When you have a neighbour from hell

What do you call a person who waits until all your clothes have dried then they do the unthinkable - hang their dripping clothes on the top floor.

Or they wait until you are basking on the balcony then, then, from their vantage top floor, decide to pour contents of their dirty sufuria. That's my new heartless neighbor who resides on the top floor.

Since Mama Wazimu moved into our peaceful plot 10 a few months ago, life has been hellish. Mama Wazimu is the kind of a woman who cares less about the welfare of her neighbours.

I rarely bother with my neighbours, because I know the importance of minding my own business and it saves me a lot of trouble.

But an incident happened in my house and I was forced to know of this crazy woman. I noticed that my favourite white dress had unpleasant brown marks. I was furious at my house girl as i thought she was the culprit.

"Mama Tasha, sio mimi nilichafua hiyo nguo, ni yule mama mgeni anaishi top floor alianika duster zake chafu zika mwaga maji chini. Hata nguo za mtoto zimechafuliwa," (Mama Tasha I am not the one who stained the dress. The new neighbor who lives on the top floor had hung some dusters and the dirty water dripped on our clothes. Even baby's clothes were stained)

I cherish that white dress, but since I love to keep my cool and choose my battles carefully, I decided to ignore that 'isolated' incident.

But since that incident, Mama Wazimu has continued to push my buttons. Every Saturday morning, when people just want to have some peaceful sleep after a long stressful week at work, she plays loud irritating music.

I have told my house help several times to go ask the caretaker to tell her to keep the volume low. I have no idea what she is always fighting or hitting with up there, but it feels like she is exploding bombs.

Mama Wazimu is rude, self-centered and is a typical villager with no sense of civility. Everybody in the plot pays the person who collects trash every Friday, but she has decided she will manage her own trash to cut costs.

So, in the dead of the night, she sneaks behind the gate and dumps her trash there. I have spotted her doing it several times when I am from work.

I have always ignored this crazy woman, but the other week, she crossed the line and woke up the lioness in me.

I came from work and found Tasha crying and I was told that the crazy woman had slapped her mercilessly. Why?

Because she had thrown a ball and hit her window accidentally. But she chose to abuse my child even after she apologized endlessly.

I walked up to her door and knocked on it like a fellow mad woman. When she opened it, I gave her a piece of my mind. I hear she is planning to move out. Good riddance.