Our Nyumba Kumi attempt fails miserably

Waking up one day, we were shocked to discover a bandit had nicked side mirrors from every car at the estate parking lot. This must be a shenzi type thief who sweeps even those cracked pieces of glass from the sides of old automobiles that belong to the scrap yard.

You can imagine the disappointment of losing side mirrors at a time when inflation is about to be declared a national disaster alongside flash floods and Al Shabaab attacks.

Men who secretly nurse a crush on their cars were devastated. You could see them fantasizing about running over the thief who unfortunately was already auctioning the stolen merchandise somewhere in Kariobangi. Curses for the thief came in thick and fast and all the negative energy charged the air with palpable hatred that you could slice through with a knife.

“Wajameni!” interjected one of the landlords. A short man with a protuberant beer belly and small slits where the eyes ought to have been. Rumour had it that he had killed a man in his quest to get rich, and one look at his reptilian eyes was all that was required to confirm his deadliness.

“Why don’t we embrace the Nyumba Kumi initiative and police our estate ourselves?” he posed to men frothing at the mouth. Guys daydreaming about castrating the thief immediately volunteered but were cautioned that Nyumba Kumi was slightly more than a vigilante outfit.

“We need to ensure everyone peels their eyes and keeps their ears close to the ground to diffuse attacks like these,” a know-it-all informed them.

That is how, ladies and gentlemen, I made committee of our area Nyumba Kumi initiative by acclamation. All residents were to be on the lookout for any shady characters loitering with intent in our area. A hotline was hurriedly set up and a WhatsApp group created for the purpose.

The idea would have run smooth were it not for the drama that ensued. Within a week, the caretaker of one plot was discovered to be growing bhang at the at the top of his apartment block. This leaked from the Whatsapp.

Group updates quickly degenerated into ‘muchene’ hubs for the latest 411. Then when one of the tenants vacated, fixing a friend to take over the premises, the hue and outcry was deafening.

They complained that the departing family had been hounded out by Nyumba Kumi snoops who ‘poke their nose right into the private affairs. “They are taking this know-thy-neighbour thing too far,” the complaint went.

“These people are leaving without giving notice to the Nyumba Kumi committee. They are the ones compromising on the security of this area,” one of the coordinators blurted accusingly.

It was then agreed that everyone should agree to give up part of their privacy to help the initiative at least take off.

Otherwise we will never get beyond the point with everyone bent out of shape with indignation and self-righteousness.

A dude who felt he could take it no longer hung a sign to his door that hawkers, Ipsos researchers and the so-called Nyumba Kumi scouts were forbidden to knock at his door.

Then of course there is the single lady by the name Nerea.

She says since we rolled out our Nyumba Kumi, scouts have been knocking at her door every evening ruining her dates. “WTF! How am I supposed to give a biodata of my boyfies when I hardly know some of them well enough,” she complained during our first AGM.

This is the sort of neighbour who is as explosive as dynamite. Her hair, eyelashes, bum and complexion are all fake. Some say that even the bump she is displaying is a fake designed to snare her current boyfriend.

She can go on and on about a real man endlessly while entertaining strangers some of whom might be Al Shabaab for all we care.

Since everything was heading South, we asked Kaguthi, our chairman to gather the people so we could collectively go back to the drawing board.

The youth were accused of extortion while ladies were unanimous they could do well without busybodies knocking and enquiring about their guests all the time. The bhangi grower claimed his new hydrophonics agricultural research had been ruined and wanted out.

With such strong opposition, the project had to be abandoned. We went to bed expecting peace only to discover the following morning that the bandit had struck again. Someone call Kaguthi.