In the early 2000's I was in love, deeply, blindly and passionately in love. Oh! Love is such a great emotion for a young woman it takes you to cloud nine, until 'wisdom' with all its snootiness checks in, in the thirties. Party pauper the thirties are.
Well my Adonis and I were just strolling down the road between St Francis Clavers and bus station, holding hands, escorting him to Machakos bus station (yes you read right), when from nowhere our reverie was rudely interrupted by a gigantic street man. This one had outgrown the title of street boy. In Kenya they are derogatively referred to as chokora. The weapon he used to confront us was a hot, steaming, well molded, light brown mound of fresh human excrement.
Now those were dark times in Nairobi, street boys ruled the streets with the help of their faecal matter. They would threaten to smear you with their ordure till you gave in and ended up parting with your precious belongings; the really mean ones would still soil you with the poop anyway. The tales of people boarding matatus reeking of city council toilets were common place. We walked in fear. We lived in fear. Dark times I tell you. Then someone came to the city hall, a new town clerk and he was ruthless, he cleared the city of street families, rumour had it many unidentified bodies were seen floating on the Nairobi River, but seeing as I am no rumour monger I shall not pursue this. At the same time a new government took over and many street terrorists were recruited into the national youth service. Suddenly Nairobi was the city in the sun again. As usual I digress.
On seeing the street man and what he was wielding understandably my feet turned into lead and even if they hadn’t I don’t think I would have made it very far. However I was not worried I had watched enough Mexican soap operas, read too many romantic novels after lights off to know how this would play off. My knight in shining armour would disembark his horse and face my attackers to defend my honour and I would melt into his waiting arms impressed by his bravado right.
Well shock on me when my Adonis, my Knight, the love of my life took off at an alarming speed of lightning, leaving me with his luggage. The attacker and I were left staring at his retreating back and anyone would have been forgiven for thinking we were on it together. After a few seconds the assailant recovered and followed in hot pursuit, leaving me a forlorn figure on the road.
so much for swimming the oceans for me.
Damn mills and boons, damn harlequin romances, damn historical romances and damn you Escrava Isaura
Most certainly no one will catch a grenade for you so you better unlead your legs and run honey, run for your life as if there is no tomorrow. And hey do not get me wrong, we don't give up on love, expectations just become realistic. maybe I should have been thirty before I was twenty.
To be honest this was not my first encounter with these poop wielding hooligans, the first time I was with either the high school Linda or the University Linda, details fail me (I love you girls). This one must have been a rookie, he let us go with sagely words that we should go study hard so that we can help him and his ilk in the future. we successfully managed to negotiate ourselves out of that one with no expectations of rescue from a superman. Lord, I hope he never recognizes me on these streets though.
Ladies and gentlemen, the dark times are back on the streets of Nairobi, we were expectant of grand things from our new county government but maybe they are too busy dealing with grander things than excrement brandishing hooligans.
so people how will you react when they catch up with you?
Photo Credits; poop cake http://www.cakecentral.com/g/i/1391662/i-always-wanted-to-make-a-poop-cake-so-my-brother-just-turned-22-so-i-had-a-great-opportunity-he-loved-it-chocolate-fudge-chocolate-chip-cake-w-chocolate-frosting-and-toasted-coconut-cake-covered-in-chocolate-mmf-toilet-paper-made-out-of-rkt/