As many of you may have heard from the grapevine, I spent a good part of last weekend in Nunguni, Ukambani, at a colleague’s dowry negotiations ceremony.
When the week started, I had no idea that I would travel. But when Nzomo approached me asking that I accompany her as a friend and boss, I could not say ‘No’. "You are very good at cross-cultural matters and a good negotiator and I believe you will be a great asset to my family during the negotiations,” she said.
If you are new in Damascus, I wish to let you know that Nzomo and Kuya have a baby together, and depending on circumstances, they always have a handshake or sit in opposing coalitions. So when Nzomo confirmed to me that it’s Kuya who was seeking her hand in marriage, I expected that he would request me to accompany him to the event.
He did not. Even worse, he did not ask for permission to be absent from school.
Having ignored me, I decided that it would be a matter of tukutane kwa debe, and I could not promise I would be on his side. After all he had not invited me!
I left Mwisho wa Lami with the Friday night bus, arriving in Nairobi on Saturday morning. After walking around town on Saturday morning, I boarded a Machakos matatu, then another one to Wote.
Let me tell you Maina, do not listen to the enemies of development who tell you that Ukambani is dry. That’s quite untrue.
The Ukambani I saw was not dry. It was green, leafy, cool and wet. Lush grass, sweet mangoes and healthy goats were everywhere. And ladies? All beautiful! I was very impressed by this, and wondered why anyone would spread such malicious rumours about a place.
I arrived at Nzomo’s place on time. Soon after, a few other men arrived and I was introduced to them. We would soon form a negotiating committee, and I was appointed the chief deputy vice assistant negotiator, proof that Nzomo’s family holds me in high regard.
I briefed the elders about our marriage cultural practices, and gave a dossier on the man who wanted to marry their daughter. How I wish I had positive things to say!
It was around noon when Kuya arrived with his contingent. Interestingly, but not surprisingly, Bensouda and Lutta were among them. Did I need a calculator to understand that the three musketeers were behind all my troubles? I did not.
It would be my time for sweet revenge for I was at that time speaking for and on behalf of the larger Nunguni fraternity, my new adopted family, pushing their agenda.
The ceremony started a few minutes later. Kuya and his people did not manage to convince the Nunguni people on critical things as I was at hand to challenge them on every point they raised, including even what Kuya earned. I am not at liberty to provide more details since this matter is still under active litigation by wazees and I do not want to break the sub judice rule.
I do not know how a disappointed Kuya and his encourage travelled back, but after eating and making merry, I left Nunguni well past 6pm, my eyes seeing double.
Early Sunday morning, I boarded a Mwisho wa Lami-bound Msamaria Mwema bus; tired, exhausted but satisfied.
I reported to school early the next morning. Kuya did not report on Monday and Tuesday. He came on Wednesday, the day we had a staff meeting.
“I had a personal matter that I was attending to sir,” he said. “I do not like missing school,”
“Look Kuya, I too was in Ukambani. But I reported to work on Friday, Monday and Tuesday. Let us not mix personal matters with school matters.’
“I know you were in Ukambani Dre but your circumstances were different,” he said. “You were alone and did not need any preparation, you just showed up!”
I went on: “Had I not prepared well, you would have gotten everything you wanted.”
“Please do not remind me of what transpired in Ukambani and the negative role you played. What happened in Ukambani should remain in Ukambani.” He was very upset.
“I had no intention of talking about it,” I said. “I only talked about it because you brought it up.”
“Anyway, I will issue you with a Show Cause Letter so that you can explain why disciplinary action should not be taken against you.
“Do what you want Dre, do what makes you happy,” he said. “You are in power now but remember power is not permanent.”
“I know that already,” I said. “I will not be afraid to take action just because I won’t be HM forever.”
Dear readers, please help me write a polite, civil, but firm and tough warning letter to Kuya. You all agree that there must be order in this school.
