Death Squad
Death Squad
How being a kikuyu can get you killed
I know what your thinking 'bloody kikuyus now they are victims. Victims of what?'
So imagine this your normal Saturday afternoon, lunch at a friend's house then your just in time to catch the dying moments of the Manchester united vs Liverpool match where your team Manchester united just lost 4 to 1 yes the phones phone is ringing off the hook people calling to gloat over how humbled Man U are... Then your off to your cousin's house catch up on old times. Finally your plot for the evening, dinner with the girlfriend, home cooked meal at her place… so you are on your way to meet her, but then you wanna buy her something nice, so you go to the ATM and get baked up.
Your now on your way to see her, buy her that something nice, and go over to her place. You've just left the ATM, Co-operative bank on Aga Khan walk, you are walking to bata Hilton, so you decide to go behind Kencom and cross over. Just as you cross the road from the ATM machine, this car pulls over in front of you, so you so you go around it. Then in not so kind a tone, as only policemen and robbers do, you hear
"simama police" (stop police)
Now your heart is racing, your thinking 'what the fuck'….
So you decide it’s in your best interest to run, you hesitate. The guy yells out again.
"Kuja hapa polisi" (come here, police)
Now let’s just pause there for a minute, let me give you a flash back....
Last year a friend of mine and I are walking home from our graduation party, a car pulls up same way, then guns are drawn and we are robber almost shot...
Now back to reality, policeman yelling…
But how am i support to know if he and his friends are police officers. He attempts to show me a badge or identification card of some sort, but as you can guess at that very moment, a card is the last thing on my mind. I mean how the fuck do I know its authentic, all Kenyans who know how a police budge would look like put your hands up... One, two, three, one hundred...ah...ahh...
Ok then, all thugs who know how a police budge looks like, kindly without drawing your guns...
no don't run away either, just put your hand up...
one, two, ten thousand half a million...
Ok I cannot count that far... So let’s make it easy, how many of you can make one like it, keep your hand up...
Ok, so that’s half of you... So let’s see, how many of you have one that looks exactly like a police budge...
oh that many of you...
oops what's that, could you kindly repeat that...
Oh you have uniforms too...
I take it they are police uniforms...
My how interesting...
What's that...
No that cannot be true...
So let me get this straight...
Not only can you forge police identification, you have their uniforms and now you’re telling me, that the guns you use where either given to you by the police or stolen from the police...
Is that right...
It is...
Oh my God…
and this nigger right here wants me to get into a car just cause he says he is a cop and to prove it he is holding a budge in a dark corner while he is inside a car with dimmed lights. Fat chance I’ll get in.
Ten seconds pass. I turn to run for it, then i see it….
From the guy in the back seat a gun pointed straight at me, his stature tells me he will not miss…
Quick math ‘ten meters between me and the corner no way he can shoot through the half a meter of concrete that is at that corner. If they get out and give chase, they cannot shoot, as it is crowded and by the time they get out of the car, I will be on the other side, where I remember seeing a traffic cop. If they are thugs, they will not come that far, if they are cops, they will have to identify themselves to their fellow cop and by the time they have that cleared, I will either be far away or hiding behind the cop, and they will have to sort out the mess in public.'
so i wanna make a dash for it, then the first guy opens the door I can see a pistol, the other guy on my side has his aimed at me, the driver is on quick getaway mode and the third passenger already has his head and arms outside the opposite window, and is drawing his gun.
Again quick math ‘I have what 2 to 3 k in my pocket, ten or twenty times that much in my bank account, nothing worth getting killed over.'
so mikono juu (hands up)then one guy gets out pulls me into the back sit,
am not sure if he got out through the window then opened the door or just used the door.
N’way am in the back sit of the car.
'Kijana wewe nani. Unafanya wapi, toa id' (young man who are you, where do you work, give me your ID card)
All this time am reciting my name and the fact that am a journalist. Then they pick up my last name, "mugo'" (not my real name for the purposes of this article) yes never mind that I said
"Daniel Mugo" they just picked on Mugo.
