Tuesday 26 February 2019

GRACE TO GRASS

Bottomline: Gambling was a rich man’s play till the entry of online gambling which is open to all as opposed to the traditional casino gambling which was a preserve of the rich.Sports betting has proven overtime to be a poor man’s pain and a rich man’s profit
On my way home after a busy day running necessary errands in the city, I rarely go to the city unless when it is very necessary. As I strolled home after alighting at the bus stop, down here we call it a stage. An aroma of roasted maize provoked my appetite forcing me to make an impromptu stop over at one of the many roast-maize stands in the neighborhood.
It had been a while since my teeth were put to test on their sharpness on matters grinding in a chewing exercise, I don’t remember the last time I chewed maize or sugarcane.So I joined the already long human that was building up waiting for their maize of choice to be charcoal customized to their specific heat temperatures.
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The human traffic at the stand mostly comprised of middle aged women and men in their sunset years, this was not a sponsor meet up point by the way. I later learnt from Tosh (at least that’s how they were calling him) roasted maize had numerous health benefits not limited preserving healthy skin,lowering blood sugar and cholesterol levels, during pregnancy, energy enhancer, miracle for those who are underweight and reducing the risk of anemia.
Now I understood the customers demographics, many were there thanks to medical recommendations from their personal doctors to mitigate or avert a potential medical condition.
Tosh was too polished and well informed I could tell from the way he handled his clientele so I thought unemployment forced him to heat condition monocotyledons uniformly for a living. In this country thanks to the ever rising unemployment levels finding a university graduate doing those odd menial graduate ‘trainee’ jobs isn’t news. Last time a first class honors holder in bachelor’s degree in economics and statistics Ruth Jemutai was doing menial jobs back at her village in Baringo only for her plight to be highlighted by the media.
We all know of that graduate friend or relative somewhere who is selling insurance,brokering sand,vending water, teaching at a local high school as an untrained teacher, extorting matatus and touting with a Bachelors of Science degree in Computer Science and Statistics or those difficult courses we pursue at university level where getting supplementaries is normal yet they managed a clean second class honors upper division.
A few metres from his stand there was a group of motorbike riders busy analyzing the Midweek jackpot in their bid to be the country’s next millionaire. They were arguing amongst themselves each trying to come up with a list of 13 possible outcomes that are likely to propel them out of poverty.
“They do this every Monday and Tuesday for the midweek jackpot and from Thursday to Saturday mid morning when they analyze the mega jackpot. No one ever wins only two of them have managed to get bonuses which they blew away on women and alcohol.” You know how these ‘nduthi’ people (Motorbike riders) have a high affinity to skirts and alcohol as a leisure activity. Even when they win huge amounts of money their lives remain the same, only disappearing for a few days after they have won the cash before coming back with stories of how they don’t know where money they won disappeared to.
Most of them are employed by businessmen who hire out motorbikes expecting Ksh 500 everyday which is peanuts considering the amounts they make thanks to the pervasiveness of the motor bikes in the transport industry. Some make close to Ksh 3,000 a  day but live in abject poverty thanks to gambling. Imagine someone taking part in all those quick money making platforms from Lotto, Tatua, Sportpesa, Betin to Betpawa.
Listen to me young man I too had gambling problems that made me lose everything I had in life from family to investments. During my daily interactions with customers many of whom have continuously questioned why I appear to be well informed yet am roasting maize on the roadside. I never like talking about the circumstances that catapulted me to my present situation.
What started as a simple way to make cash having been introduced by a friend to sports betting I started out placing bets with small amounts. My first bets were coming through as I rarely lost, then the devil started talking as I listened carefully to his marching orders. Before I knew it I was placing bets with more than Ksh 100,000 a day. At first the returns continued to trickle in as the money doubled after just 90 minutes of ‘patience’.
It was a good investment, my wife questioned where the money was coming from being the christian she was I couldn’t mention anything close to gambling. I told her it was from some business deals I did sometime back. As lame as the answer was she let it go without follow up questions on the nature of the business though her face had many question marks.
