When Kenyan history is written, Waiguru’s name will not miss. But that depends on who is writing, if the writer comes from the slopes of Mount Kenya, he or she might decide to forget or omit that name. I wonder why people called her names like “Mwizi” and all other types of names they won’t even think of giving their new born. In fact I had not known that woman until I saw her on the headlines for about a week and I thought it was a new TV show running on all local channels. Listen, If you think she stole some money which you didn’t see and probably was not going to see, you have not heard of how the residents of plot 12 have been treating me since I moved in ,me thinks a serious commission should be formed by my area MCA aspirant to investigate Mama Njira and her secret army, that is if Wahungu,the aspirant wants my vote .
I must say that plot number 12 has no lady. Contrary to my expectations, all of them are women with kids who are up to no good. They wake up to play at seven in the morning and by nine they are already too dirty for life, moving in. I had envisioned a plot with a beautiful lighskin who would come by and clean my two Sufurias and maybe prepare me a meal or something, but here I am ,living in chaos. There is a daily post-election violence like noise in this place. The person who stays next door has no taste of music and his speaker is so old and rusty. When he gets home each evening, he smiles opening the door and what follows is some fast running Kamba music. I still don’t know his name but I’ve never heard him play anything else, even Christina Shusho’s “Nipe Macho Nione”. Occasionally ,his Girlfriend visits and during such times I don’t get to see him. He behaves like a secret service officer or some under cover cop who only gets put at night to survey and check the token left on every person’s meter box.
I have a serious issue with Mama Njira. My two sufurias had stayed for three weeks without being washed so one day I came from work and found her washing, instead of something like “Si ulete viombo vyako nikuoshee nikimaliza hizi zangu” ,the only thing she could say was “ Unaona venye hapa kuna nyasi mingi, ungekata kata hii ndio ile Mbu ya usiku ipungue” . I looked at her and never said a word for two reason, one was because I have never been awake to see a mosquito and the second reason is that I was surprised at the things that concerns her, Mosquito!, come on woman, you have a husband, hold up your family, think about him and him only at night and not some tiny insects! Halafu ukiachwa hapa utaolewa na hizo mosquito.
Since I moved to plot 12, I have lost a broom and very many pieces of soap. Am that type of bachelor who leaves brooms outside after sweeping each and every Sunday. I suspect Mama Njira ,I have never seen her broom and her house seem to be so clean. She also has a small kid and that is where my soaps maybe disappearing to, if there is an investigation the government should invest in, it is this one, I need to get my brooms back before the general elections, not to mention the soap, that is if the government wants me to Vote, whoever the government is. My life at plot 12 is becoming miserable each day, Mama Njira and her secret battalion are out to kill me slow.
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