First Body

I have been a lazy writer, coming up with one article in a year. I've been busy, No! That's just an excuse. What have I been doing? This year I'll be more proactive, I promise.

I was heading home on one of those working evenings where I just had a nice day, I've accomplished my days' goals and met my employer's targets. I'm proud of myself. I could pat myself on the back or walk out of the office with the John Cena sound track. "You can't see me my time is now". While doing that thing he does with his hand, waggle on his face and bouncing as he walks out of the wrestle ring after beating Randy Orton down and won the WWE heavy weight championship.

So I had just alighted from a Super Metro along Thika road. There I am minding my own business walking majestically like I own the sidewalk. I suddenly notice this guy trying to catch up with me. He was bigger in body size than I am, full of beards like some Arab sheikh. He was bald and shiny headed the sun's reflection could blind you from his head if he stood between you and the setting evening sun.

He was carrying a guitar bag or guitar case I know because it made the shape of a guitar like the one Vance Joy carries in his song 'Missing piece'. I'm assuming it was a guitar because of the case, but whether he was a drug traffickers pausing as a musician I don't know. So I think to myself am I about to be mugged? Ama he wants to sell me the contents in his bag?

So now I'm increasing my pace I don't want him to catch up with me. I'm not comfortable, it's a free country I need my personal square space of one feet in all directions. He is also increasing his pace and now is almost Jogging. I'm not going to run just to get away from this fella. So I slow down to let him catch his flight to wherever destination he's headed. He stops right at my back and pats me on the right shoulder. I'm prepared for anything thing at this juncture.

I did a quick math in my head prior to his pat and I was worth at least 12 grands. Depending on the weapon he has and maybe the backup that he has, I'm not going down without a fight. By the way, have ever been mugged? I have never been mugged but I believe it must be traumatizing.

So I turn to look back making a fist with my right hand just Incase. I was a scout back in school and the scouts motto was "Be prepared". It's about to go down..

He calls me by my second name. Immediately, I take a deep breath, my dear life was depending on it. I release my fist and now in my mind am wondering where does he know me from? I haven't been using my second name ever since I was in primary school. So this guy must know me from those days. I wear my courage back on, I don't want him to know he gave me a fright for a second there. I manned up.

On a second glance I thought he looked familiar and gave him that stare; the one you give someone "like where do I know you from?". I think I need to reduce my sugar and whiskey consumption, they are messing with my memory. His name was Gitau, no Githinji, no Goru, it started with a G. I know he's not going to read this article so he'll not be offended that I forgot his name again. But if he does my sincere apologies buddy.

He remembers me by name and told me I am one of those faces that he recalls vividly from childhood. All what I am writing here was news to me about me.

For the love of God, how do you expect me to remember eons ago surely? We were in pre-school together and considering the fright I had given everyone in my class, my guy told me he never forgot me. I honestly don't remember a thing from those days. According to him I was the "first body" in our class and the stream. I looked it up and it's not even an English word. But we used it then to mean "the unbeatable". I found it funny and felt sorry for those poor kids at same time. I have dealt with bully's in primary (junior) school. They could hardly get to me with their insults and threats to beat me up at 4:10 during home time. We used to call it (one-ten); in our silly minds that was our mispronunciation for wanted.

Imagine being frightened by someone so much that you still remember them years later? From what my guy told me as we stood by the road side, he hated pre-school and would curse every morning as his mom brought him to school and dropped him off for the fear of meeting me. I feel bad writing this. I can't recall a single thing.

I wanted to hear more of these sad and yet funny stories that I didn't know about me, I asked him whether he was in hurry? He was heading home as I was.

I opted for us to have drinks at a bar that I frequent with a couple of buddy's, "mbogi" as they call themselves. The waitress Peninah knows me, as we walked in she was sited by the counter. She's friendly, polite she's not your usual bartender. Something about her is different i can't quite point it out but she is. You know how "makangas" are usually rude and ready to give you the answer of your life? But I think it comes with the job, it must be hard to deal with all passengers and still be soft. People are frustrated and bitter with their lives, even the Jubilee administration after we sang "tano tena" is not giving us a break. She doesn't have that.

She gave me a refreshing smile when she saw us walking in, I waved at her as we proceeded to a table. I like sitting by the balcony facing Thika road. There is a cool breeze that blows in and you enjoy the view of Kilimambogo, and the busy traffic, there's always a chance you'll spot a rare car pass by. She came up to our table greeted us and we had a chance to catch up on some small talks. We made our orders, my buddy ordered a cold Guinness. I didn't want a strong drink "my usual" since it was on a weekday, I ordered a cold White Cup; of course. It would be an insult to my ancestors to offer them a warm beer. I was taught that immediately you open your bottle of booze, you are supposed to pour a little, swivel the drink in your glass then bless your ancestors by pouring on the ground. Who taught me that? I don't remember a sitting where I was taught that. "Haiya eeh!"

Whenever I open a beer and the gas escapes through the bottle top producing that ka "tssss" sound what is it called? And the bubbles start rising from the bottom of the bottle, somehow my mouth becomes watery. And the scent of barley, damn! The drinks come in pairs. What was lacking on our table was some Mbuzi choma. It was an impromptu expense, I asked my guy if we can split the bill for the choma then I'd cover the drinks.

Now we are settled my guy is using up two sits, one for his guitar case. He's now telling me how terrified he was of me during those days. I remember bits and pieces. Am sitting there and wondering why would those kids be so terrified of me? I remember using the hand of my sweater to wipe my nose and I would be left with a Nike symbol on the side of my face. I remember I was scared of dogs with good reason story for another day.

We had a good time, we caught up on life, I asked him if he is a musician. I mean why do you carry a guitar? He is a background singer for one of our popular mugithi artists. And is dreaming of becoming his own performer someday. He even invited me to one of their events entry fee on him. We exchanged contacts and went our separate ways. Ooh! His name is Ganjo.

As I am walking home am thinking of my kids, will they become bullies too? If they do I swear I'll blame that on their mom. I'm not going to take responsibility. As the bible says in the book of Proverbs "A wise son brings joy to his father, but a foolish son grief to his mother."

That is it guys for this one. Kindly remember to press the like button if you like it. Leave a comment, and subscribe. Thank you!