CHAPTER THIRTEEN - A Cocktail of Double Life

We Come from different worlds, different starts

But when you are lying here, in my arms

All I wanna do, is love the way you do

                     Kenny Rogers

               

No meeting, or cheque to be collected, or a court appearance, was going to make Jamba go to work. To block any temptations, he switched off his phone as soon as he woke up after sending a message to his Personal Assistant that he would be unavailable. His plan was clear; drop the children to school while wearing slacks, a tee-shirt and sandals, return home and spend the whole day holed in the bedroom with Kamaria, talking, and possibly other things. Preferably other things.

                They had spent the night in different bedrooms because Jamba wanted to have what he called the talk with the children to prepare them for the eventuality. “Promise she will be here when we come back from school…” Christine had begged her father earlier when they opened Kamaria’s bedroom door and found her deep asleep.

                “Christine, Kamaria is not going anywhere anymore…”

                “Why are you calling her Kamaria, anyway?” Christian had asked in confusion.

                “It is also her name. All her friends call her Kamaria and since we are now friends, Kamaria it is…”

                “So you are going to marry her?” Christian was relentless in his questions as he sat at the back seat with Christine.

                “Would you like that?” He asked, looking at them through the rear view mirror.

                “Yes…” It was a two children chorus answer. “Then we will not have to call her Kamaria or Serah. We can call her mom…”

                Jamba’s smiled, but his smile matched his heart with heaviness. For a moment, he found himself angry at his dead wife for denying his children a chance to call someone mother. He found himself angry at himself for thinking they were alright without a mother, that he was enough for them. He was angry at God because nothing happened without His approval and although his father liked to remind him there is always a reason, he was still trying to work out what was the reason for the too early death of his wife.

                Then he thought of Kamaria and smiled. She was, in his opinion, worth waiting for. Thinking about her made him almost forgive God.

                Half an hour later, he was back in the house. He found Kamaria and Mariam in the kitchen having breakfast and laughing so loudly, they did not hear him open the kitchen door.

                “Oh, hi…” Kamaria called as she chewed on a sausage. “We did not hear you come in.”

                “Clearly not. What are you two so happy about?” He kissed Kamaria on the lips. He was sure he heard Mariam giggle.

“Oh, this and that…” She winked at him. He shrugged.

“Did you sleep well?”

                “Like a log. I almost had a heart attack when I opened my eyes to morning light. How are the kids?”

                “Not happy with me because I did not let them wake you up to say goodbye…”

                “You should have let them. It’s what we do…”

                He put up his hands in surrender, taking a seat opposite her and picking one of her sausages. “Now I know.”

“Breakfast, sir?” Mariam offered.

Jamba nodded. “Absolutely. I am famished.” Then he leaned to Kamaria and whispered, “Breakfast in bed?” Kamaria blushed and nodded enthusiastically. “Mariam, please put my breakfast in a tray, I will have it in the bedroom.”

As Jamba exited the kitchen, Mariam and Kamaria exchanged a knowing look. They had discussed many things that morning, but both had steered from Jamba. Until now.

“He is a good man…” Mariam said as she beat eggs in a bowl. “I can see the doubt and the fear in your eyes though. What are you scared about?”

Kamaria studied her housekeeper for a few seconds, deep in thought. “I am not really sure, but I guess I am scared of how perfect this feels. Look at us, already behaving like an experienced family.”

Mariam turned on the cooker and placed a pan on it. “What is wrong with that?”

Kamaria shrugged. “Nothing really, but what if it does not last…what if we wake up tomorrow and things are different?”

Mariam cleared her throat and spoke over sizzling oil on the pan. “Nobody in this world is sure of anything. Be happy today and hope tomorrow you will be happy too but if you are not, then you can say you were once happy…”

Kamaria sighed. Why was it all so complicated? Why did love not come with a sort of guarantee? But deep down, she agreed with her housekeeper. Jamba was good, for now, and hopefully for all her tomorrows. He was giving her something she had craved for as long as she could remember.

“Mzee’s breakfast is ready.” Mariam said, and Kamaria burst into prolonged laughter that left Mariam staring in confusion. “What?”

“Mariam…” Kamaria said, in between laughter. “Jamba does not qualify to be called mzee. He is only thirty six…”

“Oh, that? But on my side of life, the male boss is always mzee…”

Kamaria took the tray and walked out, still laughing and muttering to herself. “Mzee indeed. Next she will be calling me mama. I feel so old, gosh…”

***

                As Jamba had his breakfast, Kamaria went to her bedroom and for a shower, changing into comfortable slacks. She found him clearing his last sip of coffee. “There you are.” He said, wiping his mouth with a serviette, eyes on her. “Two things wrong with you...”