"wewe ni mkikuyu" (you are a kikuyu)
And am thinking, no am an American with a tan and Mugo for a last name, off course am a kikuyu hence my last name dah..
"haya toa id"(give me you ID) which I do
"wapi ya kazi" (where is your office ID)
I stature and say something like 'sibebagi ya kazi'(I do not carry it with me)
"kwanini na hio ndio muhimu"(why that’s more important)
I proceed to arrogantly explain how you cannot get into the office without the Id so I cannot afford to lose it. (Between you and me I exaggerated on the arrogant part)
Then the question every kikuyu dreads
"wewe kijana wewe ni mungiki" (young man are you part of the mungiki)
Shit I do the math again, ‘they are clearly not thugs they are looking for mungiki, they must be the much talked about Kwekwe squad. Shit’,….
Now I really wish they were thugs…
You have high chances of surviving a thug, he is after your money. But Kwekwe they have been known to be a rough death squad.
My mind paints the picture, at least I got to see one of my friends, talked to two of them on phone, saw my cousin and my auntie, talked to my youngest brother and sent my mum like a Bamba 100...
I could see the headlines 'journalist killed for suspicion of links to mungiki' or better yet 'police say mungiki killed journalist'.
Then for the next few days 'family of murdered journalist claim foul play over journalist death'...
In my day dream I had forgotten about the police and that I was still alive……
A quick nudge brings me back to reality, as I try to catch the last question asked by the cop.
"kijana wewe ni mungiki" (young man are you part of the mungiki)
I quickly decline to answer.
They ask again in a not so pleasant voice.
So I quickly say no.
They ask me to empty my pockets and hold in one hand all my valuables meaning money, phone or watch.
Now I don know about you but at this point in time, am thinking my life is more valuable, so how the fuck do I hold my life in one hand nigger...
So n’way I do it, I get my cash, house key give them my id and the rest of my wallet. Then they see my ATM card.
"kijana unajua siku hizi mungiki wana tumia vijana kama wewe kuwawekea pesa… wewe ni wa cooperative." (this days mungiki use young men to launder money… are you in co-operative bank)
I nod
"So uko na pesa ngapi kwa account yako" (how much money do you have in your account)
Now hold it right there, don't you need a court order to see my bank records. Am about to say that out loud then I remember am in the hands of Kwekwe squad, they may be looking for provocation and am not about to provoke them so I tell them I have x amount (off course I will not tell you... What do you have a sap whatever from the court... No... Are you holding a gun... No... Then shut up and keep reading)
So I tell them what I consider to be a safe amount. I mean, From their assessment of me, I don't want them knowing how much it really is, coz to be honest, at my age and given that I have only had a job for four months and am supporting my younger brother, I should not have that much. They might say am moving money for mungiki and shot me. Then…
"kwa hivyo tukienda kwa ATM yako saa hii tutapata x amount kwa account yako"(so if we go to your account right now you will have X amount only)
I swallow the gathering saliva in my mouth and calmly answer
'ndio' (yes)
… But in my heart am pleading with the dear Lord, please don't let them go to my account, I even offer to tithe double, I mean as a mortal I believe in offering God a deal he cannot refuse...
Then they give me a mungiki lecture, of which all I can hear is "mungiki blah blah blah... Mungiki... Wauaji.... Shot... wewe… Shoot.... Mungiki..."
all this time am thinking of my girlfriend who is somewhere outside Bata Hilton waiting...
Will she wait and tomorrow see my dead body on TV as my fellow journalist reports my death...
Then I think of my friends and how no one in their right mind would buy the tale that am a mungiki member....
Then my family...
My poor mum would be devastated, my brothers...
How would they get their education I may not contribute much, but the moral support I give mum is more than any cheque...
Back to reality....
"kijana chunga sana, jibu maswali" (young man answer the question)
So I answer a few more questions about my job, where am going, how long I’ve been working, where I was before that...blah...blah...blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....
Then the search or is it abuse…
one guy is frisking my pockets, the other is in my socks works his way up to my....
