After Branton’s exit, enter Theophilas. Pray, what am I supposed to do with him?
We really tried to stay peacefully with Theophilas and his brother Japhlet, but it was difficult.
If you have been a friend of Mwalimu Andrew for a long time, then you know Theophilas. You may not remember exactly who he was, but you have likely encountered him here. For the newbies, Theophilas is not an Old Testament biblical name; he is my sister Yunia's son. Yunia has two sons, Theophilas and Japhlet. If you remember, the two, who are slightly older than Branton, used to visit me quite often when they were younger.
Whenever my sister Yunia saw an opportunity, she would dispatch the boys to me. Usually, they would arrive walking, with only the clothes they were wearing, carrying no money, and not even a gift from her.
But on their return, Yunia expected them to at least be on a boda boda, wearing new clothes and carrying gifts for her family – and household shopping. This never went down well between us, but you know big sisters; they are deputy parents!
“Who was taking care of you when you were growing up, Dre?” Yunia once asked me when I complained about this behaviour. “It was me!” she answered even before I could respond. She reminded me that my parents were so busy taking care of other children—Ford and Caro, the infamous Mwisho Wa Lami’s CS for Misinformation, Miscommunication, and Broadcasting Lies.
We really tried to stay peacefully with Theophilas and his brother Japhlet, but it was difficult. It didn’t help that they weren’t the most cooperative boys to have around. They just weren’t helpful! Unlike Branton's and crew = Electina, Honda, and Sospeter - who do all perform household chores, Theophilas was brought up to believe that work is done by girls. Their daily routine was simple: wake up, eat, go play, come back to eat, go play more, come back and sleep. Repeat every day! Simple things like taking a bath were not on their list of favourite activities.
Needless to say, Theophilas and Japhlet became persona non grata in my home. Any attempt to bring them over for visits was met with solid reasons: “With the two girls around—Honda and Electina—and the two boys—Sospeter and Branton—we do not have space to host another person.”
As such, I had not seen Theophilas and his brother Japhlet for a long time. But I still heard about them as Yunia complained about them literally every time she called me. Although I didn’t want my wife to know—and you shouldn’t tell her if you meet her—I paid his secondary school fees. Every start of the term, Yunia would persistently remind me until I sent fees or part of it. Despite this, I never reviewed his performance; whenever I asked her about it, her answer was simple: “Let the boy keep busy with his age mates!”
In fact, if I gathered correctly, Yunia only wanted Theophilas in school so he could be away from home.
Having refused advances to host the boy, I never heard much about him for long—except when it came to just paying fees. He sat for his KCSE last year; and even though I paid his fees, it was difficult for me to know his performance since Yunia claimed she didn’t know how to check how her son had performed. When I asked her to go to school for updates, she said he still had fee balances. Realising she wanted more money from me, I kept off the matter.
Until last Tuesday. On that day, I went to school very well on Monday and did all that pertains to running a successful school efficiently—which basically means making life difficult for teachers and students so they can focus on what brings them to school. Being a good time of the month, I could not just go home after school; I passed by Hitler’s for the usual evening classes and came back home well past 7pm, when I was neither sober nor drunk.
When I reached home, I did not need a calculator to know that something was amiss. Fiolina was moving from room to room singing Christian songs as she busied herself with being busy. I did not know what was wrong; I did not ask. Men who want peace in their homes do not ask such questions; if the wife does not speak up, the better!
She then set food on the table with two plates—meaning that she would be eating with me. This rarely happened and I anticipated a long night—what did she want to discuss? Whatever it was, I was not ready.
Once I washed my hands, she went to Branton's bedroom and called someone. The person joined me—it was Theophilas! At first glance, I did not recognize him; he was wearing a torn Arsenal T-shirt and grey trousers—his school uniform.
“How are you khotsa?” I asked him excitedly, calling him by the name we call our nephews. He didn’t even respond! The boy had grown beards and had marks on his face as if he had been involved in a fight. Sorry, fights.
He didn’t respond with excitement; he sat there quietly and when he finished eating, he left.
“Hapa ndio tumefikishana? Sindio?” Fiolina, who had all along been watching, asked. She asked why no one would ask her before a relative visited.
I tried telling her that I had no idea the boy would be coming but it fell on deaf ears. “It is not the first time this is happening Dre…” I had to apologise—I still don’t know what for!
I tried calling Yunia but she did not pick up or was unreachable.
The boy had, for the first time, carried a bag with clothes which was a bad thing. It meant he had come to stay!
Even the next morning I tried calling Yunia several times but she did not pick up. She called back around 11am while I was busy in school.
“Kijana alifika vizuri?” was the first question she asked. I told her he had arrived safely and wondered why she hadn’t had the courtesy of informing or asking me beforehand.
“What do you mean? Kijana akienda kwao kwa nini niulize?” she said, not even allowing me to say anything. I had to keep quiet.
Anyway, kijana alifanya Form Four na sasa nimekuletea uone vile utamsaidia!
I tried explaining that I could not host Theophillas but Yunia couldn’t hear me: “Last time you said you had no space because Branton and the others were around! Electina is in secondary school while Branton left last week; you now have space now Dre! I know!”
“My son is your son Dre; unataka aende wapi? Kaako na yeye pia! Na ujipange, Japhlet atakuja akimaliza form 4 pia,” She said, then disconnected.
So dear friends and enemies, I need your help. I have with me a young man, 21 years of age, strong, an Arsenal Fan, got a strong D- in last year’s KCSE, a little rude and definitely not very respectful – but can be changed! He has lots of energy, loves girls—and last time I checked he was mischievous with itchy finger! If you have anything for such a boy, please write to me on the email below. Thanking you in advance!
mwalimuandrew@gmail.com