Of A Drunk Stranger

Yesterday, I had an average day, nothing much happened except work, but that is basically my typical day. That was until I went into town in the evening, you see, I am very lazy when it comes to doing girly things like styling my hair so I always go to my hairdresser and she styles it for me when I am tired with one style and sometimes I just go because she is like my second mother and we have a friendship of sorts, but I digress.

I leave the salon and I walk home because, I am a walker, I love to walk although July is changing my mind because sometimes I feel like my internal organs are frozen after five minutes, the air is so cold, it feels touchable. But, I still walk. Five minutes later, a guy comes up behind me and goes like, “Uko smart aje?”, for a second I am confused, I don’t quite remember the answer to that, is it Thank you, or do I not or do I justify why I am looking nice? So I did not answer.

“Watu wanaulizanga hivyo, lakini wanasema tu uko smart, “he says

I am silent because, number one, he is a stranger, number two, I was in no mood for conversation and number three and most important, I was just so tired talking felt like extreme manual labour

“Umekubali uko smart?”he just will not let it go

“Asante,”I say not quite wondering why this conversation was happening and he walks away, or so I thought.

“Sasa? ” he says and stretches fourth his hand for me to shake. For a mili-second, I stared at his hand and wondered what to do, I was so tired, I couldn’t really walk extremely fast but I wanted to walk, He sounded drunk and seemed to stagger, I wondered whether he was actually drunk and how much drama he would cause if I did not shake his hand, on the other more serious hand (pun very much intended), I imagined him not being drunk wanting to kidnap me and once I shook his hand I would collapse and never be heard of again. I decide to just shake his hand and see what happens, I did not collapse and he walked away, or so I thought.

As I walk past a maize roasting stand, I hear the now familiar yet annoying voice again

“Utakula mahindi,”remember how heavy my mouth is. And now thanks to shaking his hand it feels a thousand kilos heavy not because I thought his were dirty but because of the sadistic ideas in his head running in my head, if you get what I mean.

“Niko sawa, ” I said willing to run but my feet just would not get lighter.

“Wewe ni mkale?” In my head I am thinking, you this man, will you just fall into a manhole already. So what if I am a kale, what has that got to do with anything? But I say, “Hapana,”

“Utakula nini sasa?” This from a guy I just met, a guy whose name I don’t know and who does not know mine. A guy who has no idea how much I want him to fall into a manhole or have the pleasure of seeing him swallow his tongue, literally.

“Utakula nyama?” Did I mention we were walking down a street Nakuru’s Koinange street for those who know it, now that I said that, no need to go that direction, he couldn’t possibly, NO.

“Niko sawa, ” I was getting very close to pushing him into a manhole it would give me enough time to run since people would surround him, some just to look because people have that habit of just looking at someone who has been befallen by a misfortune and shaking their heads, and while they stare and shake their heads, I will run.

“Sasa umekataa kula, twende home basi,” luckily I knew a guy with a stall nearby who was six feet tall, if this thing decided to follow me any further, he would have it.

He got pressed mumbled something about how I should go, he will be right back.

Strangest five minutes of my life. I have never planned to throw someone into a manhole before. Of course, I walked a way and did not look back, and he did not find me and I hope I never meet him again.


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