Tomorrow is my wedding day. My Suzie, the joy of my soft heart will be jetting in from Mombasa today in the evening. And, I will surely amaze her at the airport. I am known for being the king of surprises. This being my birthday month, I have to do all to make it memorable. Like you already know, after I threatened mzee with a sermon letter at the chief’s office, he agreed to sell one of his Merino sheep for the benefit of his son; me, Mteule. All I was begging was fare back to the city. He was reluctant. I applied the rule of the law.
She has all it takes,A specialist in cakes,Susan is the girl who is always dancing in my dreams,She is my Cleopatra,I am her Anthony.Immediately she arrives at my hot bedsitter with excellent finishing, I will offer her a rose flower. I will buy one at Hotel Sankara, I mean near the hotel. I have already duplicated my bedsitter keys. As she becomes part and parcel of the noblest tenant of a bedsitter South of Sahara, she must be welcomed in style.I publicly promise that I will be the family Chef each and every Sunday. She should try me.As I plan this, the memory of the January of 1996 keeps coming back. I hope it is not my time to pay for my crimes. That January mama banned the eating of eggs. That she wanted the eggs to hatch. How could she?I had to devise a way. Whenever she was out, she left me to take care of my young brother, Sam. Sam was a traitor and everything we did illegally or irregularly was reported by him.“Nitasema ulipika mayai”, he started as I broke the third egg.“These are not eggs, they are called Angoti”, I told him in a calm tenor voice with a G-clef music sound.“I am big now, I know they are, I need three and you take one”, he negotiated a deal.By all justices, that was a corruption of the lowest order. I could not accept such a deal and dared him to report me. In any case, there were not eggs, were they? After he started a one-little-boy mass action in the kitchen, I had to give in.We shared equally on the ratio of 1:1The drama started as we having our supper that evening. Mama had made it an eleventh commandment that was written in our hearts: Thou shall not have three consecutive suppers without ugali Sukuma.The little boy started asking for Angoti when mama offered some Sukuma. I recited the apostle's creed and wished myself luck.
“What is Angoti?”, mama asked him.“Ingine Kaka Mteule alinipikia”, he said as tears rolled down his cheeks.“Ni nini ulimpa mtoto?”, mama asked me.“Hakuna tulikula tu githeri…”, I answered.The boy turned uncontrollably and rolled himself on the ground. Amid sobs, he kept asking.“Mnanipa sukuma na mnajua sipendi sukuma, nataka Angoti, mama nipe angoti”.That minute, mama went to the bedroom and came back with a blanket. At least she had to something for her little son. He reduced the crying.“Ndio hii blanketi, unataka kulala”, she asked.Seeing the blanket, Sam jumped up and down. The more he cried, the more I was nearing my crucifixion.“Go get it, the blanketi, Angoti ,Magoti”, mama asked him raising her voice, which she rarely did.Instantaneously, the little boy rose and left the store. It was about 8.20 PM.Some few seconds later, the boy emerged from the darkness.“This is what I want, Kaka Mteule alinipikia hii, hii ndiyo Angoti”, he sad casting a political smile.In his small left hand, he held four eggs…All I know is that I slept in the forest. On such a night like tonight. That January...
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