“Hey, that was a great performance,” I slow down shouting to the oncoming ‘Mzungu’.
“You liked it?” He asks, elated.
“Oh yes I did, we did.”
“I didn’t expect you were such a big group…”
It turns out we have more to talk about. I pull over. Must give way. Other drivers have no business with the Mzungu.
After about a ten minutes amicable talk , it is time to get going. But ,wait a minute. My book, yes, THE INNOCENCE PREDATORS.
“Do you like reading?” I ask Brian. of course by now I know his name.
“I have quite a collection of books, mostly fiction.” He gives an indication that he is good reader.
Then, not wanting to take much of his time again, I introduce and offer my novel. “Tell me how you like it.”
“But emh, how will I , or are you around for Xmas?”
Xmas is one week shy.
“No, I am going home to the village. And you, what are you doing over Xmas?”
“No plans …” he says and explains that he is in Kenya for holiday so he would just be in Nairobi doing whatever every dawn offered.
“Come to my village for Xmas.” I throw an invitation without preamble. Without analysis. Without much thought!
“What? Are you serious?” He is probably perturbed. I think he is. Who invites a total stranger to their home? For Xmas!
“Yes, I am.” Can’t take back the invite, can I ? I don’t even have any persuading reasons to do that. The Mzungu looks honourable, a good person, ‘judging by the cover’. And after all he spent a whole two hours entertaining us (my organisation) at our end of year party. He can’t be a thug.
“Well, I will think about it,” he says. Positive tone.
I give my cellphone number.
Later in the evening, a call alert.
“Hello Wanjiku, I hope you got home safely.”
“Yes I did..”
“It was nice meeting you…”
Before our good nights he asks me to text my email address…
I check my emails the following morning. None from Brian. I check my email at regular intervals then. None from Brian. Did he flick out? who wouldn’t? One would need more than guts to accept an invitation to the village by a total stranger.
I have a day off the following day. I don’t check my emails as regularly. But there is none from Brian by mid morning . Not that I expect there to be. In fact, I don’t even think about it.
I check my emails again at 10 o’clock in the evening as I make union with my bed.
Subject :”What just happened ????”
I don’t know you well yet, but I believe, already, that you are a brave, adventurous woman! Imagine inviting a total stranger to Christmas with the family! And a Mzungu! Anyway, I am honoured. And I accept. Asante sana!…
We are at Juja shopping mall; my brother, Brian and I. Earlier, Brian had indicated that he would like to do some shopping for my parents.
He picks a shopping basket. I don’t. My Brother doesn’t either.
Brian suggestively asks for ideas of what items to buy. “…sugar, floor…”
We look for the section that houses these grocery and leave Brian here for him to make his choices freely.
I had done a comprehensive shopping yesterday but there is always something more to buy in presence of a shop. And money. We walk to the toys’ section. We can pick something for a nephew, for another nephew and for a niece. Brian joins us after settling what he wants to buy in his basket.
We start settling for this and that toy. We are holding our selection in our hands since we have no basket yet. Brian stays with us for a little while but an idea strikes him.
“Hey, I will go pay for my shopping and wait for you outside.” He prompts me.
Once he is out of the ear shot, I quip, to my brother, “May be he fears that we might expect him to pay for our shopping.”
“He is a Mzungu and we are Africans- he has to be careful… and now that he thinks about it, why didn’t we pick our own shopping basket?’’ My brother laughs.
“So that we could throw items in his basket and make it difficult for him to escape paying for our shopping as well”
TO BE CONTINUED