Why Men, Why?

It’s six o’clock in the evening. Our meeting has just ended; which literally lasted EIGHT hours! Why though? Well, I understand “there were so many issues to discuss and finalize on” as the bigboss man would put it.

I rush to my desk to complete a task that I had started in the morning whose artwork I kept on promising the client that I would share in a short while. Patience is a virtue but in the creative Industry you can easily lose the client save for having a working relationship.

At seven o’clock, I’m in a bus to the city center. My final destination being Everest, a few kilometers from Birika, the only center I know that is before the Isinya junction.

If I get to Kiserian after 9 O’clock at night. There is a possibility of missing a ride to my hacienda. I get to the city centre, walk to the Rongai Matatu by 7:30 PM as shown on my watch which was a gift from a valued. I pray that people fill up the Matatu for the driver to do his thing. “Afanye ile kitu” and at exactly 8 O’clock the Matatu driver ignites the engine. The journey to Rongai begins and for sure the driver does ‘that thing’, the thing that traffic policemen do not condone. Overlapping from whichever side. As long as he is moving, I am a happy man. Soon, we arrive at the “exciting” stage 16 minutes to 9pm.

My hopes for getting to Kiserian on time are dwindling. Well, this “Nganya”, Nissan driver looks like he can deliver his clients to Kiserian safely and on time.

Unfortunately, I get to Keserian 19 minutes past 9pm, which is past the time we expect to get transport home. Luckily, I board a small Matatu, the last one heading towards Kajiado. I am the second passenger. I choose to sit with the driver at the front and that's when I meet this damsel. Well, at least that is what I thought.

She asks “kwani wewe ni teacher?” I wondered aloud why anyone would say that? Her response makes me smile “ume vaa suti”.

“these are just clothes that anyone can don” I retort. The conversation gravitates towards why we were late to arrive at the bus stop and the worry of when the matatu will fill so that we can be ferried home.

She shakes her head in distress. “Not a single passenger is in the vicinity”. The driver is wondering on whether to start the journey or not?

Why are you shaking your head? “Afadhali nitoke nitembe hadi Birika” she responds. I look at this lady and ask what are you saying. It’s 10 O’clock, how can you walk late at night? “Niki tembea stress itaisha.” “Stress? Stress kwanini?” I ask.

“Mwanaume, mwanaume fulani ame nikosea saana, saana.” I ask “What has this man done?” She narrates of how she was befriended by a man who acted as a real gentleman. Did house chores and everything that a woman would want in a gentleman.

Flora, not her real name narrates how she ran a business at Kiserian which sustained their life, as simple as it may look. Then the “Mwanaume” decided that it would be a great idea to get a baby. “Well, if God granted us one, we would really appreciate it” is what the ‘Mwanaume’ said.

Later on, Flora conceived. Then soon, things started going south. The first trimester, as they say, wasn’t easy. ‘Mwanaume’ didn’t understand and actually thought that this “woman” was just pretending and didn’t want to go to work at her shop! Flora narrated.

“He started slowly by slapping me, then it gravitated to punching then kicking then finally slapping, punching, and kicking all together.” The lady says “ilifika mahali akaanza kunichapa na chochote kilichikuwa mbele yake.”

She never knew what to do and so stayed hoping for the best. The beatings persisted and as she put it “mimba ika mwagika.” She miscarried.

Weird enough the beatings slowly stopped and love was tangible once again when the lady resumed working in her shop. She tells me “Nili fanya ile kitu” for my man to get a job. She paid someone for his hubby to get employment as a truck driver though he didn’t even pass the interview. As she states “pesa... pesa iko na sauti.” Her hard-earned cash was able to secure a job for him. After a few months, he was one of the most preferred drivers in the construction firms in Kiserian.

Flora conceived again, this time the man thinking of himself as greater. “Ali anza ile tabia yake.”

“What?” I exclaimed!

“Eeeeh, kidogo kidogo tu kunigonga hapa na pale.”she intimated.

Then Flora couldn’t sustain this clobbering, not as a daily routine. This time she sought refuge at her mother’s place early. This ensured safety during the pregnancy including clinic visits, balanced diet, sound mind, and good company. Never even a single moment did the ‘Mwanaume’ visit the mother of their conceived child. Not even a single call to check out how the come-we-stay wife was fairing.

