Dan Okwiri
#Penning🖊my journal for your weekend read, its a long one too! Every man has his journey, some incidences spark atrocious that skeleton our paths but orchid our lives in pepped in wisdom.
My journey in business like many, has been fraught with vicissitudes that would give anyone cold feet.
It was 31 Oct 2010, had been binned out of the KQ ship. Junked wet, terse & dreary, I swore that after giving my heart, blood, sweat and zing to my employer, didn’t want to be employed. Bamboozled by KQ’s chief captain, was disillusioned by the perfunctory corporate betrayal.
Needed rediscover myself, in the free world. Had an American visa, could have emigrated but didn’t want to live a life of indignation as a second class citizen nursing aged European folk & constantly reminisces home washed in sad. Dewy & rumpled something was drawing me to my roots. My thoughts turbid, fresh start put a few of my worldly possessions & torpedoed one way street, to Migori a podunk rural town where nobody knew me. Though blooded Luo from Sakwa clan, my mental disposition was Masai.
A new man in small town, I pitched Migori with my gaudy beaded lurid Masai belt, Samburu bracelet, my lanky frame that awed my tribesmen. An heretic, they were confused for my origin. This man spooned an English lilted accent and before they got wind, many referred to me by a new sobriquet name “Masai” that would gum.
I broke green, to construct a small bed & breakfast with my retirement cheque, in shoe that flowed with my bohemian style. My money in pocket would be stretched, my building not finished. Stumped, had to start with what I had in hand or perish.
Soon had to jiggle to the dance that nobody lends money to a man in choppy waters. Howled, my hotel started with no power connected, & would be that way for 8 months. Water too was a nightmare, the water officials dunning, had to pay weekly bribes to ensure supply.
Frazzled, a man hemmed in gooey, I had to find ways of kick starting my business. Bought paraffin lanterns & candles for bright, to make good of my new plight without flight.
Grungy bathed in hot oil, had no curtains or blankets too, the hotel Spartan. No TVs, no tiles, had floored it fits & starts, paint it red oxide. A moonshot, customers were rare sight in sprite. Every building has its clandestine owners, I even knew the few scraggy resident hotel mice by name, isn’t that nice in spice.
It was now jetting 2012, I remember that date well in fate, 14th Feb Valentine’s Day, for me just another day. Never been a Valentines man anyway, call it hypocrisy, why celebrate love in frenzy just one day in a year. Dearth, it’s was a grimy day. The hotel had few customers, if any. At 7 pm, spun in my bank manager with his daisy date in red dress. A gorgeous lassie, of brown complexion. His daisy love dove, glinted bewitching large hazel nut colored eyes, bushy eyelashes fluttering to melt heart & dry man’s pocket.
She was in her early 30s’, rambled a throaty gregarious lilt to her baritone voice, sounding like Barry White. Genes from Kisii blood, a woman of smooth chocolate milky brown, that seemed to drive her Luo boyfriend nutty smitten love dove. Her body frame no way enticing as Luo lassies have met but what she lacked in curve was compensated by her pretty face & debonair swag.
Her man was bubbling his mid 50s’, of bespectacled corporate genre, with soft hands. A good dude for cheques. An officious bank manager, he soaked in cheesy cake perks, monied by a small town standards. Drove a 4 wheel ritzy car, draped in foppish Italian suit. Every girlie in town in want of him, not for love but loot, however in my outré, he landed on this one. Something he would sprout to regret.
Without fritter he asked for a crate of Tusker Malt. That’s a whacking 24 bottles to guzzle, for both of them 7 liters to throttle. Said, that he needed to wet his thirst & didn’t want to call waiter, well aware the hotel had skeleton staff in serve.
Balked I was miffed, with that much beer, what state of mind would he feral at his workplace the next day. Call it head funk, that bucket of beer would make me drum from the punk.
He pitched at a back of the hotel, in tin roof gazebo had constructed. That night was full moony in boon. The stars glinting, a natural candle lit night for love doves.
Frazzled, I called night at 9 pm, after all, had save on the paraffin. At 11 pm, arcanely heard someone odiously squawking my name wincing in scream like a lamb being slaughtered.
Befuddled, I pranced in night run out to the back of the hotel Adam suited, my only cover, an underwear with a machete flailing in yell. The sight I would see next, petrifying grizzly. The bank manager on his knees in freeze. He had wetted trouser pants in freak, a bloke pressing knife, to slit pooched throat, gripping shirt. He was begging for his life. They were a total of 5 men against him, & I one man standing.
The man with a knife frenetic, jarring foul in sour rancor that the bank manager had been having an affair with his wife, & she had deserted home cause he had rained her with money. Shouting out loud, they had 2 kids together, one in Form 2, the other in standard 6.
The woman hollering back, that she didn’t have speck of love for him, & nothing in the world would bring her back. Mixed in the hodgepodge, the cowering bank manager blurting lies sheep in meek, that he had met the woman the first time that night. Swore to the gods, didn’t know she was married.
Subsumed in the mix, my worry was different, as a business debutant in the hospitality business, didn’t want a client to die in my premises. It’s bad karma, I pleaded for reason but out numbered.
In the bedlam, my late hotel manager Ben, a lofty man heard the gaggle from his room, and in flurry raced to the scene too. This was good, for the odds had changed. We were now three men including the victim against five.
