Scheme to win a beautiful tenant

By Mark Mutahi

The reason landlords with more than one tenant feel safer than those with just one unit is because should one of the tenants go berserk following a quarrel over rent, help can come in the form of the other occupants! Or so I thought when Naftaly built more rental units and my reign as the sole tenant came to an end. But as I soon learnt one afternoon while preparing to leave for the pub, new neighbours don’t only present new nuisance but also new opportunities.

"Help! Help! ..." I heard a scream coming from one of the neighbours I was yet to meet.

Of course, before I could blindly rush out to help, I had to establish it was something I could handle. Otherwise I was prepared to go under the bed and hide until the problem disappeared. This I did by peering through the window. It was then that I saw a woman in a hooded sweatpants suit run out of one of the new units shouting, "Snake! Snake! Snake!"

With these housing units yet to get a name, this perhaps was the chance to become a hero and have them named after me! I did not need more convincing and I ran out.

"Where is it?" I asked putting on the airs of an actor auditioning for a superman role. The shivering woman pointed inside the house and I dashed in. I was just in time to see a gecko scampering up the wall.

"You mean that one?" I asked. She nodded. I always knew our education system needs overhauling, but this was a new low. I now totally agreed with the teacher’s union that more teachers needed to be hired and perhaps mandatory school trips to the snake park for the students.

So beautiful

"Problem solved!" I said after removing one of my sandals and throwing it at the gecko, which instantly dropped to the floor. It was a heroic moment and also a good time for the Kenya Wildlife Services to revise their figures for the local gecko population downwards.

"Thank you so much ... am Maureen ... we haven’t been introduced!" she said as she tossed her hood backwards. I gasped. She was so beautiful she looked like an MP’s payslip before tax. And with looks like hers I knew the clan would understand if I sold the family land to take her to Seychelles!

"And what do you do?" Maureen went on to ask as I stood there tongue-tied.

"I work at ... er ... er ... am a night manager at a call centre," I lied hoping to impress.

"Oh that’s so interesting, I used to work at a call centre too ... we have a lot to talk about!" Maureen added.

I agreed regretting the lie since it was going to be very expensive trying to look like an ‘executive’.

And even more worrying, as I prepared to leave for the pub, I noticed I was suddenly conscious of my looks to the extent of checking myself out on a spoon since I don’t have a mirror!