Things took a turn when I started to lose bets I thought were ‘sure’ bets back to back ‘kweli mpira hudunda’ football has unpredictable outcomes. The more I lost the more the urge to increase my stakes boiled inside me. Driven by emotions and not reason I continued to place more bets to recover what I lost. I kept on losing back to back until I started gambling with our entire life savings, when the savings were depleted I jumped ship to school funds. We had a private school in Pipeline estate,Nairobi which was doing well it was valued to close to Ksh 4 million.
My wife started noticing behavioral changes, I became angry over nonsensical issues spending more time in bars as I followed matches closely waiting for my investments to mature, some came through most didn’t. Before I could realise I had started taking alcohol to see me through the midnight and 2 am South American soccer fixtures. Little did I realise I was drifting away from my family completely becoming a stranger.
My wife at one point confronted me about my spending when she realized our savings account was drained,cash from the school account had been withdrawn and some electronics were missing from the house. This confrontation was heated as we verbally exchanged abuses, since I wasn’t winning this shouting competition I hit her to shut her up of which she did only for her to wake up the following day packed her bags as she took off with the children.
I had no time to go after her, there are many women outside here who are looking for men to take up their surnames, so I consoled myself. Furthermore there were more pressing financial issues that need to be sorted out through additional investments and proper analysis of upcoming games, this time there will be no room for mistakes.
Her exit from my life was the final nail in my coffin, the school was bankrupt as the bank towed two Nissan Matatus which were school vans as parents pulled out their children from my school considering the deteriorating academic levels. I could not pay the teachers thus they left in droves, the school was officially under receivership so it had to close down. An investment built over years through shear sweat,pain and struggle had gone down the drain in no time.
This addiction made me to sell all my electronics including my phone at a through away price as I orchestrated a major comeback which never materialized. Everything was lost I moved from a two bedroom house in Tassia estate, Embakasi to a single room in Pipeline which I struggled with rent. My life had taken an unexpected turn, I even started gambling in those Chinese coin operated gambling machines since I couldn’t afford online sports betting.
With no income generating activity, no money to gamble I turned to friends and relatives for financial bail outs to bankroll my already scaled down gambling activities with a promise of paying up soon, a promise I never honored thus I was shunned away. Trying to contact my wife proved futile,like a bird she had flown away she never wanted anything to do with me hiding my children away.
I turned to menial jobs to make ends meet, this was my turning point thats why am here selling roasted maize. Never again will I turn to gambling as a way of getting quick money, you too should keep away from gambling activities there is no shortcut to riches.
Gambling companies only show you the glamorous side of the story they want you to buy whereby a few people have won ‘small’ amounts of cash running in millions not the other ugly side of the story where millions have lost billions struggling to finance this addiction. Have you seen any support centre for people with gambling addiction in this country? But we have mental institutions everywhere to deal with mental illnesses !!!
Our short cut mentality to riches provides fertile breeding ground for the gambling industry to thrive in this country with new gambling companies sprouting everyday. Media adverts today have 90% gambling content with gambling companies competing to outshine each other suffocating radio stations, television networks, websites, blogs, magazines and newspapers with their ‘Overnight Millionaires tales’ and other short stories.
Out of 10 billboards in this country seven are advertising gambling activities, two are marketing alcoholic drinks and that remaining one is for the remaining sectors of our economy. How do you expect hardworking youths yet their continuous exposure to gambling messages has zombified them already?
Like religion gambling offers hope, in a society where youths don’t fit anywhere politically,socially and economically they turn to gambling which offers hope for upward economic and social mobility when you win the jackpot, maybe you will gain political superiority if you wish to get into politics. In this country one can’t be elected to any political office with empty pockets.
Almost forgot to mention I told him to “keep change’ (balance) to promote his hustle as I walked home grinding the maize pondering how devastating gambling can turn one’s life inside out…….