After nine months God enabled a safe delivery. To put it in her words “Mungu alitusaidia nka pata mtoto bila shida yeyote.

Flora went back home with her bundle of joy. Since she wasn’t able to open her shop, finances at home with ‘Mwanaume’ dwindled. Flora’s contribution in the “come we stay” marriage started to be felt. According to her they never took tea without milk. And even if they did, lack of sugar in that house was unheard of. She had never in her entire life begged neighbors to give small foodstuffs like salt or even flour to prepare a meal at home.

‘Mwanaume’ wasn’t happy. The wages he amasses are supposed to be shared with “me, myself and I” as he would put it in his local dialect paraphrased to read “hii pesa ni yangu,mimi na nafsi yangu.” If the lady tries to complain or even dared open her mouth asking for food both her and ‘Mwanaume’, she was met with a right hook. “Alinigonga ngumi ya mdomo mara kadha kwa sababu ya ku itisha pesa ya chakula.”

Flara, went as far as begging from neighbors for them to have a meal. At least a hot meal. According to her, lactating mothers require food, and hot meals which gave her the energy to carry on.

When the neighbors failed to come through, she resorted back to ‘Mwanaume.’ One evening she had no one in mind who could lend her money for the couple to eat. She had to borrow money for their food. “Si aki unikopeshe mia mbili tu nunue chakula?” ‘Mwanaume’ had one condition “ Uta rudi kesho?”

Flora submitted to the condition knowing pretty well that a certain neighbor was to pay her a long-standing debt the next day. By this time, she had started a charcoal-selling business when the baby was just FIVE months old. She took the Kes. 200/- went to the shop bought what the money could get, went home and prepared a hot meal. ‘Kagitheri’ as she would describe it. A mixture of maize and beans boiled together, then fried with carrots and potatoes Just as ‘Mwanaume’ loved it.

“Aki hio usiku kulikuwa na amani na furaha. Siku mingi saana zime pita tangu ‘Mwanaume’ aonyeshe furaha nyumbani.” Flora said.

Morning came and all was well. Everyone did their chores as usual and ‘Mwanaume’ left for work. The day went well save for the fact that the neighbor who had promised to pay her debt on that day said that she was unable to raise the whole amount.

At the bus stop, Flora and I noticed that people had started boarding the matatu, most of whom were heading in our general direction. This was a plus for both of us since we had been waiting for more than 47 minutes. I was conscious of the time since my kids were expecting fruits from me. I happened to buy some bananas from a lady whose husband hadn’t yet gone by to pick her up as she had been expecting him from 9:30 pm. It was pitch dark, not a single street light was working that particular day.

Flora’s voice suddenly saddened. As she continued to speak, she became a bit emotional. “Kwanini una zungumza ni kama una taka kulia?” I implored

She exclaimed, breathing deeply and then sighed! Then, holding on to her tears, she said in English “ I wish Mama Mbugua had paid.” Then immediately switched to sheng’. “Kama ange lipa deni, labda strory inge kuwa poa. If she had paid the debt, probably the outcome would have been different.” She repeated in perfect English you could tell that she was picking her words carefully. Maybe Flora wanted to please the teacher seated next to her. Remember the suit? Yes, that teacher.

Ashamed to ask why, I just murmured some inaudible words then exclaimed “aaah?” Flora said “yes” referring to me as Teacher. When ‘Mwanaume’ came back home in the evening, Flora had prepared his favorite meal again. Hot as it’s supposed to be, probably even sweeter. She used a local Maasai spice which according to her made the food tastier. She had even gone as far as serving the food together with some pishori rice that Mama Mbugua had decided to pay part of the debt with.

The first question after the door was joyfully opened was “pesa zangu? Wapi pesa zangu?“ Flora with the baby girl on her lap wondered and was tongue-tied. According to her, “akili yangu haikuwa ina kumbuka ile mia mbili.” Like a zombie she says, “I looked at ‘Mwanaume’ blank as a dead tilapia’s eyes.” Flora’s mind was wondering. She hadn’t noticed that ‘Mwanaume’ was a breath away from her. She looked at her baby girl then ‘Mwanaume’. Her hands automatically went into her pocket. The only amount of money she had between her and poverty was Kes. 127.50.