“Huh?”

“One, you are dressed. Two, you need to bring all your clothes to this room…” He said as he stood up. She giggled shyly. “I can help you with the first one though…” When he hugged her with tenderness that got her feel like nothing could hurt her in this world, she felt marinated and ready for anything. As gently, he eased her out of her top and she lifted her hands in compliance. “Good…” he whispered as he kissed her nakedness. “You are not wearing a bra…” She moaned softly as his warm mouth made contact with her skin. Next on his list was the slacks. Slowly, he pulled them down, squatting as he did so. She did not see his smile when he did not see any underwear. “Lovely…”

Naked, Kamaria felt vulnerable in front of a fully dressed Jamba, but she could not remember ever feeling so liberated. She closed her eyes and sighed in contentment, only wanting to hear the praises he was whispering to her body. He was circling her, she could tell that. She felt like an item on sale, but she smiled at his appreciation. Once in a while he touched her, only feather light touches. Each touch felt like an electric shock. And she loved it.

“I cannot get enough of watching this body…” He continued whispering, this time round he hugged her from behind. “But there are other urgent matters for now…can you feel them?” She could. She giggled and nodded. “Remember my promise of kissing you everywhere?” And he led her to the bed.

***

                It was hours before either Kamaria or Jamba could summon energy to get out of bed. Only Kamaria’s rumbling stomach gave Jamba the energy to move.

                “Oy, you weakling…” He accused her and sealed it with a kiss on the forehead. “A little activity and you need to replenish your energy…”

                She gasped in mock horror. “Is that what you call a little activity? So what is a lot of activity like? What did I just get myself into?”

                “You will soon know, young lady…now, sit tight, I am going to get you some food but only for selfish reasons. I am not done with you yet…”

                With a constant smile, she watched him slip into his slacks and tee-shirt. When he closed the door behind her, she sighed and sunk under the duvet, wanting to scream her happiness but instead giggling.

                ***

On the mat in the bedroom, wearing nothing but nightgowns, they sat and hungrily ate chicken pilau that Mariam had prepared. “See why it is so hard for me to keep the weight down? Mariam has always been on a mission to fatten me…” Kamaria was licking her fingers.

“I can see me actually earning the term mzee because if I feed like this every day, my tummy will put me to quick shame…but I have an idea; if we have sex everyday for two hours, it should be enough to burn all calories we consume.”

“You are greedy in more ways than one…”

“Think about it though. It is a win-win. We eat what we want and burn it the pleasurable way…”

Kamaria sighed, fighting the same fear of tomorrow that kept sneaking in just when life appeared to be perfect. Would he still want her this much years, or months, later?

Too full to be bothered with taking the plates to the kitchen, they lay on the bed, side by side, facing the ceiling.

“So, what do you have to say about yourself, young lady…” His statement was so sudden, so out of what they had been up to all day, for a moment she did not understand what he was talking about. She looked at him, the look on his face more telling than his words.

                She looked back to the ceiling and sighed. “This is it, right? I am the accused?”

                “Oh yeah. And I will only make a decision of being your lawyer or not, after I hear your story…”

                She giggled, appreciating his effort to make the discussion light.

                “I am the judge too…”

                “That’s greedy.”

                “I  know. Come on, what was all that about? Start from the beginning, please…”

                And she did. Mostly with her eyes shut, she spoke until her mouth went dry. She laughed, she cried, she choked with tears. But she told all. Jamba listened, wanting to emulate her laugh, her cry, everything. But he refrained. He was fascinated, and awed. When she was done, all he wanted was to shout “You love me?” But instead he pulled her to him and hugged her.

                “I don’t know what to think, or say. But I am so glad you are not a prostitute, not a cop, or something similarly sinister…”

                She pushed him away. “What do you mean?”

                He laughed. “That is what your former guards think. They knew there was something sinister about you, but they didn’t know what.”

                They both laughed. “You had me followed, didn’t you? That is how you found out so much.”

                “How else would I have found you?” He answered unapologetically.

                And he told his side of the story. Unlike when she narrated hers, she laughed almost throughout.

                “You poor guy. Haven’t you suffered for love. I love you so much…” she finally said.