COMMUNITY HUSBANDS

Bottomline: His ‘riff raff’ extended family that continuously micromanages your marriage from what is being cooked in the kitchen to what is being served in the bedroom.
Marriage if very complicated in the Traditional African set up when you apply modern day mannerisms. The more you try shifting to modernity the more things remain the same hence you end up being frustrated bitterly walking away with a train of kids on your back thanks to your community husband and his ‘riff raff’ extended family that continuously micromanages your marriage from what is being cooked in the kitchen to what is being served in the bedroom.
The last time this term made international headlines was when Citizen TV news anchor Lilian Muli went berserk throwing tantrums at Shabana FC boss Jared Nevaton Ombogi all over social media accusing him of being a community husband thanks to his ‘promiscuity’ or is it having many women in his life before announcing she is single and back in the dating market in a long Instagram post full of ‘Kizungu Mingi na catwalk’, cat-walking English in short.

This clearly shows she hasn’t met the real community husbands of our generation. The day she will encounter a real community husband she will stop her vagrancy running back to Nevaton on her knees begging to be taken back since dealing with her version of a community husband is better than handling the real community husband with the following baggage;
Brother who never leaves; There is this brother who moved in three or four years ago, immediately after college yet he has refused to move out even after your husband secured him a Ksh 30,000 job through a longtime friend two months after his college course.
Insisting that he is still saving as he looks for a three bedroom house whose rent ranges between Ksh 5,000- Ksh 8,000 in the city, in short he is not boarding anytime soon. He never contributes anything towards the household budget. He has never bought salt or refilled the gas.
His habit of putting his feet on the sitting room’s table or your favorite sofa set as he complains how the stew isn’t tasty enough, has a lot of salt, your chapatis aren’t round enough as her mother’s and the tea has more water than milk ; such ‘compliments’  coming from a person who doesn’t have a girlfriend.
Knocking on your door in the wee morning hours back from his Friday drinking spree shouting your name continuously blabbering “Anne,Anne open my brothers house.”  She keeps on reminding you that everything in that house belongs to his brother forgetting that you hustled together with that brother of his from a single room in Kangemi to your current four bedroom house in Lavington.
Every-time you have a minor disagreement over nonsensical issues like why he left his socks on the dining table he reminds you of how many cows ‘they’ allegedly herded to your parents house to secure your housewife services in the name of bride price. Furthermore this mongrel expects you to do his laundry, ‘change’ his diapers, wash his hands before and after meals as if he married you, NKT.
Slay Sister; Her campus slay queen sister visits every weekend without fail as she comes to collect shopping and pocket money. She signs in your house every Wednesday evening as soon as her weekly lectures are over only to sign out on Monday morning as you both leave for work, she is dropped off at the college main entrance.
She can’t wash dishes, clear the table after every meal, clean the house, assist you in preparing meals or even do her brother’s laundry yet there is a washing machine. Every time you ask for her help in performing general household duties she will give you that gazing top down look asking you “Were we married together” clearly communicating to you she was no part of your wedding give away.
Lying on the sofa-set all day as you are placed under Telenovela arrest walking around with the TV remote even visiting the washroom with it. She hides the remote whenever she goes to sleep ensuring you only watch what she wants.The only time you are friends is when your husband, her brother gives you money to visit the salon for hairstyle change,manicure and pedicure services.
The only way to get rid of her is asking Satan ‘Saitan’ to send a guy driving a Subaru living somewhere in Lang’ata to confuse her before placing her in the family way (make her pregnant) after which you will put her in your daily prayers so that the guy marries her thus leaving your house for good never to return again.
Battalion of Uncles; who regularly make him the chief guest in all funeral committees,dowry payment mobilization and clan fundraisers. His salary is committed to many clan undertakings putting a lot of strain to your family finances. All their expenditure revolves around his salary turning him to a zombie as they remotely control him thus prioritizing their needs whereas his family welfare comes last.