The bank manager originated from my native backyard in Siaya County. I could not let him die, for that would be my funeral too.
In jiffy the only hotel resident I had that night, was woken by the ruckus clucking, & arrived in full swing too, to the pandemonium. The odds had just shifted four to five men. No man in sane could risk committing murder with 4 witnesses.
The enraged hubby suddenly woke to his sense, dropped the knife in resignation and in sally, plodded back to his van without uttering a word poignant in sea, his 4 counterparts in grave tow. He definitely loved his wife, but was helpless. In my heart, would have been on his side, but my business sensibilities were at odds.
She had just feverishly announced to the world, she didn’t care for him. A ghost of himself, he could not impugn her new truth. Stumped, must have been asking himself, what was he fighting to save? You can’t fight for the love of a woman who doesn’t love you.
I sighed in relief, the freak storm had dissipated. Turned my anger to my kinsman for putting the hotel & my life in danger. Told him, Migori was raining with women, why pick a woman who was the belle of town, & every man’s desire. He wasn’t her only man in fan.
Drove the man home, it was 2 am, and his girlfriend spent the night in the hotel. What would baffle me, 2 days later, met the cupid couple late night in another joint in merry, oblivious of the calamitous happen. He offered me a drink to washout his stink, but I politely declined in sink. Ludicrously, some affairs don’t die easy, my take, it’s the risk, that make the sweet. Bawling, had risked my life for him, but he was bedeviled.
A month later would meet him in the bank, tufted he was giving his sweet a whacking Kes 200,000 to top up her stock for a boutique she run. Quite a lot of stash, she was a lucky woman enjoying great perks washed in perky, in return hugged & pecked him sweet kiss.
The gods don’t sleep, karma’s revenge would be lethally sweet. Three months later there were ominous clouds hovering at the bank. It was Monday morning, the bank auditors pounced, & conducted a surprise audit of stock of cash at hand.
Conspicuously missing was Kes 500,000. Swooned in hot & cold sweat, knew his day was already numbered. He had given his lady beautiful some cash on Friday to buy stock for shop & she was to return it that Monday morning. But lo & behold, one of his Judas staff eyeing promotion had snitched to the auditors in Nairobi, & he was caught hands in the cookie jar in rookie.
The bank manager was fired for putrid malfeasance, the bank opted not to charge him. Banks don’t like bad publicity, they don’t want to barf out their dirty linen, in livid fear of a customer run. Settled it quietly, opted to pay him full benefits totaling Kes 7 million quid.
Rustled, he hadn’t a clue what to do next. Had been a white cheesed collared corporate flier all his 25 years of service. Tainted, there was no other bank that would touch him with a 10 foot pole.
His relations with wifey was in a deep precipice. Moving back to house was not even an option. A waddling lame duck, he wasn’t a businessman, had been too long in corporate cozy in dewy mossy.
The candy bar on his side, he had fattened honey pot 7 million, no chicken feed. His girlfriend, drooling for his fortune, offered him a few whacky ideas on how to spend it.
Blood is thicker than water, I quickly sought to mollycoddle him, & told him it wasn’t the end of life. My sage advice, suggested, that the money was enough to build a bed breakfast hotel back in our home county in Siaya, for I didn’t even have that kind of money when I started out. Little did I know, was talking to a wall, blithering a lot of foolish in his ear.
The best advice is found on the pillow. His girlie had big plans, & leashed him in different direction. They moved to Kisii, rented an uppity apartment, on flying start, begun a wine shop.
Kisii, was unfamiliar territory. His lady beautiful, took full steering of the business & ensured he was on a permanent high cloud 9, 24/7. He didn’t downgrade his 4×4 car, & to compliment his lifestyle acquired a white fluffy sausage dog for style. The couple were the talk of new town, but behind the scene, cracks begin to sprout in out. The duo gobbling the wine stock without replenish & soon it would go under in thunder.
No money, no love, the relationship sunk with its deep funk, & like with her former husband again jumped ship. On his last legs, the former bank manager sold his car, to keep his swim afloat. The gains from the car sale was quickly fritted away by lady beautiful in beach, & that money gone, she gone too.
Desperate, his paunchy girdle from the good life was wilting, he turned scare crow. Real life outside the plushy corporate world an uphill.
Rakish, had no choice but to move back to his native Siaya County clucking in sad. Now busing, he did a few trips to Kisii, to try woo her back to her deaf years. She was doing well, had a car, had other plans.
Lady beautiful moved on, & ding dong, soon got married to a simple everyday Joe Doe. Her real true love, they had always been close, the bank manager was just her ATM.
Not for his money, but for love. True sweet, Joe was the love of her life. They started a small bakery, which thrived in daisy & a new mum in town, were gifted with 3 preppy kids.
Unfortunately, life can be sad, lady beautiful had a road accident in 2021, called by the gods at a young 38 years. Knuckled down, she left behind 3 kids, & a great husband who thought the moon of her, & she loved in sea. Everything was picture set but even that was not mean to be. May she RIP.
This world is eccentric, we all look for love & are destroyed by it. Buzz this, I wish not judge anyone, take it for what it is, for it was good while it lasted in sweet.
#okwiri🖊my journal, my thoughts, my walk…
My book “I cleansed the tears” is available @ Nuria Bookstore.
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