                And he grinned, finally understanding the phrase ‘the cat that got the cream.”

                Except for that one day she had to collect clothes from Kileleshwa and decided to spend the night, Kamaria stayed in Jamba’s house and slept in his room. When Christine and Christian had first found her in their father’s bed, she realized she was the only one feeling awkward. They had been so comfortable getting in bed to join her, she had felt like it was the most natural thing in the world. When they both hugged her from each side, she had fought tears.

 The solitude she had been afraid of missing by moving in with Jamba had been neutralized by how happy she was. Even for that one night she had been away, she had almost driven back in the middle of the night.

                The children were more relaxed, no longer afraid she would disappear. Christine was more attached than Christian. Jamba seemed to take longer than the children to believe she was not going anywhere and insisted on driving her to work and from work.

                “There is no point of using two cars when our offices are only two kilometers apart.” He had argued unconvincingly when Kamaria had challenged.

                “Are you sure you are not trying to keep an eye on me?” Kamaria had asked with a cocky smile.

                “Well, that too. But I like our morning chats. I can’t get enough of you, you know…”

                “Man, you better keep this up until we are old and toothless. You cannot spoil me like this then take it away…” She had said it as a joke, but it was a genuine concern. Jamba was showering her with so much love, it scared her.

                “Come here.” It was early morning. They were both getting ready to go to work. He was sitting on the bed, wearing his socks. He patted the bed to show her where to sit. “Listen, and listen carefully. I have no intention of ever loving you less, but at the same time, losing my wife taught me that you need to enjoy now. You cannot stifle today’s happiness because you are afraid of the sadness that may or may not come tomorrow.” She remembered Mariam telling her the same thing. She felt like the clueless alien.

                She nodded. She certainly knew where he was coming from.

                “So, if you love me, you better love me very much. If you don’t love me tomorrow, at least I can reminisce and say you once loved me in totality.”

                She kissed him. “I have no intention of not loving you.”

                “Good. Now, get dressed before a couple of things happen…” She was still in her underwear and bra. He had interrupted her full body oiling routine.

                “What couple of things?”

                “One, that I will get you back to bed and pick up from where we stopped earlier…” She giggled. “Two, we will be late for work.”

                “And three, the kids might walk in on us.”

                “That too. But I gave them the talk.”

                “What talk?”

                “That now that you are sleeping in my bed, they must always knock before entering, and they must not enter unless they are allowed to.”

                Kamaria giggled again. “Do you know Christian wanted to know if the two of us are having sex? How does he know about sex?” Kamaria had been mortified and glad Christine had been out of sight.

                Jamba laughed. Christian had asked him the same thing. “They hear things in school. I doubt he knows what sex involves. What did you tell him?

                “I sent him to you. Told him those were boys questions.”

                “Coward. But it just makes you realise how important it is to talk to them candidly about sex. That young man needs a man to man talk.”

                “What about Christine?”

                “Woman, that is where you come in. You are the girl…”

                Kamaria gasped in genuine shock. How does one talk to a nine year old girl about sex? For the first time, she felt fear of being inadequate to assume the role of a mother. She wondered if there were classes. She did not know anyone with little girls – would she have to join clubs for mothers with young children?

                “Come on, dress up. Stop day dreaming…” Jamba snapped playfully, unaware of what the innocent conversation they just had, had done to her confidence.

                ___________________________

                Kamaria, although aware that she was rusty in matters belonging to a family unit, was mildly surprised to realise she was walking on eggshells. Afraid of making mistakes. Afraid of triggering something negative. Afraid of getting it wrong with the children, children who were overwhelming her with love, trust and dependence. 

                So she called Shani in near panic.

                “You are not their mother. Stop trying to be their mother.” Shani, with an uncompromising matter of fact tone, told her.

                “That sounds so cold…” Even after nearly two decades of friendship, Shani still managed to shock Kamaria with her shots from both hips.

                “No, it is not cold. What you are doing is setting yourself up. What will definitely happen as a result is you will disappoint them, you will disappoint yourself, then you will become resentful and make everyone miserable…”

                “But what do I do? The other day Christian called me mom. That freaked me out…” It had, and Kamaria had pretended not to have heard him.

                “Do you want them to call you mom?”