Shit if I did not know better I could say he was enjoying that part coz it felt like he did it for an hour, and then he says…
"nini hio" (what’s that)
holding… and am thinking… it’s a shotgun with two circular objects that must be bullets protruding out of my body… then the other guy working his way down my shirt also goes for it...
'Shit having fun boys coz am not…
Now get the fuck out of my…'
They then resolve between themselves that it's part of my anatomy…
N’way they then proceed to explain to me, how kyuk young men, are part of some elaborate web woven by the mungiki, with a cash flow, transfer and laundering project using young employed kyuks...
So I think to myself
'In short if my name was Omondi all this would not be happening to me… how enlightening'
The cops ask me why tried to run
"kwanini ulikua unataka kukimbia unajua tunge kushoot" (why did you try to run, don’t you know we could have shot you)
Excuse you, is that it, if I run from people with guns who claim to be police you shot me…
"next time mtu akisema yeye ni polisi mwambie akuonyeshe ID na akupatie budge number" (next time if someone says they are a police officer ask to see their ID and takedown their budge number)
Now let’s be realistic, I mean, people are being shot by thugs and policemen left right and center, the mungiki are chopping heads and this nigger right here, is asking me to ask for identification and budge numbers...
How the fuck does that work...
Excuse me can I see your ID to determine if you will shoot me or chop my head off...
Shit no way Jose I will run...
"Sasa unaona, hakuna kitu tumekufanya." (We did nothing to you see)
You touched my genitals, what the fuck are you talking about….
"Polisi sio wabaya. Hebushika vitu zako, make sure you have all you valuables. Usiseme polisi wamekuibia valuables."(the police are not bad. Check to be sure you have all your valuables so that you do not say the police robbed you)
Am thinking 'what about my other valuables that you where touching, can I check them too'
Then
"Ulisema una enda Hilton" (did you say you were going to the Hilton)
All this time we had been driving around in a variation of speeds.
'Ndio' (yes)
"Sawa weka yeye hapo Hilton ama nyuma ya international house"(ok drop him off at international house)
Then the driver and the guy in the front passenger seat says
"Unauhakika huyu yuko sawa, tumshukishe. Asifanyiwe kazi"(are you sure he’s not a thug. Shouldn’t we finish the job?)
'Asifanyiwe kazi?'(finish the job?) what the fuck is that suppose to mean.
Do these idiots wanna shoot me…
What the fuck is wrong with this country, first you get detained coz your walking in town at nine, then you get shoot for being a kikuyu…
Shit, now I know what it feels like to be a nigger and not the race but the bull's eye…
Fuck I should have changed my name to Omondi last week… Shit the idiot next to me is retrieving his weapon…
I feel the end is near…
It looks like we might be going out of town…
'Dear Lord.. No sweet Jesus…no..no.. Our father who at in heaven. No that won't do… The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want… He Leadeth me to greener pastures… and lays a table for me in front of my enemies… oh yee thou I walk in the shadow of the valley of death… I shall fear no evil… yes that’s it… For The Lord is my shepherd… Shit I think I have it backwards… So I start again…
Then suddenly the guy beside me says…
"Yuko sawa mshukishe"(he’s ok let him out)
Shoot, am going to live, am alive, Yes Yes Yes....
Oh Yes....
But am not out of the car yet…
"Sawa kijana jichunge. Na next time usikimbie, the only reason you are in the car is coz you where acting suspicious..." (Ok young man take care. And next time don’t run, …)
Now I do not know about you, but how the hell do you tell who is suspicious in the dark...
I guess we have trained cops to have night vision or some shit like that…
The car stops…
We are still in town…
I can see the Kimathi statue…
That’s a good thing they cannot 'fanyia mimi kazi' here, can they?
Am still sandwiched in the back seat…
"Sawa Sawa Mugo, chunga… Na usiende kukunywa" (ok Mugo, take care… and don’t go drinking)
Darn it… What the hell does this nigger mean 'usiende kukunywa' (don’t go drinking) normally I do not drink but under the circumstances who would blame me…
I plan to get drunk shitless…
The guy jumps out, I hesitate….