Some people hadn’t paid her and so she couldn’t raise the whole Kes. 200/-. “Nika kumbuka deni ya mama Mbugua.”

Flora, carefully placed the baby on the stool, moved the stool between the cupboard and the bed then dashed outside. It was around 7:15 pm, she was hysterical shouting “Mama Mbugua, mama Mbugua, mama Mbugua, aki nilipe deni.” The neighbor had her shouting from afar, opened her door and politely said, “Nilifikiria tuli kubaliana nitalipa kesho jioni. Na hata nika kupatia pishori.”

Flora, returned to her senses and walked home with a blank mind. “sikuwa na chochote cha kufikiria” She said. Panicked, and not knowing how this would pan out. “Nili jaribu ku omba, maneno hayaku tamkika.” The first thing she saw was the right palm of her “come we stay husband.” She says that “Mwanaume” shouted “PESA, leta pesa zangu.”

Flora realized that she only had Kes. 122/- minus a five-shilling coin which probably fell from her pocket as she ran out to mama Mbugua. Hand in her pocket she took the money and gave it to “Mwanaume”. He looked at it, made a mental calculation. It wasn’t enough to pay his debt. He threw up the monies, scattering the coins and tearing up the Kes. 50/- note.

“Mwanaume” was MAD. “Mzae alikuwa kama wazimu.”

“Hii ndio pesa nilikupea?”

Flora, didn’t even have time to respond? I thought it was a rhetorical question waiting for Flora to continue speaking but she stayed quiet.

Tears now visibly streaming down her cheeks. I inquired what happened afterwards? After a few seconds of breathing in and out, Flora said that the next thing she remembered was scampering on the floor, trying to find her balance while on all fours. She realized that blood was oozing from her mouth. Then she heard a loud bang’ “PAAAAAAAAAAAH” Flora shouted.

Everyone in the matatu wondered what was going on. A gentleman seated behind me asked whether everything was ok. Without turning I nodded in affirmation. At this moment, the driver was waiting for just one person for us to begin our journey. A tout was outside trying to convince a few passersby to get in. “Mtu mmoja tuondoke, mmoja pekee.”

After a long pause without saying a word, Flora turned head slowly, showing me a scar just beneath her temple. There were several others but she pointed close to the left side of her face. “Hapa ndo nili gongwa, si kumbuki nili lala pale chini dakika ngapi?”

When she regained her consciousness and stood up, “Mwanaume” started kicking and punching her again. Flora started wailing and shouting “majirani, majirani, majirani, wooooooooooii, ata tua.”

“Mwanaume” didn’t relent, he continued punching and kicking Flora as if preparing for a kickboxing title championship.

Mwanaume” who works in a construction firm was well built due to the nature of his occupation hence overpowering Flora each time she tried to hold him back. After a long while, mama Mbugua, pushed the door open, the neighbors streamed in, ladies heading towards mother and child, while the men went and held “Mwanaume.” He tried to wriggle himself off the clench of the men. He was halfway there. He threw a punch that got Mama Mbugua who hit the ground with a thud.

The men in the house acted on “Mwanaume” thoroughly. “Alipigwa na kila dume.” Flora stated

One man shouted, “una gonga bibi ya nani?” Well, couldn’t answer for the right powerful jab was supposed to land on Flora’s profusely bleeding nose. According to Flora “Mwanaume” calmed down and kept quiet. People tried to get to understand why the violence but as Flora would put it, everyone was trying to out-shout the other.

The local Pastor walked the mother and child out of the house. Talked to a neighbor with a taxi to take the mother and child to the hospital. Flora was really startled, she didn’t know how she got to the hospital 9 kilometers from their tiny house. Her mind wondered far. She says she was treated and given a place to sleep. She says the weird bit of all the scuffles is that the baby never cried, not a single sound.

Flora slept well, woke up the next morning went to a nurse to negotiate of how the bill would be paid. “Nili jua, sina kitu, lakini dada zangu wange come-through.

Luckily, her the bill had been taken care of by the local pastor. Flora smiled as she said, “Kumbe kuna WANAUME na wanaume.”

