It’s December

“You guys are not serious. The roof?”

“Yes” In unison. There was an unmistakable look of determination on all their faces.

He was grateful to have such friends. But it seemed like such a long shot, almost impossible. The crowd was massive. There was no way to get to the door, leave alone through it, to get to him.

“So, are we doing this or not?” One asked

“Of course we are. We’re already here, aren’t we?” Another responded. He took a handkerchief from right- side pocket of his beige shorts and wiped the beads of sweat that were forming on his forehead. Then, he took a deep breath. He was staring at the roof, as if trying to figure out how they were going to get there.

He lowered his voice, “It’s okay. It’s never that serious. I’ve been like this a while and…”

“Nonsense!” He was cut off.

“We’re going. We’ll get there, somehow”

“Are you sure?” His voice was a little shaky. He couldn’t figure out if it was caused by excitement, that was starting to build up or disappointment, that he thought was coming his way, eventually.

“Yeah. You have to walk. It’s December”

When I was younger (he he), December used to be THAT month. The month that you’d wake up with the intention to go buy breakfast and somehow end up in a random town like Naivasha. You, your crocs, black sweatpants, the red t-shirt that’s faded around the neck area, three eggs,two tomatoes, an onion that you were going to use to make an omelette, all in that red net that your mama mboga will put them in, and the lone packet of milk. The most likely scenario is that you would end up drunk. Whatever happened to the breakfast, well, ingredients, nobody knows. Nobody talked about them after. Maybe it’s a case of whatever happens in Naivasha, stays in Naivasha. Including groceries.

Interestingly, this has never happened to me. I’ve never ended up in Naivasha, or any town, randomly. I like plans. I would have said I live a boring life, but my cousins Angie and Wangechi disagree. (I can’t keep introducing people every time I talk about them. Surely, by now you know Wangechi is my cousin. Well, meet Angie, who is also my cousin ) About a week ago, we were somewhere in the heart of Muran’ga, under a simple shed with a red oxide floor next to a granary in surprisingly good condition. (If you don’t know what a granary is, you’re too young for this. Ha...