"siutoke" (don’t you want to get out) he shouts
You don have to tell me twice….
Am out of the car in a flash…
My first instinct is to run…
But then I remember that’s how people get shot…'kufanyiwa kazi' (finishing the job)
They speed off…
I look around and the rest of the city is going on oblivious of the fact a car just sped off after a huge guy muscled out someone who is obviously shaken…
So to hell with the concerned citizens, I make for Bata Hilton that’s just around the block…
I call my girlfriend trying to musk my shaky voice…
She says she sees me…
The hug, I linger longer than normal…
I plan not to tell her the ordeal till we get home…
She starts with how bad her day was but clearly nothing can top mine…
She tells me she is tired and not good company tonight and wants to push dinner at her place to another day…
Shit, just when I thought it could not be worse…
I tell her a bit about the ordeal…
She is shaken…
I reassure her am alright…
Am now thinking at dinner at her place and someone to talk to…
I mean is that too much to ask after such an ordeal…
I should think not…
But she insists on going home alone through the usual way women do it by guilt tripping you and making you empathize with them…
I try to remind her of my situation but she has that face… You know the 'aki am tired sweetie face' so not being one to force a donkey to the river for fear that it might not drink any water I let her go…
Plus she does not approve of drinking and bad company under the situation sounds worse than a hug over…
Hug good night and she is off…
Me?
I walk to the bar…
Tusker Malt baridi(cold) and ask the waiter to bring something strong, you know one of those drinks with names that blow you mind, and tend to be sexual in nature(blowjob, flaming orgasm, three some….)
…It feels good and I order three more tots and proceed to my Tusker Malt baridi…
Its nine ten and given what I just underwent I clearly do not wanna stick around town…
I get home and then she calls…
Oh how guilty she feels…
She goes on and on the usual I'll make it up to you dear… But all I can hear is blah…blah…blah…
Then she says it the most annoying thing people say when you do not feel like talking to them
"I hope ujakasirika na mimi" ( I hope I did not upset you) Jezz am just thrilled that on a night I almost got shot by a dreaded police death squad, my girlfriend did not have time for me…
But then I say 'ni sawa tu sweetie' (it’s ok sweetie) yeah right…
What's done is done…
"Aki silike venye una sema ni sawa, kwani nimekudisappoint?"(I don’t understand why you said ok like that, did I disappoint you?)
Now that’s an even worse question to ask…
'ndio lakini ni sawa' (yes you did but it’s ok)
Then she says more blah…blah…blah…
and the network's unreliability helps me coz I cannot hear what she is saying and she cannot hear me so I hang up… I do not want to have this talk again so I switch off the phone…
Shit it’s still is till now… let me switch it on…….
Ok where was I…
oh yes I switch off the phone…
I go to the couch and sit, pull up my laptop and walla there you have it…
Now let me make my point on why it's dangerous to be a kyuk…
If I was coming from the supermarket and had bought say a knife… t
hink about it a kyuk with a knife falls into the hands of Kwekwe…
I know what you are asking…
What would I be doing buying a knife… What the fuck is wrong with you, is it illegal to by knives at night…
Shit am a bachelor we buy utensils and cutlery randomly when need arises.
Or say I was going to my nephew's birthday party and bought him a toy gun…
My point is if am a kyuk police wanna shoot me coz according to them chances are am a member of the mungiki cult…
That’s not even fucked up…
I'll tell you what is…
If I meet with the same mungiki who according to the police protect the kikuyu, they ask me to join them and chop heads if I refuse they chop mine…
Now isn't that interesting…
But then again, if the rest of you idiots should not feel safe at all I mean if you are a Kisii, Kwekwe will shoot your ass coz they’ll say you are a chinkororo (is that how you spell it)….
If you are a Luo you are Taliban….
If you are from Rift Valley you are SLDF…
If you are from the coast you are Muslim which equals Al Qaida…
Shit we are all fucked sorry Omondi, I guess think Mugo Makes no difference afterall….
Now eint that fucked up?....
