Dan Okwiri
Penning my journal. When God was baking those handsome, he caked Otieno with all his gifts. Born in the early 60s to a single fishmonger mum Anyango in Rusinga Island he was birthed on the lake front. Otieno was spunky sprite lad. He was nurtured on omena, rich in omega 3 and calcium, the nutrients saddled him immense intelligence and sturdy bones.
Anyango struggled to pay his fees. She struggled to get fish, the fishermen only sold their catch to women who gyrated them their carnal sweets. Anyango hadn’t a clue in all the lakes blue who was Otieno’s pap. It is said you can’t put all your fish in one basket, or you’ll end in casket.
She serviced at least 7 different fishermen men, a different one everyday to ensure she had a daily supply of fish. Her body was scrawny, her bum flaccid due to the restless needling of the strong fisherman who pinned her frazzled butt flat as a pancake daily. She had bleached her skin to lighten her skin tone ostensibly to attract menfolk as many lakeside women do. Rusinga’s burning sun didn’t spare her either, her skin was singed, had a ghoulish macabre reddish complexion with pimples that jarred. A Michael Jackson wannabe travesty.
Otieno matured before his time, and rivered all his energy in school. He was determined to get his mother a better life away from their rife. The gods smiled on him in 1980, he was the top student in Mbita High School, achieved 4 principals AAAB+ and accepted in UON for law.
To everyone’s surprise & his mother’s dismay, he rejected the offer, and opted to join the army as a direct entry cadet. By 1981 he was posted as on officer in Langata barracks. An outstanding soldier, he was loved by all for his fizzy chipper & vigor.
Kenya in the early 80s was going through economic discontent, and the young military officers were cottoned into it the octane malcontent. Otieno was sucked into it, on 1August 82, it sparked into a coup. It didn’t work, in the jazz was Otieno. He was lucky to get reprimanded with a sack, for some paid for it with their lives.
Now jobless and tainted, few employers would want to touch him with a 10 foot pole. The only way out, he would seek to be self employed. He wanted to start a new life where no one knew him. He called an uncle in Mombasa who windowed him about the opportunities in clearing & forwarding.
No turning back, bag and baggage he bused to the coast. God had blessed him with the gift of the garb, it was do or forever die. Mombasa was a new kettle of fish, he was shocked at the numbers of his Luo folk who had settled in the coast in the 40s, they were hauled there by the British. The coastal folks weren’t built for the heavy manual chore of loading & offloading ship.
The muscled Luo who dieted on ugali & omena were were the backbone of port, cheek by jowl they had a hand in every deal in meal for cargo steal. You could nothing without them.
His Uncle plugged him to a buddy in the Luo networks who employed put him in the clearing & forwarding business under tutelage. He grasped the ropes in speedy swim. Sunset births sunrise, Mombasa candled him new world of opportunities beyond his realm. Déjà vu this was where the gods had always wanted him to be.
In 4 years he fruited to be the most savvy clearing agent in Mombasa port. It was the Moi era, and for wheeler & dealers in the know, chugged the gravy train. High in social intelligence he developed intricate networks that minted money in the gallimaufry.
It was now high noon time, plateaued out he decided to quit and be his own boss. Marriage season was beckoning, he met a hot lady from Ugenya who was the epitome of gorgeous, & he besotted quickly tied knot. His wedding to Adhiambo was the Mombasa’s gaggle of town. The new pipsqueak in the block had arrived as the man to go to.
Otieno flew in his mummy, sonny had upgraded her status to permanent lake front house in Mbita. She was no longer a mooching fishmonger but now a proprietor of a hardware store. The era of the lecherous fishermen soiling her innings was over. God had been kind, & blessed her to be airborne. How things do change.
In quick dip they birthed a daughter which they named “Hawi’” which means fortune. Life couldn’t get any better, but then the devil knocked his door, now monied all the girls in town wouldn’t leave him alone. Hunky dory, they wanted a piece him for poke and his money too. Fingers in the pie he socked every girlie in town
As he thrived, Otieno invested in real estate next to Nyali golf club. Bought a whacking 15 acres of land & a built a lovely house in the same greensy suburbia. Ambitious, to finance his purchases he took on loans, mortgaged his properties to acquire more until he became stretched.
Otieno gradually adopted an uppity life style. Took to golf with the big boys & did breakfast after gyming @ Nyali Club daily. He was now landing corporate clearing & forwarding contracts. The work was to heavy for his shoulder, recruited a young dashing MBA graduate a Mr Okello as his office manager 15 years now into his business.
Okello proved darn good at his job, and soon was running the whole gamut of Otieno’s financial affairs, including his household as Otieno needled his daises. Okello in addition to running the office, and ensured that Otieno’s was stocked with all food nice. He paid Hawi’s school fees at the mossy prestigious St Andrew’s and unbeknownst to Otieno become uncomfortably close to the family.