Your children school fees will always be paid in the last minute after you have made a lot of noise prompting him to pay up so that you shut up. Buying only the ‘necessary’ household shopping in small quantities a situation that occasionally culminates to the running out of matchsticks, sugar, cooking oil and salt before month end. This sort of arrangement is responsible for stagnation of upward financial mobility which has entrenched poverty in the society.
Trooping Aunts; are busy looking for a second wife thanks to your refusal of adding more kids each to be named after them and their husbands, his uncles. Before you were married they used to be bought ‘Kitenges’ and other assorted goodies by your husband every time he visited the countryside. Your entry into his life has complicated matters as they no longer get the assorted city goodies yet you have refused to give life to more than three children due to the current changing economic dynamics which they won’t understand no matter how you try to explain using both diagrams and illustrations.
This is viewed as a strategy (if you are from a different community) to suffocate the community’s numbers ahead of the next general elections hampering their already pregnant chances of clinching the Presidency. They will often lament how your work is just to fatten up eating his resources.
Shameless Cousins; who call daily asking for everything that crosses their minds from salt,sugar flour, dowry payment boost, rent arrears, school fees, money to treat a sick dog or buy nappier grass to feed some cow back at their rural home. They always believe your husband MUST help them all the time failure to which all the blame will be heaped on you for allegedly inciting him against them yet you weren’t there when they were suffering with him.
They will oftenly accuse you of using a combination of witchcraft,black magic, African Chemistry and Voodoo to blindfold their cousin as you have sat on a ‘Chapati’ before feeding it to him (when he refuses to help) thus controlling him like a puppet every time they meet during the annual December family gatherings forgetting you are a very spiritual woman with a fortified Roman Catholic background.
Flotilla of nephews and nieces; who are sent a week to the opening day to blackmail him every now and then by his extended family so that he writes a school fee cheque, gives pocket money and do some serious shopping as they go back to resume their academic sessions.
Failure to financially commit will lead to undertones of how arrogant he is after they sacrificed their resources as a family, clan and community for him to reach where he is today. “If it wasn’t for us right now he wouldn’t have gone to the city where he found that lady he lives (YOU) with who diverts all of his resources to their homestead and her relatives,” they will lament.
Clinging choice; Every man has this woman he was supposed to marry until another woman came in the line of fire ‘spoiling’ the arithmetic forcing the man to abdicate the commitment,retract implicating statements before making a tan(theta) U-turn towards the other woman whom she marries, this woman is you.
She will take advantage of the cosy relationship she enjoys with his family as she was the wife apparent before you brought about confusion. She will be pushed by his aunts,uncles,cousins and mother in law to increase her efforts in taking back what was rightfully hers by snatching him away from you thus she calls daily pretending she is troubled and only he can sort her out if they meet urgently.
Possessive Mother in law; who hates you for stealing her favorite son whom she hasn’t let go and isn’t willing to let go anytime soon thus she will always pick fights for no good reason. Stating how his son has lost a lot of weight thanks to your poor kitchen skills which has lowered his productivity in the bedroom yet it is obvious from his #TBT photos you have over performed to the extent his close friends think you are a magician after cleaning him thoroughly.
Indecisive Father in law; who is never in control of anything thus fence sitting allowing nature to take its course. He never intervenes when you are under siege as long as his wife has said North its North even when in actual sense its South. He only calls his son when he needs money to quench his booze thirst.
Panel of Village elders; burdening him with community projects from drilling boreholes, tree planting, gabion building, title deed processing Et al. Failure to engineer these projects will be seen as disrespect to elders thus he will be cursed before being banished from the community leaving him with no option but toeing the line.
Swarming village-mates; who expect him to pay school fees for every child who joins a national school or proceeds to any institution of higher learning be it a college or university. They assume this is his responsibility as he owes the village after they fund-raised for him when he joined university. Were it not for the ‘Harambee’ fundraiser he would have seen everything university on ViuSasa.