Death Squad
How being a kikuyu can get you killed
I know what your thinking 'bloody kikuyus now they are victims. Victims of what?'
So imagine this your normal Saturday afternoon, lunch at a friend's house then your just in time to catch the dying moments of the Manchester united vs Liverpool match where your team Manchester united just lost 4 to 1 yes the phones phone is ringing off the hook people calling to gloat over how humbled Man U are... Then your off to your cousin's house catch up on old times. Finally your plot for the evening, dinner with the girlfriend, home cooked meal at her place… so you are on your way to meet her, but then you wanna buy her something nice, so you go to the ATM and get baked up.
Your now on your way to see her, buy her that something nice, and go over to her place. You've just left the ATM, Co-operative bank on Aga Khan walk, you are walking to bata Hilton, so you decide to go behind Kencom and cross over. Just as you cross the road from the ATM machine, this car pulls over in front of you, so you so you go around it. Then in not so kind a tone, as only policemen and robbers do, you hear
"simama police" (stop police)
Now your heart is racing, your thinking 'what the fuck'….
So you decide it’s in your best interest to run, you hesitate. The guy yells out again.
"Kuja hapa polisi" (come here, police)
Now let’s just pause there for a minute, let me give you a flash back....
Last year a friend of mine and I are walking home from our graduation party, a car pulls up same way, then guns are drawn and we are robber almost shot...
Now back to reality, policeman yelling…
But how am i support to know if he and his friends are police officers. He attempts to show me a badge or identification card of some sort, but as you can guess at that very moment, a card is the last thing on my mind. I mean how the fuck do I know its authentic, all Kenyans who know how a police budge would look like put your hands up... One, two, three, one hundred...ah...ahh...
Ok then, all thugs who know how a police budge looks like, kindly without drawing your guns...
no don't run away either, just put your hand up...
one, two, ten thousand half a million...
Ok I cannot count that far... So let’s make it easy, how many of you can make one like it, keep your hand up...
Ok, so that’s half of you... So let’s see, how many of you have one that looks exactly like a police budge...
oh that many of you...
oops what's that, could you kindly repeat that...
Oh you have uniforms too...
I take it they are police uniforms...
My how interesting...
What's that...
No that cannot be true...
So let me get this straight...
Not only can you forge police identification, you have their uniforms and now you’re telling me, that the guns you use where either given to you by the police or stolen from the police...
Is that right...
It is...
Oh my God…
and this nigger right here wants me to get into a car just cause he says he is a cop and to prove it he is holding a budge in a dark corner while he is inside a car with dimmed lights. Fat chance I’ll get in.
Ten seconds pass. I turn to run for it, then i see it….
From the guy in the back seat a gun pointed straight at me, his stature tells me he will not miss…
Quick math ‘ten meters between me and the corner no way he can shoot through the half a meter of concrete that is at that corner. If they get out and give chase, they cannot shoot, as it is crowded and by the time they get out of the car, I will be on the other side, where I remember seeing a traffic cop. If they are thugs, they will not come that far, if they are cops, they will have to identify themselves to their fellow cop and by the time they have that cleared, I will either be far away or hiding behind the cop, and they will have to sort out the mess in public.'
so i wanna make a dash for it, then the first guy opens the door I can see a pistol, the other guy on my side has his aimed at me, the driver is on quick getaway mode and the third passenger already has his head and arms outside the opposite window, and is drawing his gun.
Again quick math ‘I have what 2 to 3 k in my pocket, ten or twenty times that much in my bank account, nothing worth getting killed over.'
so mikono juu (hands up)then one guy gets out pulls me into the back sit,
am not sure if he got out through the window then opened the door or just used the door.
N’way am in the back sit of the car.
'Kijana wewe nani. Unafanya wapi, toa id' (young man who are you, where do you work, give me your ID card)
All this time am reciting my name and the fact that am a journalist. Then they pick up my last name, "mugo'" (not my real name for the purposes of this article) yes never mind that I said
"Daniel Mugo" they just picked on Mugo.
