The Bar Stool with Papa Whiskey

I undressed, mistook slay queen’s door for our bedroom

I confused the many doors of our majirani with our rooms and thought I had arrived at our bedroom

Alcohol has no teacher: I had not had supper and was hungry like 1000 street kids. I ordered takeaway choma which I ate from the car.

Drinking in these times of lockdown curfew is a sobering experience, mtu wangu. So, now si I slept at the cubicle of the watchie in the estate coz I couldn’t go home with makaro doing msako and I was bila face mask.

The following day, hata I had not even showered, and a phone call comes. It is the nagger, my bed mate whose ruracio I have not finished paying telling me “leo ulale kule ulilala jana!”

By now you know how I found myself at the gate with watchies. I was drinking inside the car at the parking lot but dozed off only to wake up at 9pm with cops leaning on the jalopy. It was after the 9pm curfew time. My bladder was bursting but getting out meant being arrested by the cop who swore to make Sh30, 000 from anyone without a mask after curfew.

I was saved by our jirani on fourth floor who was arrested staggering home but argued “mimi nakimbilia Kenya” as the cops chased after him towards our block.

I got a chance to slide out but ran towards the main gate. There, I borrowed uniform ya watchie and promised to sambazia them thao moja and later slept inside their cubicle.

Our daughter is by then holding her mum’s hand but staring at me like mimi ni baba wa mkate. “Give your girl mfupa iko na nyama!”

I had not had supper and was hungry like 1000 street kids. I ordered takeaway choma which I ate from the car. With enough stomach gabions, I continued drinking from where I had left but there was no peace. The nagger-in-chief would pass by and talk between clenched teeth: “Unani chomea picha kwa majirani. I don’t cook for you, mmmhh?”

Our daughter is by then holding her mum’s hand but staring at me like mimi ni baba wa mkate. “Give your girl mfupa iko na nyama!”

The wife of the jirani who runs for Kenya at night is msororaji and is then staring at the proceedings from the fourth floor. That makes me drink even more but promise myself to be home by the 9pm curfew time.

But there was a problem. On my way to our house on the fifth floor I confused the many doors of our majirani with our rooms and thought I had arrived at our bedroom. I undressed and folded my clothes on the rails and snuggled to sleep. When I came to my senses, the nagger was growling at me alongside other neighbours who wondered why I decided to sleep outside the door of the slay queen who angers the block with her loud music on second floor!

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