EQUAL OPPORTUNITY EMPLOYER

Bottomline: in this country education used to be the KEY to SUCCESS until sex,corruption & connections became the padlocks unless you part your legs, part with money or a relative plays part you can’t get meaningful employment.

A few hours ago I was from my 42nd interview, three year after clearing campus. By the way I am scheduled to go for one in a few minutes time,furthermore, I have like two other interviews slated for the same day this week which am still deliberating with the voices in my head on whether or not to honour their summons.

My friends believe am in bed with lady luck since at least am given a fighting chance in those interviews unlike them who don’t even get those we regret to inform you messages, usually web generated turning down your application by prospective employers acknowledging their waste of ink, paper, interest and time

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The response is still the same as the previous ones, “we have gone through your papers, your presentation was excellent, we will get back to you in two weeks time.” These are usually the last words I ever hear from the organization.

Do these interview panels really know what they make us go through? Hope they don’t, because if they do then they allow interviewees to go through a rigorous process yet they already have a preferred list of candidates amongst within their ranks, then the hottest furnace in hell has been reserved for them.

Though some relatives will still hold the view that you are a dimwit who couldn’t make it past a job interview even after making it to the shortlist, little do they know that the interview process was a public participation exercise meant to improve the organization’s public relations; interview all select the ‘best’ scatter the rest.

How does an organization advertise for two positions shortlist 1000 people with similar qualifications under the pretense of “we are looking for the best candidate” or is the sitting allowance the motivating factor. With their ‘We are an equal opportunity employer,canvassing will lead to automatic disqualification,’ which is the corporate lie as canvassing leads to automatic employment.

Am not an expert in HR techniques and practices, but I bet through document analysis of the applicants CV’s they can select 10 applicants to square it out for the two vacancies saving the remaining 990 the cost of printing cover letters, Cv’s, Certificate of good conduct, HELB clearance and credit clearance certificate to show you honour your debts as if we live in a country where you can just take a loan without collateral. Acquiring all these documents is an expensive and time consuming undertaking.

Going through the organizations website to memorize its mission, vision, core values, structure, heads of departments, history of the organization and notable milestones is not an easy task considering you have to conceptualize them overnight through serious cramming as you await the interview the following morning.

In this interview I met Josh, who was 33 years masters degree holder who had first class honors at undergraduate level,  yes a first class 33 year old who was still competing with us ; people of second class honors upper division who were noisemakers throughout campus. Who clusters someone who got a first class with the rest !!!!

As we were lined up waiting for ‘slaughter’, I got to ask Josh what he was doing here since that job was not well lucrative compared to his academic qualifications. It was a two year contract with Ksh 25,000 as remuneration before tax is taken away by the government, after removing all deductions HELB (Higher Education Loans Board) included  one goes home with close to Ksh 16,000 which is supposed to run him or her throughout the month that’s Ksh 16,000 divided by 30 brings the daily expenditure Ksh 534 per day.

HELB was supposed to be a token of appreciation for excelling in Kenya Certificate of Secondary Education (KCSE) but now the government through education Cabinet Secretary Amina Mohammed has circumnavigated the ‘agreement’ issuing a ‘shoot to kill order’ to the police against HELB defaulters after branding all graduates potential economic terrorists.

Chemistry wasn’t easy by the way so CS Amina we will pay the loan when we get the money or when we go into politics where it’s mandatory for one to have the HELB clearance certificate. Furthermore, everyone in this country has a debt even the government owes China but we haven’t reported them to Interpol,CIA,FBI,Scotland Yard et al so relax madam.

Back to Josh, he has been in between internships since completing his degree, here I was thinking all first class ninjas were directly sponsored for masters as they are sharpened to join the career academician ranks. Here he was still tarmacking with no hope of being an assistant lecturer.

“I have been an intern for close to two years in this parastatal,so I thought when a vacancy comes up I would be considered. Three weeks ago, a vacancy came up since one of the department’s staff had been redeployed to another state owned enterprise. The HR summoned me to his office to inform me of the new development thus I was to take over her duties as I wait to be confirmed as a permanent and pensionable staff.

My patience had finally paid off, two years wait is no joke my brother, you have to be overly optimistic considering the Simsim remuneration of interns in government establishments.”

“I took up the role of a civil servant on an intern’s stipend performing the duties exemplarily as I knew it was a matter of days before the letter of appointment lands on my desk. However, ‘Bindu Bichenjanga’ things change….”

“What changed,” I asked as he paused

After a moment of silence he resumed, “On a Monday, the week I was to be confirmed I found my desk had a new occupant.”

“Which desk , the intern’s desk,” I asked

“Not the interns desk come on, my new desk the permanent and pensionable staff desk I had been promoted to two weeks ago. All my things had been sent back to the sender, the interns desk by the door where I had been operating from for the past two years.”

There was grave silence in the office as I went in nobody was willing to give me an explanation of what had happened, was I the one next in line what had just happened. I greeted the new staff member with a plastic smile though inside me I was burning with rage.

She was far much younger as I returned to my intern’s post pretending to be fine. Being fine was the last thing I could have been that Monday morning, so I tried to patiently sit out the day but it wasn’t possible without a proper explanation of my ‘demotion’. Had I done anything wrong, I kept asking myself as I reflected the two weeks probation period where I was in an acting capacity.