"wewe ni mkikuyu" (you are a kikuyu)
And am thinking, no am an American with a tan and Mugo for a last name, off course am a kikuyu hence my last name dah..
"haya toa id"(give me you ID) which I do
"wapi ya kazi" (where is your office ID)
I stature and say something like 'sibebagi ya kazi'(I do not carry it with me)
"kwanini na hio ndio muhimu"(why that’s more important)
I proceed to arrogantly explain how you cannot get into the office without the Id so I cannot afford to lose it. (Between you and me I exaggerated on the arrogant part)
Then the question every kikuyu dreads
"wewe kijana wewe ni mungiki" (young man are you part of the mungiki)
Shit I do the math again, ‘they are clearly not thugs they are looking for mungiki, they must be the much talked about Kwekwe squad. Shit’,….
Now I really wish they were thugs…
You have high chances of surviving a thug, he is after your money. But Kwekwe they have been known to be a rough death squad.
My mind paints the picture, at least I got to see one of my friends, talked to two of them on phone, saw my cousin and my auntie, talked to my youngest brother and sent my mum like a Bamba 100...
I could see the headlines 'journalist killed for suspicion of links to mungiki' or better yet 'police say mungiki killed journalist'.
Then for the next few days 'family of murdered journalist claim foul play over journalist death'...
In my day dream I had forgotten about the police and that I was still alive……
A quick nudge brings me back to reality, as I try to catch the last question asked by the cop.
"kijana wewe ni mungiki" (young man are you part of the mungiki)
I quickly decline to answer.
They ask again in a not so pleasant voice.
So I quickly say no.
They ask me to empty my pockets and hold in one hand all my valuables meaning money, phone or watch.
Now I don know about you but at this point in time, am thinking my life is more valuable, so how the fuck do I hold my life in one hand nigger...
So n’way I do it, I get my cash, house key give them my id and the rest of my wallet. Then they see my ATM card.
"kijana unajua siku hizi mungiki wana tumia vijana kama wewe kuwawekea pesa… wewe ni wa cooperative." (this days mungiki use young men to launder money… are you in co-operative bank)
I nod
"So uko na pesa ngapi kwa account yako" (how much money do you have in your account)
Now hold it right there, don't you need a court order to see my bank records. Am about to say that out loud then I remember am in the hands of Kwekwe squad, they may be looking for provocation and am not about to provoke them so I tell them I have x amount (off course I will not tell you... What do you have a sap whatever from the court... No... Are you holding a gun... No... Then shut up and keep reading)
So I tell them what I consider to be a safe amount. I mean, From their assessment of me, I don't want them knowing how much it really is, coz to be honest, at my age and given that I have only had a job for four months and am supporting my younger brother, I should not have that much. They might say am moving money for mungiki and shot me. Then…
"kwa hivyo tukienda kwa ATM yako saa hii tutapata x amount kwa account yako"(so if we go to your account right now you will have X amount only)
I swallow the gathering saliva in my mouth and calmly answer
'ndio' (yes)
… But in my heart am pleading with the dear Lord, please don't let them go to my account, I even offer to tithe double, I mean as a mortal I believe in offering God a deal he cannot refuse...
Then they give me a mungiki lecture, of which all I can hear is "mungiki blah blah blah... Mungiki... Wauaji.... Shot... wewe… Shoot.... Mungiki..."
all this time am thinking of my girlfriend who is somewhere outside Bata Hilton waiting...
Will she wait and tomorrow see my dead body on TV as my fellow journalist reports my death...
Then I think of my friends and how no one in their right mind would buy the tale that am a mungiki member....
Then my family...
My poor mum would be devastated, my brothers...
How would they get their education I may not contribute much, but the moral support I give mum is more than any cheque...
Back to reality....
"kijana chunga sana, jibu maswali" (young man answer the question)
So I answer a few more questions about my job, where am going, how long I’ve been working, where I was before that...blah...blah...blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....
Then the search or is it abuse…
one guy is frisking my pockets, the other is in my socks works his way up to my....
