"baby am having a block"
She is on my bed. My baby. It is morning. And the raising sun spreads it's golden rays so perfectly on her. And am jealous so I also spread my hands on her. The sun cannot have all the fun!
She knows what a block is, she knows it's when her favorite writer. Me, hehe. Can't write. I guess creativity is like a girl, you can't just force her to come. Talk about biology still calling the shots even after high school.
I handed her my iPad, to read what I had written. I force myself to write sometimes, even during a block. It was a schetch...
After she read it...
"Did you get what I am trying to say?"
I asked her.
Sometimes we really want to do something, I wanted to write something, but it was in my head. My heart... But getting it on paper. Bummer. Besides it was very early in the morning... And we can be lazy creatures sometimes.
"Babes, okay... Let me just tell you..."
There was this time I went to the CID headquarters. I needed my phone tracked, I had lost it during an Incident.
I meet this guy, he works there. He is quite the bustard. I gave him the numbers, you know Samsung Omnia and there trackers. He told me that in order to track it and find out who was with the stollen phone we had to send some money to the sim card. So that the recievers details show. Think registered sim cards. Think mpesa. That is what police investigations have come down to, mpesa.
We walked together, from the office to town. But you know me babes, I trust the police as much as I trust thieves. If I had a gun I wouldnt know who to shot down first, the police or the thieves. But why waste bullets on such scum? I would beat them up with the gun barrel cause if you ask me, they are usually the same. Thieves and the police.
Don't laugh babes, let me prove it.
So, the pretentious bustard, told me he had done criminology, and he hoped to join an NGO, they have better pay there. Frankly, I thought the bustard deserved to be a beggar, leave alone working for the police. You would have thought so to.
He flirted with the lady at mpesa counter, they laughed a bit as I waited there. As I waited for him to con me. He brought me some two half thought of names, on a bloody piece of paper, cut off a newspaper. And told me that those were the names of the two people who had my stollen phone.
I felt he should have a least written the names on a neat plain paper. It would have gone a long way in making him seem believable. But I guess that's what they are taught in police school, to flirt with women at the mpesa counter teller, only to later give people fake reports hand written on old newspaper papers.
Such good news for the tax payer, right?
Even you know it was an obvious lie babe, he must have pocketed the money. Cause months down the line. The bustard with his Criminology diploma still had nothing to show, how could he be working on it for six months?
I had given him everything, the phone numbers of the thieves, the model number for the phone... Heck, I was almost going to give him the color of their socks, all he had to do was track, catch and arrest.
Track, catch and arrest!
The police must have devices to track down thieves. And it can't be mpesa, cause I have access to mpesa, and if they don't have any other sophisticated gadgetry. Please, let the government give all citizens police uniforms. We are all police men.
If all it takes is to send money via mpesa to track down thieves. Why the hell do we pay tax? I can do the police work myself dammit.
"baby, please turn."
I preferred her lying on my chest. Her hand on it. I was talking looking at the ceiling, she listens. I know she was listening. I didn't have to look at her to know it. She is my baby. You know such things about your baby, anyways.
Babes, then there was this other time we were in Nyali. All good things come to an end. The party had come to an end, and it was time to go home. It was late. We were quite a number but still a small circle. The important thing though was that we couldn't fit in one cab, even if three people sat on top of each other, one on the roof and another sat with the driver.
So two tuk tuks were called. And they came.
We filled both and started on the road. By the way, those things don't have shocks. They are painful to the bum.
Being in a tuk tuk is like being in a convertible. Especially when you are in a crowd.
Faster, man faster. Overtake. Come on over take. We urged our driver.
He was soon smiling. We were throwing insults at the others. In the other tuk tuk. Trivial things like how our tuk tuk was faster than theirs. And their driver slower.
It was a tuk tuk race, yes babes it was ridiculous. Oh yes it was. It was completely fun. We screamed, cheered as we crossed the bridge late that night. Thats where we overtook them.
Beautiful lights from beach houses reflected on the ocean, and the breeze was as fresh as the sea. We felt it, didn't I tell you riding in a tuk tuk feels like riding in a convertible?
Everyone was dropped off. We hugged goodbye. We waved at each other.
I live the furthest. So I was left last with the driver.
I exchanged small talk with him, you only scream and race when you are a crowd. I wasnt screaming, but I was happy from the screaming, the driver on the other hand was chatty from the racing. We talked weather and Mombasa.
The reason why you would be on a tuk tuk on that street, is cause it is risky. Babe, can you imagine we found two chics, standing beside the road. Actually in the middle of the road where there was a street light. It was a one way. So it had that petition in the middle, and ofcourse the street light which they stood under, but it was still dark and scary.
The tuk tuk they were in had broken down. The driver was trying to fix it. Somewhere next to the exhaust pipe. Those automobiles are just ridiculous, come to think of it; I think their engines are actually there. Next to the exhaust fumes.
The driver asked whether we could stop. Help them.
Who am I to stop someone from doing a good deed? Who am I to kill ones philanthropic spirit? I was very much up for the idea of him helping them.
Turns out they would have spent the whole night there. He needed help. He didn't know what he was doing to that exhaust pipe, or engine or whatever tuk tuks run with. But when help came. His tuk tuk started immediately. And the girls were back inside. On there way home, safely.
I told him I appreciated people like him, good Samaritans like him. And when he charged me, I gave him triple what he charged me. And I particularly told him that I liked good people. People who change a corner of the world. Even if it is as small as being a good Samaritan on the road.
Who knows what would have happened on that street? To the driver and the girls? If it wasn't for him.
He was happy I tipped him as much. He knows I live to disprove the notion that dictates that 'every good deed does not go unpunished.'
Babes, am also trying to change the world. See that tree outside my window. I am going to go climb it. Pull off a branch and head to see that CID guy who wants to work at some NGO cause it pays better.
I will smack the conning out of him. I will blow punches at him until he developes a brain. Until he understands that, he doesn't deserve to be in that office. He probably earns more than the tuk tuk guy, he is more educated, he mention Criminology didn't he? The tuk tuk guy doesn't know rats ass about Criminology.
But he knows he can't leave two women on the road at a funny street. That's all the criminology he knows.
Babes, I might not have a gun, to fight the demons that roan the streets at night destroying peoples lives.
You might not have the courage to stop on the road at night like the tuk tuk guy to help someone stranded. Sometimes the devils of the night pretend to be damsels in distress, you know.
Every time I meet a coward. Societies scum bag, like that stupid cop. With the criminology degree that even makes him look stupider. I don't hesitate to let him know he is the devil. He is a sorry excuse for a human being. A disease. And if my baby would let me, I would climb that tree, cut off a branch. Walk into his office and beat his sorry ass. Oh I would love to see how surprised he would be! But I guess he has a gun, so...
But every time, I meet someone, braver than me, like the tuk tuk driver. I take my time and all that I have to represent humans, the world, in showing appreciation, in whatever form. Like giving him my whole wallet, and reminding him that I am giving him my wallet cause he is a good man. Remind him that, tell him exactly why you are being generous to him. So that he helps another two girls and a driver stranded on a funny street.
See I am not trying to change the whole world babe, I love obscenely sleek cars, big houses and travel. Baby, am just trying to change a corner of it. And the corner I change might just be throwing a little motivation at someone who is as brave as a tuk tuk guy. Or throwing a stone at that idiotic cop with his shh shhh-chupid Criminology Diploma.
Who else out there is trying to not let any good deed go punished? Who else out there in their quest for big cars, boats and personal chefs takes time to stop on the road of life and reward every good deed?
Brave. A hero. A shadow warrior; I want to be that tuk tuk driver sometimes.