                Kamaria shook her head on the phone. “I don’t know. It’s not even about the name; it’s the pressure that comes with being called mom. Moms are superhuman type of human. I am anything but…”

                “Then you need to talk to Jamba and tell him your fears. You need to tell him to help you step at a time. The children definitely need a mother, but you are not that, for now. Be their friend, establish a proper foundation then see where it goes from there…”

                Kamaria sighed. At that point and time, she wished she had Shani’s character of saying exactly what was in her mind without any effort to sanitize it. Shani’s character was what she needed to borrow because she was aware if she did not sort the issue, it would get out of hand. She had come too far to watch it slip through her fingers just because she was afraid of upsetting the perfect kind of balance.

                Their drive home that evening was quiet. Jamba had sensed the mood immediately he had spotted her walking towards the car. She looked tired. Her shoulders were slightly stooped. She was looking down. Even her usually confident gait had been replaced by a slow dragging of her feet. It was noisy outside, but he could almost swear he could hear her feet drag.

                When she neared the car, he reached across and opened her side of the car. She gave him a sad smile. “Hey…”

                “Hello sweetheart. Are you okay?” She offered her cheek for a kiss.

                “I am fine. Just a little tired.”

                He did not believe her. He did not press her either. He drove towards Kilimani. She only noticed they had taken the route when they near the police station. She looked at him with a start.

                “Where are we going?”

                “Well, you look like you want to tell me something and I thought it would be a good idea to look for a private place. Where is your house?”

                She burst out. “Oh lord…it just hit me that you have never come to my house…as it happens, we are very close to the house. Just a few meters ahead. Take a left …”

                He was relieved to hear her laugh. In his opinion, if she could laugh like that, they were still cool. “Can you believe it? I want to know where you live, just in case you decide to run off…” He decided to let it slip that Mnaa had actually given him the exact address of her house.

                “You wouldn’t be able to find me. I have several houses you know…”

                “I keep forgetting you are a rich girl. How does that feel?”

                “What, being rich?” He nodded. “I don’t know…normal? I have never been anything else…”

                “Do you…you know, ever wonder about less rich, or poor people?” Jamba had been born in a middle class family. Never experienced poverty but in his life in a public college, at work, he had seen poverty.

                She took her time to answer. Thinking about her time before and during Ruaka. “Not before Ruaka. Before that, my life was kind of surrounded by rich and wealthy. Expensive private school and universities, friends, clubs, neighbourhood…everything. Mariam told me a lot of stories about the ghetto though. I also pay school fees for a lot of children, but I do not think I ever allowed myself to invest emotionally to all that…”

                “Until Ruaka…”

                “Yeah…” She thought about Wanjala’s meager earnings that were supposed to move mountains of family responsibilities. She thought about Kendi and her mother. About Mwikali and her education. About all the people she saw working too, too hard and earning bare minimum. About all the children she saw walking to school wearing torn uniform, looking hungry and wearing no shoes. A couple of times, she had shed tears and wished she would help them. Ruaka had made her emotions raw and she was still struggling to accept there were so many struggling people. “It is hard to watch people suffer…” She pointed at a black gate. “That’s the gate…”

                He turned in, dimmed his lights and waited. There was a sign at the gate warning against hooting. Within seconds, a uniformed guard came out to check, gave Jamba a stern look that disappeared when he saw Kamaria. “Madam, welcome, welcome. I did not know it was you…”

                “That’s alrigt…how are you?”

                “Fine madam. Welcome…”

                Jamba was giggling all along, only speaking when the gate was opened. “Gosh, the way people treat you here…”

                “It’s tedious, but what to do…”

                She led him to the pent house. “Of course you have the pent house…” He remarked, walking in and looking around in admiration. It looked like the perfect place for man-cave and he wondered if she would give him a copy of the keys. Her sitting room had big, glass windows with a huge glass door leading to the balcony. None of it had curtains. He asked about it.

                “Unless anyone is going to train binoculars towards my house, the other apartments are too far for them to see anything here. Besides, I usually have the lights off here, except for the corridor ones…”

                “Really, really nice.” He was at the balcony looking at the artificial lights taking over the day lights. Her balcony had bamboo furniture; he sat one of the seats and lit a cigarette. “This is an awesome think spot…”

                She laughed. She found his statement weird because she thought the view of trees from his balcony was perfect think spot and environment. “I can give you a copy of keys.” Had she read his mind? “Drink?”

                He nodded. “Why not? Let’s toast…”

                “To what?”

                He shrugged. “Who cares…”

                Half an hour later, they were still at the balcony. They sat opposite each other, feet up on the balcony rails. They could no longer see each other clearly, but neither seemed bothered. They were both drinking Amarula.