Shit if I did not know better I could say he was enjoying that part coz it felt like he did it for an hour, and then he says…
"nini hio" (what’s that)
holding… and am thinking… it’s a shotgun with two circular objects that must be bullets protruding out of my body… then the other guy working his way down my shirt also goes for it...
'Shit having fun boys coz am not…
Now get the fuck out of my…'
They then resolve between themselves that it's part of my anatomy…
N’way they then proceed to explain to me, how kyuk young men, are part of some elaborate web woven by the mungiki, with a cash flow, transfer and laundering project using young employed kyuks...
So I think to myself
'In short if my name was Omondi all this would not be happening to me… how enlightening'
The cops ask me why tried to run
"kwanini ulikua unataka kukimbia unajua tunge kushoot" (why did you try to run, don’t you know we could have shot you)
Excuse you, is that it, if I run from people with guns who claim to be police you shot me…
"next time mtu akisema yeye ni polisi mwambie akuonyeshe ID na akupatie budge number" (next time if someone says they are a police officer ask to see their ID and takedown their budge number)
Now let’s be realistic, I mean, people are being shot by thugs and policemen left right and center, the mungiki are chopping heads and this nigger right here, is asking me to ask for identification and budge numbers...
How the fuck does that work...
Excuse me can I see your ID to determine if you will shoot me or chop my head off...
Shit no way Jose I will run...
"Sasa unaona, hakuna kitu tumekufanya." (We did nothing to you see)
You touched my genitals, what the fuck are you talking about….
"Polisi sio wabaya. Hebushika vitu zako, make sure you have all you valuables. Usiseme polisi wamekuibia valuables."(the police are not bad. Check to be sure you have all your valuables so that you do not say the police robbed you)
Am thinking 'what about my other valuables that you where touching, can I check them too'
Then
"Ulisema una enda Hilton" (did you say you were going to the Hilton)
All this time we had been driving around in a variation of speeds.
'Ndio' (yes)
"Sawa weka yeye hapo Hilton ama nyuma ya international house"(ok drop him off at international house)
Then the driver and the guy in the front passenger seat says
"Unauhakika huyu yuko sawa, tumshukishe. Asifanyiwe kazi"(are you sure he’s not a thug. Shouldn’t we finish the job?)
'Asifanyiwe kazi?'(finish the job?) what the fuck is that suppose to mean.
Do these idiots wanna shoot me…
What the fuck is wrong with this country, first you get detained coz your walking in town at nine, then you get shoot for being a kikuyu…
Shit, now I know what it feels like to be a nigger and not the race but the bull's eye…
Fuck I should have changed my name to Omondi last week… Shit the idiot next to me is retrieving his weapon…
I feel the end is near…
It looks like we might be going out of town…
'Dear Lord.. No sweet Jesus…no..no.. Our father who at in heaven. No that won't do… The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want… He Leadeth me to greener pastures… and lays a table for me in front of my enemies… oh yee thou I walk in the shadow of the valley of death… I shall fear no evil… yes that’s it… For The Lord is my shepherd… Shit I think I have it backwards… So I start again…
Then suddenly the guy beside me says…
"Yuko sawa mshukishe"(he’s ok let him out)
Shoot, am going to live, am alive, Yes Yes Yes....
Oh Yes....
But am not out of the car yet…
"Sawa kijana jichunge. Na next time usikimbie, the only reason you are in the car is coz you where acting suspicious..." (Ok young man take care. And next time don’t run, …)
Now I do not know about you, but how the hell do you tell who is suspicious in the dark...
I guess we have trained cops to have night vision or some shit like that…
The car stops…
We are still in town…
I can see the Kimathi statue…
That’s a good thing they cannot 'fanyia mimi kazi' here, can they?
Am still sandwiched in the back seat…
"Sawa Sawa Mugo, chunga… Na usiende kukunywa" (ok Mugo, take care… and don’t go drinking)
Darn it… What the hell does this nigger mean 'usiende kukunywa' (don’t go drinking) normally I do not drink but under the circumstances who would blame me…
I plan to get drunk shitless…
The guy jumps out, I hesitate….