Soon than later he was poking Adhiambo, the affair was the talk of the town. Otieno didn’t give a hoot of the soot, turned a blind eye for he had long lost interest in his damsel.
The dealbreaker erupted when he came to learn that Okello had extended his territory and now eating both mother and child. This was a no go in Luo tradition, a punishment that could only be compensated by death. Begrudgingly he fired Okello, to his daughter’s & wife’s objection. His house baked to a malodorous hell.
Being a monied man, he offered Okello Kes 500, 000 to stop his affair with his daughter, and with wicked tooth offered him another sweetener that he was done & dusted with his wife, Okello may continue with as he may. Okello obstinately refused, in greed he wanted more.
Amazingly Adhiambo wasn’t aware all the while that her only child Hawi was also being needled by Okello. By now his daughter had done with school, she was rebellious & spoilt. She had performed dismally and refused to road anymore of schooling. She spent most of her while playing video games, drinking & smoking pot.
A year down the road, Hawi peppered with seed announced she was impregnated by Okello and were tying knot. Otieno was miffed in grief.
In woozy fraught he phoned Adhiambo by then had moved out of home, for she was the mother. To her horror she learnt that Okello had been cheating on her with her very own flesh & blood. She hated her husband for his betrayals, but hated Okello even more. On this revenge mission, they were together with her hubby for his treason.
Okello bullet riddled body would shortly be found mangled in a Kaya forest in Kilifi. Whoever killed him hacked him and shot him too, they surely wanted him forever dead. Okello’s murder made big news at the coast. It was say but don’t tell, everything was pointing at Otieno, but everyone empathized with Okello. You should never drink and urinate another man’s well.
The police were sympathetic too, won’t you do the same in fair game if a dude ate your dame & daughter too, & snuff out your shame.
It’s not over till it’s over, the Moi era was over, & in the NARC administration operations at Mombasa port became digitized. Hot money cheating on custom duties had ceased. There were new folksy at the helm, that didn’t play ball, and soon Otieno’s business at the port was gradually coming to fall.
Okello’s kith & kin was incensed by his murder. They swore revenge. Who was better target than Otieno’s mother in Rusinga Nyanza, they knew he loved her to the heavens. They sinisterly arranged to get her raped to spite him. It was a beastly act sodomizing a 70+ year old woman. These guys needled her with much thrust. So big were their plumbing tools that their prodding tore her innings which for years had been in rust sputtering her in blood. Not even the neighbors could hear the old woman holler for help. The happenstance during a stormy night, the rippling tempestuous roaring Lake Victoria waves drowned her wincing shriek.
Otieno was devastated by the macabre act, inwardly he knew it was Okello’s family that orchestrated it, he was hurt, for loved his mum. He airlifted to Pandya Hospital in Mombasa for treatment. After a month long stay she was discharged, but she was never the same in flame.
Traumatized taking her back to Rusinga was a big no. He moved to his guest wing in Nyali. The rain started beating him, the mother was spooked, talk to herself unceasingly. Often things would get thick, she walked stark naked hurling obscenities. He often had to call in medics to tranquilize her for his peace.
In the main house, his daughter who lived with wasn’t any better, constantly drugged she was bitter with her dad for murdering her beloved. The once fizzy Otieno became recluse. His ex-wife is in the hair saloon business she too a mess, getting needled by beach boys & talking crap about him in dinghy pubs of Mombasa .
He no longer patronizes Nyali Golf, he was fed up by pungent gossip that members whispered about him.
All the while there was one thing coming that he tried to keep under the wraps. The bank he had borrowed Kes 200 million wanted him to pay up. If acted promptly he could easily have disposed some of his other Nyali properties and squared the loan & be content with what remains. Hoity toity his pride however wouldn’t let him do so. He held on and the interest went on accruing. He was battling his creditors in court then the bubble burst, his creditors won and his swanky life came to dust.
The scavengers zoomed in, his snazzy powdery beach front home Nyali 6 bed home which made his world was auctioned. In sad happenstance, his insane mother had a heart attack soon after he moved to a rented house in Bamburi. Skint broke and frazzled , fellow Luo Mombasa community didn’t bother to contribute to ferry her remains to Rusinga, a journey of 1000 kms. They were bitter with him that he didn’t stand with them in his days of prosperity. Otieno had no option but bury his mum in a cemetery in Mombasa.
Today Otieno is a besieged man, he lives with his daughter, a Saint Andrews student who survives on prostitution. What I haven’t said, Hawi has Okello’s daughter. Now tardy, frail and diabetic, everytime Otieno gazes at his granddaughter in nadir sickened in unsavory melancholy reminded that he killed the dad.
Zeitgeist a pig fries in his fat, his darling ex-wife laughs in last. The once handsome, wealthy, fizzy lad but a wistful dream, for pity’s sake asking what went wrong to cause this much pong.
#okwirimy journal, my thoughts , my walk…
*** My book “I cleansed the tears” is available at Nuria Bookstore
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