When I arrived in Nairobi last week, I was focused on getting two things done: engaging my friends at TSC to have actions taken against Lena—her hair in tow—who had been working with Kuya, who left that school in disgrace a few months ago. The other reason for my travel was to engage Pius to see who could help me start a new Sacco. I had in mind the name Linda Akiba Sacco.
There was also a third reason: I needed actions taken against Kuya, who is not responsible for anything good and had been making my life as HM very difficult.
I arrived in Nairobi early last Saturday, having left Friday evening. I had told my brother Pius I would travel Sunday night. As always, when I go to Nairobi, the first stop is Kangemi, where you all know Xtash stays. Xtash is my former student at Mwisho wa Lami Primary, and I have been her coach and mentor since she was in Class 7. Being a coach means meeting regularly to assess her development and to assign her more work. Usually, I tell Xtash that I am visiting. This time, I did not tell her—I just travelled and arrived on Saturday morning.
The bus had some mechanical issues, so I arrived at 8am, which was good for me. Had we arrived at 4am, it would have been difficult to locate her house in Kagemi. Given how busy and congested Kangemi is, it was difficult to locate Xtash’s estate, but I finally did. I knocked and knocked, but no one opened, although it seemed someone was in, as it was locked from the inside. Attempts to call her were not successful; she did not pick my calls.
I left and went to Kangemi market for a walk. Three hours later, she called me. She said she was at work and would be returning in the evening. When I told her I had been at her place, she said she had left her cousin in the house.
When we went back in the evening, there was no cousin and no sign of anyone. We talked and talked, and I guided her on many things in life, like I always do. It included investments, education and the need to join a good Sacco. For obvious reasons, we slept late. Very late.
We woke up late on Sunday, but left the bed later in the afternoon, and after supper at Xtash’s place, I left for Pius’ place in Syokimau, arriving well past 11pm.
While Pius welcomed me happily, he was not very welcoming. I could see it in his eyes. The usual jovial Pius, who would welcome me, then take me for a drink, was missing. Instead, he went to his room and sat there, leaving me with his children to talk to.
His wife, Nimo, engaged me casually. Usually, she serves me, but this day, their house girl served the food. She did not serve me directly; she just dumped the food on the table, like I usually dump books on the table after class, and asked me to eat. She was lucky I was hungry; I would not have eaten.
The next day, I went to the TSC offices. The people I knew there had changed departments, and I wasn’t successful in getting them. But I successfully lodged a complaint against Kuya for insubordination and working to undermine my leadership as HOI of Mwisho wa Lami Comprehensive School.
I also included Lena in the complaint, as an accomplice of Kuya, and asked for her transfer to another school. The recommendations given were schools far away, like Garissa, Wajir or Marsabit. Far away.
“How was your day?” Nimo, Pius’ wife, asked me when I arrived back on Tuesday evening. She was warm and welcoming. Quite different from her posture in the days before. She served me a proper dinner, topping it up with fruits later on. She even asked if I wanted some drinks, as they had them, and I said no, even though my heart really wanted it.
We started talking, and after the kids went to sleep, she gave me a glass and poured me my best—Jug Daniels. This time, I did not refuse. She poured herself a glass of wine. Clearly, she needed counsel.
“It is very good you visited,” she started, sitting comfortably as a person who had a long story to tell. “It would have been bad for me to leave your brother before I talk to anyone in the family. I just want you to know that living with your brother has been hell on earth.”
“What do you mean? This is one of the happiest marriages I know of,” I said.
“That’s what people think,” she said. “I should have left long ago, I’m just staying because of the children.” She went on to enumerate many issues with Pius: he was proud, arrogant, abusive and even slapped her. She claimed he had another family, though I doubted it, and he did not give her any money, even when she lost her job.
“He even chased my own brother from his house, and does not allow any of my relatives to visit,” she said, pausing, then added: “Your brother is mean. So mean. And violent.” Tears were coming down her eyes. I was on my fourth serving, she on her second glass of wine.
She started sobbing. I didn’t know what to do. Usually, I would have just looked at her. But using Jug Daniels’ borrowed confidence, I went and embraced her, put my hand around her, telling her that it will be fine. She smelled nice.
“Don’t worry, I will talk to my brother,” I said.
“Your brother listens to no one. He doesn’t even listen to your father, so do not even try,” she said.
“I know how I will speak to him,” I said as I moved closer, keeping her in a closer embrace. We just sat like that, saying nothing, her crying.
“What is happening here?” We were startled by the voice of my brother, whom we had not heard enter the house.
I moved back and explained that I was just supporting his wife, who was not well.
“Is that what you came to do in my house?” Looking at Nimo, he said: “You think this one will help you? Even if he could do anything, would he listen to your lies that you keep telling people?”
“Bro, we need to sit and speak. Mlamwa is not happy at all,” I said.
“What? You are telling me as who?” he asked. “What do you know about life, you villager? And by the way I know you left home on Friday and only arrived here on Sunday. You think I don’t know where you were? Do you want me to tell Fiolina where you were? And here you are, wanting to help my marriage? Keep quiet.”
As I left for my room, he said, “And please, pack your things so that you leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
I left by 5am, catching the first Msamaria bus to Mwisho wa Lami. We haven’t talked with my brother since. His wife sent me a message apologising for putting me in a bad situation with my brother.
And for the last time, I swear, I will never visit my brother again!