                “Anyway, what is bugging you?” Jamba finally asked.

                “I don’t understand…”

                “Something is bugging you. What is it?”

                She sighed. “It could be nothing…”

                “Can I be the judge of that, please?”

                Instead of sipping on her drink as she was doing earlier, she gulped it all down and put the glass on the table, pulling down her legs. She shivered not from the chill, but from the nerves.

                “You are right, something is bugging me…it’s the kids…”

                He sat up so fast, he poured some of the drink on himself. “My kids? What about them?”

                “No…no…it’s nothing bad, at all.” He sighed. “It’s just…I am worried I cannot be who they expect me to be…”

                Through the semi darkness, he stared at her silhouette in confusion. “I don’t get it….”

                “Jamba, they want a mother. I have never, ever taken care of anyone. I have never interacted with children. I hardly know how to take care of myself…” The tears were burning her eyes, she let her crying eye to drop them.

                He reached for her hand across the table and squeezed it reassuringly. “I don’t know what happened to scare you so much, but I can tell you, I do not expect you to be their mother…”

                “It’s not you. It is them. They want a mother…Christian called me mom…”

                “Wow…”

                “…And I felt good. Honoured even. Then I got scared. What do mothers do with children? What do they expect from me? What if I come short of their expectation? Will they hate me? Will I disappoint you? Will I disappoint me? I am just so overwhelmed with fear…”

                Jamba was shocked. So shocked he could not think of an appropriate thing to say. In his bliss, in his satisfaction of having Kamaria with him, he had neglected to consider the fine details of the kind of relationship she was going to have with his children. He felt angry at himself, disappointed. Selfish, even. He took a deep breath and squeezed her a little harder.

                “I feel like a curd for not thinking about this. I am sorry…I am sorry for being selfish.”

                She sniffled.      

                “I do not have the answers because I never thought it from your position, but I promise to forge something. My kids love you, to bits. My kids have never really had a mother for obvious reasons, and the fact I never allowed a woman near them. They probably have been waiting to use that word on anyone. I may be wrong, but I think to them, it is just a word they have wanted to use…”

                “You think?”

                “I hope. It probably does not hold much meaning to them but you know kids, they want to have what their friends have. They have probably wanted to tell their friends about their mother and here you are. I can promise you one thing though, that you and I will find a way…”

                “Thank you…”

                “You are welcome. I believe it is enough that you are here -  your presence is probably more important to them than the meaning of the word mom. Of course, I am happy you are here because of Christine because she is almost a teenager and would benefit with a woman’s view on the world…but….wow, can we sit on this and discuss it a little more tomorrow when I think more about it? Between the two of us, we will have an answer…”

                “Okay…also, perhaps we should go home now. The kids must be wondering where we are…”

                He smiled. “Well, I am glad you call it home but this is also home…” He stood up and helped her up. “We will call Mariam, speak to the kids and tell them we have a life away from them…” She giggled. “Then we are going to make love in this house. Then we will go for dinner, come back here and make more love. Then we can go to our main home…” He brought his mouth down on her willing mouth.

               

****

By design, half of the top managerial positions at Sassi Developers were occupied by women. When her parents were alive, they had put up a policy that required the top positions to be equally divided. The Managing Director was a man, his assistant was a woman. The General Manager was a woman, her assistant was a man. The Human Resources Manager was a woman only a year older than Kamaria and according the MD, she was highly efficient.

                Her name was Leah. Leah’s appearance was often deceiving but she was known to swiftly put people who underestimated her in their rightful place. At five feet three inches with a boyish appearance, she was as petite as they come. Her deep and deliberate voice, however, gave the first sign that she expected respect.

                Kamaria had summoned Leah to her office for a chat and the latter had come armed with a pen and paper to take notes. She sat opposite Kamaria, her petite body threatening to disappear in the seat.

                “How many Personal Assistants do the top managers have?” Kamaria asked, leaning on the seat.

                “Two. As per the policy, a male and a female.”

                “Are two necessary.”

                “Totally.”  Leah answered without hesitation. “One is the diarist and will follows the managers for official appointments and take notes. The other one stays in the office to handle business and keep the department moving.”

                “I see. I have only Sheila. Do you think I need two assistants?” 

                Leah took her time to answer. “Well, if you are going to get more involved in the office, if you are going to attend more meetings, then yes you do. But as of now, Sheila is sufficient.”

                “Right. I am certainly going to get more involved.”

