don’t feel all right.” Abdalla told Tim. He was missing his drugs
which he was struggling to overcome their addiction.
“You said your
new year resolution was to stop taking drugs completely.” Tim reminded Abdalla.
Abdalla did not say anything.
“These members
of Wakali Kwanza know so many people who live in these neighborhoods, I will
get a few of their boys, describe the mysterious girl to them and within days
we shall know where she lives.” Abdalla told Tim. Tim was not so comfortable to
be assisted by a gang of ruffians to search for a girl, but he had no better
option.
They walked all
the way to Bombolulu while discussing the girl they saw. The way Abdalla was
describing her, you would think he had seen an angel.
“Lo! When I see
a woman’s behind that is as nice as that girls, makes me wish I had love charms
to win over all beautiful women in Mombasa.” Abdalla kept on telling Tim,
“But, amongst
you Swahilis are the most beautiful women, why can’t you pick one of them and
make her your own?” Tim asked Abdalla.
“These women
come with a lot of expenses. The moment they realized they are very beautiful,
they made themselves only available to monied men. In fact, I once had a
Swahili lady, with a huge ass I could sit on comfortably as she stood up, thigh
like a thigh (Paja kama paja mwanangu), {Abdalla was making motions to indicate
how big the thigh was}, with nice bosom on her chest. But lo! The moment some
rich guy from Tanzania showed her money, I was thrown outside like a dog. I
used to lick her even her own legs, even the very ground she walked on, I would
lick with my own tongue, but she still did not see that as anything and
eventually left me. That is what made me this crazy. I still wish I would win
her back but people tell me they moved to Dar-es-salaam and she lives like a
celeb there. Tim, money is sweet, if you have it. No woman will turn you down.”
Abdalla told Timothy. Tim wondered, if money was everything, how was the
mystery girl going to accept him with his state of poverty, living in a tiny
room worth Kshs 1,800 per month rent, living in a dirty neighborhood which he
was even ashamed of?
Life was so
unfair to him. He knew he had to work hard to make it in life. But working hard
was not as rewarding as he had thought.
“I am trying to
raise capital to begin my own second-hand clothes business. But life is so
difficult. Sometimes you spend entire days without making even a single sale.
You literally beg customers to buy from you but none buys. I am thinking of
going to a mganga to seek charms to attract customers.” Tim told Abdalla.
“Oh! No, don’t
think about that brother, you will get a lot of money but with a lot of problems.
The devil does not have any free money to give around. It always comes at a
price. Work hard my brother, you would rather earn little and live in peace,
than have all the money in the world but have demons and jinis hunting you all
days, sometimes sucking your own blood at night or worse, making your family
members sick all the time. My brother, better little with happiness than a lot
with misery. Even prophet Mohammed, PBUH, says we should seek money the right
ways, I am sure even your religion talks about it too.” Abdalla told Timothy.
“Yes, Jesus,
who you people call Isa, talks about money too. But my brother, for how long
are we going to be poor? Just see, a man like me, I do not have even a smart phone
in this digital age. People are talking of whatsapp, Instagram and others but
my little phone can only make calls, and wake me up in the morning through an
alarm which sometimes also fails. If God is fair, why won’t he distribute his
wealth equally amongst us? But see, some people can afford these nice cars,
“Timothy pointed at a Probox that was passing by the road. Its occupant however
thought the young man was greeting him and waved back, driving towards away
slowly. To Tim, even Probox was a nice car.
“You call that
shell a car? My uncle drives a land cruiser. He has businesses spanning all the
way from Kenya to Dubai.” Abdalla told Tim, motioning with his hands as if to
indicate how big the business empire was.
“And why don’t
you tell him to connect you to one of his businesses?” Tim asked Abdalla.
>>To be
continued>>
Narrated by Anthony
KERRY.
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