Nimo’s father looked at me with glassy eyes and said: ‘Nishawahi kukosea?‘
The day had come for coming face to face with the wazees from angry in-laws. Besides breaking their daughter’s leg before paying ruracio I was to answer charges of being caught red-handed, sleeping at the lodging with Skonye the barmaid, her one tit in my mouth… past curfew hours.
To put up a good show, Uncle Jamaica came armed with three mitungis of muratina ‘from a brewer with a government certificate.’ “Hii itawaleshewa waone na meno” he said, smiling to reveal a row of broken teeth with several gaps like mitaro in a dark alley. Some unlucky goat was also being roasted with the usual mutura, kichwa, mara, hooves and soup boiling with pili pili ya umbali.
My aunties had come with mukimo and njahi and why people from Central love placing sliced pineapples atop plates of rice and chapatis? overflowing with soup? I kept quite. I was not supposed to speak siku ya kiama.
I only caught my wife twice staring at me with the butt of her eye like I was the ghost of Alice Lakwena
Despite President Uhuru lifting the lockdown, the meeting venue remained Kenol-that place along the Thika Superhighway where all people from Mt Kenya meet.
Uncle Jamaica was our spokesman while Uncle Woz-Up spoke for Nimo’s family. It only hit me later that Woz-Up was WhatsApp which he had recently joined and was not giving members peace. Ha! Nimo didn’t even behave like we have a two year old daughter together. I only caught her twice staring at me with the butt of her eye like I was the ghost of Alice Lakwena.
Uncle Jamaica dragged one mtungi of muratina arguing “it was what lubricated throats, giving wazees wisdom” and all those salivating nodded their faded Seng’enge ni Ng’ombe angled caps.
My father in-law went to pee at the long-drop toilet, but missed his way back and took the highway towards Chania River
Uncle wa Woz-Up was drinking too fast given the 100 times he visited the urinal. Nimo’s father too seemed to be bending elbows at the speed of light. He looked at me with glassy eyes and said: “Nishawahi kukosea?”
The venue was getting animated, some were singing Mau Mau songs. Uncle Jamaica asked whether they were ready for roast ribs and Uncle wa Woz-Up retorted “Let us drink first, we can’t eat on an empty stomach.”
The case against me never took place that day: Nimo’s relatives began dancing to mugithi songs when the second mutungi was halfway down. Her dad went to pee at the long-drop toilet, but missed his way back and took the highway towards Chania River. He was arrested by AP and put on mandatory quarantine, stuff we heard the following day when few could remember how and with whom they had slept with except Uncle wa Woz-Up: He mistook doors and was found in the cozy company of Skonye come morning.