As I was going through the newspapers doing the daily media monitoring and analysis the state of my mind couldn’t allow me to do anything constructive so I went to the Human Resource office to see the person in-charge to seek clarification of what had just transpired. Unfortunately he wasn’t there so I went back to my intern’s post perform lighter duties as the day tortoises off.

My colleagues were in shock though they couldn’t do anything, it was a matter out of their control. Nobody knew who brought her in so they kept their calm as they sympathized with me encouraging me over lunch break that another chance will just come up, come up from where and after how long I asked myself.

My colleague Martin had other ideas of how they could sabotage Janice,the new staff member so that she quits or seeks lighter duties elsewhere. An idea I was supporting considering how ‘unfair’ she just came in and took my place however, Saito had other ideas as he called for caution with his short statement “when you see a tortoise on a table ask yourself who placed it there.” “Anaweza kuwa sosi ya mdosi tujipate kwa noma hatujawai ona’ she might be the big boss side chic/property who might put us in one hell of a problem we have never encountered, so sabotage was out of the question.

“So what did you do,” I asked

“I left” he answered

“Just like that,” he replied

Yes, In the evening I just picked up what was necessary from my intern’s desk then never reported to work the following morning and have never went back since then.

“What of your recommendation letter, didn’t they call you” I asked

“To hell with the recommendation letter, do you think they might put in some nice about my contribution to the organization, they never called or bothered to ask where I had disappeared to.” he answered

The HR conducting the interview came out, ” Sospeter Shiundu you are next so have your credentials in order.”

As I was arranging my curriculum vitae,academic certificates and other supporting credentials Josh told me he would be leaving for the Yemen next month as a security guard if he won’t get this contract as he was sick and tired of these job interviews.

Asking him what a masters holder who had first class honors at undergraduate level would be doing in war torn SanaŹ½a as a security guard. He replied as he wished me all the best in the interview, “in this country education used to be the KEY to SUCCESS until sex,corruption & connections became the padlocks unless you part your legs, part with money or a relative plays part you can’t get meaningful employment.”

