Mr Survivor: Queen and Mrembo are separately accused of planning my ‘death’
As the melodrama continues, I am using silence to gather what people think about me and how their attitude towards me affects my political and financial reputation in Happy Valley.
After my ‘death and resurrection’ on Easter Saturday, the rumour mills of Happy Valley engaged their fertile imaginations into overdrive in their endeavour to explain the unique phenomenon. You see, Happy Valley is a melting pot of intelligentsia of all colours and shades. As the conspiracy theories flew right, left and centre, my fame snowballed to legendary proportions, earning me a new moniker: the ‘Jesus’ of Happy Valley.
On Easter Monday, after two days of whispers, pregnancy burst at the seams of the dress. Green Valley became the supreme court of Happy Valley where lawyers and judges competed to prove who between my Queen and Mrembo was responsible for my attempted murder. Mrembo’s only remaining disciples were there too. I watched the court drama with great delight.
“That woman is dangerous. I have always said that she was going to kill him but people said I was jealous. Now see,” said Mhesh. He has never forgiven Queen for beating his wife in the chama elections. Anything that would bring down my Queen would be a plus to his wife’s battered political fortunes.
“Who doesn’t know that woman is evil? It is just a matter of days before the fella is sent across the bridge,” said Chairman. He is Mrembo’s mfugo and has not forgiven me for leading a historic boycott at Mrembos.
“When someone’s wife rises in politics, church and business, it is a clear message that she has sponsors in high places. Why wait for death? Unajipatia shughuli. Majuu iko!Na vile wanawake ni wengi!” said Master, Mrembo’s jack of all trades.
“Who is this woman you are talking about? I don’t trust some people I know!” said Mathey, the proprietress of Green Valley. Pin drop silence enveloped the place as everyone waited for the three to substantiate.
“Of course, that is the dirty work of his wife! Who else? Only those with eyes for decoration and brains of a hen can miss that!” shouted Mhesh.
“That is just hot air. Look for Zinjanthropuses to fool. We know someone is not happy that Mr. Survivor took all her customers,” said Sumbua.
“Yes!Yes! That is the truth. Mrembo went to Kitui to get a kamuti to protect her business,” shouted Omosh. Omosh is my mechanic-cum driver and has a job to protect.
“Nonsense! Was Mrembo at the scene of crime? Say that again!” Chairman threatened.
“Stop selling fear. It is true, Mrembo went to Kitui to get kamuti. Do what you do when you are angry. I don’t buy fear!” shouted Sumbua.
At that juncture, Chairman realised that he was losing. Sumbua is the type that does not have a reverse gear. You only silence him by either killing him or befriending him. He chose to befriend him. “I know you want beer. Give him the big one!” shouted Chairman.
“The fact is that one woman wanted to kill Mr. Survivor but a different one might carry the cross,” said Wambu, Mathey’s lead usher.
“You can see what I have always said. Women are a problem. Look at me, no wife, no woman, no troubles,” said Master. Master has never shown any interest in a woman.
“People with no cows should not attend, leave alone talk, in a cattle deep meeting!” said Professor.
Everyone laughed, bringing the otherwise tense atmosphere to a light mood. It was clear from the near fisticuffs exchange that half of Happy Valley was blaming my Queen while the other half was blaming Mrembo for my ‘attempted murder’.
In the whole melodramatic scenario, only yours truly new the truth and nothing but the truth. You see, my embarrassment quotient snapped when the bishop started to strip me. Imagine being stripped naked in my own home and there was very little I could do about it! This hypnotised me. Whatever happened to my body, I decided to flow with it to its logical conclusion.
As the melodrama continues, I am using silence to gather what people think about me and how their attitude towards me affects my political and financial reputation in Happy Valley. And unless the conspiracy theories attract the attention of the police, I shall allow Queen and Mrembo to carry their own crosses. It is a big lesson to both of them on how not to mess with me. For Queen, it will teach her not to believe in rumours. For Mrembo, it will teach her not to believe in Chairman, her mfugo and Mhesh, a perpetual debtor—two fellas who add no value to her business.
For now, I relish in the glory of my latest moniker, an additional feather to my cap. Yes, ‘Jesus’ of Happy Valley.
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