"siutoke" (don’t you want to get out) he shouts
You don have to tell me twice….
Am out of the car in a flash…
My first instinct is to run…
But then I remember that’s how people get shot…'kufanyiwa kazi' (finishing the job)
They speed off…
I look around and the rest of the city is going on oblivious of the fact a car just sped off after a huge guy muscled out someone who is obviously shaken…
So to hell with the concerned citizens, I make for Bata Hilton that’s just around the block…
I call my girlfriend trying to musk my shaky voice…
She says she sees me…
The hug, I linger longer than normal…
I plan not to tell her the ordeal till we get home…
She starts with how bad her day was but clearly nothing can top mine…
She tells me she is tired and not good company tonight and wants to push dinner at her place to another day…
Shit, just when I thought it could not be worse…
I tell her a bit about the ordeal…
She is shaken…
I reassure her am alright…
Am now thinking at dinner at her place and someone to talk to…
I mean is that too much to ask after such an ordeal…
I should think not…
But she insists on going home alone through the usual way women do it by guilt tripping you and making you empathize with them…
I try to remind her of my situation but she has that face… You know the 'aki am tired sweetie face' so not being one to force a donkey to the river for fear that it might not drink any water I let her go…
Plus she does not approve of drinking and bad company under the situation sounds worse than a hug over…
Hug good night and she is off…
Me?
I walk to the bar…
Tusker Malt baridi(cold) and ask the waiter to bring something strong, you know one of those drinks with names that blow you mind, and tend to be sexual in nature(blowjob, flaming orgasm, three some….)
…It feels good and I order three more tots and proceed to my Tusker Malt baridi…
Its nine ten and given what I just underwent I clearly do not wanna stick around town…
I get home and then she calls…
Oh how guilty she feels…
She goes on and on the usual I'll make it up to you dear… But all I can hear is blah…blah…blah…
Then she says it the most annoying thing people say when you do not feel like talking to them
"I hope ujakasirika na mimi" ( I hope I did not upset you) Jezz am just thrilled that on a night I almost got shot by a dreaded police death squad, my girlfriend did not have time for me…
But then I say 'ni sawa tu sweetie' (it’s ok sweetie) yeah right…
What's done is done…
"Aki silike venye una sema ni sawa, kwani nimekudisappoint?"(I don’t understand why you said ok like that, did I disappoint you?)
Now that’s an even worse question to ask…
'ndio lakini ni sawa' (yes you did but it’s ok)
Then she says more blah…blah…blah…
and the network's unreliability helps me coz I cannot hear what she is saying and she cannot hear me so I hang up… I do not want to have this talk again so I switch off the phone…
Shit it’s still is till now… let me switch it on…….
Ok where was I…
oh yes I switch off the phone…
I go to the couch and sit, pull up my laptop and walla there you have it…
Now let me make my point on why it's dangerous to be a kyuk…
If I was coming from the supermarket and had bought say a knife… t
hink about it a kyuk with a knife falls into the hands of Kwekwe…
I know what you are asking…
What would I be doing buying a knife… What the fuck is wrong with you, is it illegal to by knives at night…
Shit am a bachelor we buy utensils and cutlery randomly when need arises.
Or say I was going to my nephew's birthday party and bought him a toy gun…
My point is if am a kyuk police wanna shoot me coz according to them chances are am a member of the mungiki cult…
That’s not even fucked up…
I'll tell you what is…
If I meet with the same mungiki who according to the police protect the kikuyu, they ask me to join them and chop heads if I refuse they chop mine…
Now isn't that interesting…
But then again, if the rest of you idiots should not feel safe at all I mean if you are a Kisii, Kwekwe will shoot your ass coz they’ll say you are a chinkororo (is that how you spell it)….
If you are a Luo you are Taliban….
If you are from Rift Valley you are SLDF…
If you are from the coast you are Muslim which equals Al Qaida…
Shit we are all fucked sorry Omondi, I guess think Mugo Makes no difference afterall….
Now eint that fucked up?....
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