TUSSLE PART 1 OF 4

Bottomline: The compensation ran in millions but I haven’t seen even a single cent for a child I carried in my womb for 9 months after which I single handedly raised for the better part of his life as the dad passed away when he was still in lower primary.
Waiting for the lift to reach the ground floor, the lift wasn’t forthcoming. Some of the citizenry were impatient enough to take the staircase in a bid to test their fitness levels.
There was no way I was taking the staircase to the 11th floor let me just wait for the lift. I can’t  soak myself in sweat thanks to the staircase on my way to an officially unofficial appointment,furthermore, am fit enough thanks to the regular morning runs, let the middle aged french fries eating adults get rid of the excess body fats in their bodies through the staircase exercise. I was in no hurry whatsoever compared to most of them who were running errands for their respective organizations.
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The disgruntled members of the public who were seemingly angered by the lift delay left one by one with the usual nothing in this country ever works properly anyway look written all over their faces. Only two of us from the crowd were left staring at the lift on the ground floor.
“Nowadays government buildings don’t have waiting lobbies at the ground floor where we could be seated waiting for the lift, during our days there used to be lobbies at the ground floor in every government building, it seems systemic corruption has ‘eaten’ all that away.” She said.
Which floor are you headed to she asked, “11th floor I replied to see my uncle who is a civil servant attached at the Ministry of Public Service, Youth and Gender Affairs.” softly I replied.
Ooh those are the guys who oversaw the massive looting christened NYS season one and two I hope you are not going there to orchestrate and mastermind season three she jokingly remarked.
I smiled as I told her my uncle had just been brought in from the Ministry of Mining to clear the mess that had soiled the reputation of the once noble entity that offered a lifeline with lifetime technical skills to many youths but was now turned to a cash cow with bureaucrats and bourgeoisies milking it at will thanks to the vulnerability of the integrated financial management system (IFMIS).
She was pretty informed for a lady in her late 60’s armed with the day’s newspaper which she was reading as we were waiting for the lift. Now that she had known what brought me to the building I also ask her the same question,so politely I asked,” Mum what brings you to the city.”
Most women her age only visit the city to seek ‘medical intervention’. Their grandchildren always visit them once or twice a year mostly during the prolonged 3rd term holiday which begins somewhere in October all through to December.
“I am here to see my nephew,he too is a civil servant in the Ministry of Labour, Social Security and Services on the 14th floor.”she remarked. Is it about your retirement benefits or your husband benefits. Her reply is what shocked me most…..
“What’s your name?” she asked
I replied Sospeter,
“Sospeter who…..”
Sospeter Shiundu
She smiled, you are from our side of the rift valley, at this point I knew my second name was the determinant whether she would continue to open up or our brief ‘friendship’ we had built in the last 10 minutes would end prematurely. Though we were from different ethnic groups, I could tell from her Swahili accent ,you all know how this coastal language brings out our various dialects thanks to pronunciations “Matamshi’.
There is this lady my son married; shocked by this description of her ‘daughter in law’ I keenly listened to her reasons for visiting the city which initially didn’t seem that serious to me until that description of her daughter in law.
She met this lady in the city they hurriedly moved in together the way this fast food generation of yours operates nowadays no courtship period. Children began flowing cementing their relationship with my grandchildren thus I began accepting her slowly as I developed a softer spot towards her thanks to my grandchildren.
Initially I never liked the lady but my son stood by her hence I began building some sort of relationship with her over time. Accepting her as part of my family by embracing her as my daughter in law was tough but I swallowed the bitter pill considering she was from a community I had very bad experiences with when I was living in the city.
Intermarriages in this country work sometimes but most times they don’t considering the differences in our diverse cultural backgrounds. I come from the other side of the Rift Valley thus I would have preferred  if my son would have married from our side of the Rift Valley.
However, he married from the other side of the Rift Valley thanks to the current urban upbringing that enables you to meet people from diverse ethnic backgrounds.During our days intermarriages were very rare mostly if it involved a member of a community from the other side of the Rift Valley, we were warned upfront during our upbringing not to bring a potential suitor from the other side of the valley.
If you go against the grain, you are on your own thus being deemed an outcast. To us the Rift Valley was not only a natural geographic trench it was also a warning.
Back to my son, he lost his life in the battle of Kulbiyow on 27th January 2017 may his soul rest in peace. He hadn’t worked for even 10 years, with tearful eyes she pulls out her handkerchief from her handbag as she wipes off tears about to flood her face. The government did well to give us compensation which was part of his benevolence fund set aside in case he lost his life on active duty.This is where the problem began and her true colors came out…
The compensation was to be divided between the wife and the kin’s immediate family in a ratio to be agreed upon by both sides. Since his father also went to join the Lord a long time ago, I was the immediate family member apart from his siblings who could step in to append my signature on the compensation form.
I was so overwhelmed by his death since we were very close to the extent I could not think about compensation. My mind was fully occupied with how I was going to give him a befitting send off and life after his departure being my favorite son.
We agreed to divide the compensation on an 80% -20% arrangement, she was to take the 80% so that she may use it to take care of their children. The compensation ran in millions but I haven’t seen even a single cent for a child I carried in my womb for 9 months after which I raised him alone for the better part of his life as the dad passed away when he was still in lower primary.
She took advantage of the situation my susceptibility circumnavigating the agreement shortchanging me and my children ripping us off the compensation before disappearing in the wind.
Like a bird she flew away changing  phone numbers every time I got her new number. I have no need for the money it was her husbands benefits all I want to have a relationship with my grandchildren she can get married to another person for all I care.
My nephew knows his brother, they are longtime friends since they attended the same high school and university. I came to see him so that he can assist me in tracking down my grandchildren whom I haven’t seen for more than two years. The last time I saw them was during the burial of my son, their father. His son takes after him thus always bringing back memories of our time together.
The lift finally came down we went in,I alighted on the 11th floor we exchanged pleasantries as she warned me against marrying women fro the other side of the rift valley more so if I met them in the city. I bid her goodbye wishing her all the best  she hopes to get her slice of the loaf…
Part two will focus on a widow’s perspective…..