Flora went home via a “boda boda.” When she arrived, Flora packed her belongings. As she was just about to leave, the bedroom door burst open “Mwanaume” stood there, mumbling. She looked at “Mwanaume.” Then she noticed a woman behind him. Then another one and another one. The last two looked familiar.

Aaaaaah, Flora exclaimed, “ni wewe? Asante kwa kuja. Sasa ume kuja right on time kutoka juzi….“ before she could even finish her words “Mwanaume” slapped her straight on the face.

“Niliangukia mtoto kwa tumbo.” She said.

“Mwanaume’s” sister held her brother but didn’t reprimand his absurd behavior.

Flora started weeping loudly by now, the last passenger boarded the Matatu and immediately the driver started the engine. The noise of the roaring engine dispersed her sobbing. I tried in vain to comfort her. The driver was looking at us and the road at the same time, almost crushing into a stationary lorry. Tried to evade and flicked a “boda boda” rider sending her spiraling on the tarmac.

The driver stopped and looked at me exposing his terribly folded face. As he was about to get out, the rider had already dusted herself, speeding in the opposite direction. The driver and I literally started laughing, laughing at what had just happened. No one expected that outcome. Fellow riders had already gathered to defend on of their own. The driver pointed at an absent-minded police officer who didn’t even witness the incident.

Then I realized that Flora was in between sobbing and laughing. One couldn’t really tell which was which. She shouted quite loud that everyone in the matatu heard what she said. “WALI CHUKUWA MASICHANA WANGU, WALI CHUKUWA MTOTO WANGU.” Then she began sobbing again this time a lot louder!

Once again I tried comforting her to no avail. I made a short prayer and asked God to calm her down.

“Ni uchungu kupoteza mtoto. Lakini kupokonywa mtoto wa miezi tano…”

“TANO?” I interjected.

“Yes FIVE”, Flora shouted. “FIVE, FIVE, FIVE”, she was now becoming hysterical. The driver got into a petrol station at Delta a junction on the left from the Magadi road. Flora calmed down but kept whispering “five, five, five months imagine.” She repeated this severally as if possessed.

After filling up the tank the driver was ready to go. Flora said “open the door I want to walk to Emasho.” I declined.

“OPEN THE DOOR.” Other passengers told me to open the door.

“Kama anataka kushuka wacha a shuke, anatupotezea wakati na mda.” Boldly but politely I shouted “if this was your sister, wife or mother, what would you do?”

Everyone was silent. Flora looked at me in amazement. She couldn’t believe what I had just done. “Wewe ndo mwanaume wa kwanza kwa maisha yangu tangu utotoni kuni tetea.”

Flora relented her push of wanting to walk 16 kilometers from where we were. Emasho is quite far. Walking 16 kilometers was a joke, let alone at night.

Flora then whispered to me in English “ I have not seen my baby girl for 6 months.” I was visibly surprised.

“WANAUME, WANAUME” she shouted. Flora stated that “Mwanaume” left in the company of a lady and his two sisters never to be seen again. Flora made frantic efforts, trying to get in touch with “Mwanaume” together with his entire family, even on phone but each number she called blocked her after the very short conversation mostly lasting between five and ten seconds depending on how fast the message was conveyed. It was as if everyone from “Mwanaume’s” side was coached on how to respond.

“Mtoto hautawahi muona, usipige hii simu TENA sawa?”

Then the phone would go silent. If she tried to call again, “Samahani mteja wa nambari ulio piga hapatikani kwa sasa.

Day after day, weeks turned into months, five as Flora had stated she, hadn’t seen her pretty baby girl. “Hata kunyonya haku maliza. Nitafanya nini na hii maziwa” touching the left side of her chest. Flora said in English “my baby girl is exactly 10 months today. If only I could see her.”

By now I was just about to alight. I tried to engage further with Flora but she kept on repeating the statement “My baby girl is exactly 10 months today. If only I could see her.” Three times she repeated the same statement. I tapped the driver and told him that my destination was about 100 meters from where we were so he had to stop the vehicle for me to alight.

Unfortunately, I never asked Flora for her contact details or even her real name. As the matatu came to a standstill for I had to alight. I said “Una amini Mungu?” She nodded, “I will pray and ask God to ensure that you get to see your baby girl.”