                “I can recruit from within. That is what we do…”

                “Not necessary. I have someone in mind.”

                “Oh…are they qualified?” Leah hated it when potential employees were imposed on her. That, according to her, was how a company ended up hiring inefficient staff. But this was the boss; she had no intention to argue.

                “I suppose. What do PAs need to qualify?”

                “Well, a degree to start with. Even better, a degree in management. Of course, others can do but…”

                “The person I have in mind has a diploma in finance…”

                “I see. Do they have experience?”

                “Oh yes. Managing a pub counter.”

                “Oh.” Kamaria could tell Leah was working hard to keep a straight face. She desperately wanted to laugh, but Leah looked ready to cry with frustration. “Can I at least interview them? And perhaps train them?”

                “Of course. Look, I know you are not convinced and I totally understand, but I know this person. He is good, and honest. I am just recommending, the rest is up to you.”

                “You mean if I do not like the person I can tell you so?”

                “Absolutely.”

                Leah sighed in relief.

                Kamaria’s phone rang. It was Jamba. “That will be all, thank you Leah.” She only answered the phone when Leah closed the door behind her. “Hey darling…”

                “Hello sugar. Would you like to go out for a drink later?” It was a Friday. It had been a month of living together, a month of flirting with the idea of going back to R&R.

                “To the pub?”

                “To the pub.”

                “Good. I need to talk to a couple of people there.”

                “Awesome. I can pick you up at four PM so we have time to get into comfortable clothes?”

                “Okay. Oh, Sudi stopped by. Did you know he has a contract to design our next project?”

                Sudi had earlier knocked on her door, popped his head in wearing a cheeky smile. She had been surprised to see him, wondering if he was having trouble with Shani and had wanted to talk to her. The two had been officially dating for three weeks. Sudi informed Kamaria he had just signed a huge contract with Sassi and wanted to say hello.

                “I did. He didn’t want you to know. He said he didn’t want it to look like you helped him get the contract.”

                “Oh. That’s grand…”

                “That’s Sudi for you. See you in a few hours?”

                ____________________________

                “Nervous?” Jamba asked. They were at the parking lot of R&R. They had been parked for over ten minutes and Kamaria still did not look half ready to leave. She kept looking at her face on the rear view mirror, then she would look at the pub then start fumbling in her bag.

It was seven PM and the parking lot was starting to fill up. Country music could be heard from the inside. “It’s funny. All that time I worked here, I have never stood out here in the darkness to appreciate what it looks like…” She was now looking at the pub. The darkness and the colourful bulbs could easily make her forget how drab R&R looked at day time.

“When I come out here to smoke, I do that a lot. It does look different…” Jamba answered.

They were both wearing jeans and sneakers. Kamaria had a blue top covered in a fancy blue sweater. Jamba wore a black tee shirt, no sweater, and his usual hat.

                “How do you think everyone will react?” She finally spoke her fears.

                “I bet they will all be happy to see you. Malik did ask Wanjala and the two waitresses to wait for you. They were not on duty but they were excited to hear you are coming. They probably think you want to buy them a drink…”

                “Okay, let’s do this.”

                Hand in hand, they went round the pub and used the back door to access Malik’s office. As usual, he was fumbling with papers, but he seemed to have taken her advice and got help in reducing them. Kamaria giggled.

                “Hello Mr. Paperman…” Kamaria called in greeting.

                “Serah!” His face lit when he saw her. He walked from his seat and hugged her from the other side of the table. “Now I can hug you, you don’t work for me.”

                They all laughed. “Hello Jamba.”

                “Malik. How are you?”

                “I am good. And look at you Serah…oh, don’t tell me to call you the other name, I like Serah. It’s normal.”

                “What’s in a name?”

                “Indeed. Come on, sit. I brought an extra seat when you told me you would be coming. What a cheeky person you are, Serah. Making us all feel sorry for you while you were rolling in money…”

                Kamaria laughed. “I am sorry. I was going through a phase.”

                “Clearly. So, you two love birds, when is the wedding?”

                Jamba coughed. Kamaria laughed. “He hasn’t proposed…properly.”

                “What a foolish man. Anyway, what is it you two wanted to talk to me about? Oh, tea? Coffee? Alcohol?” They did not want anything yet. “So, tell me…” Malik pushed away his papers, placed his elbows on the table and waited for his guests to finish shifting on their seats and looking at each other.

                “You already know most of the story.” Kamaria started. Jamba had told her they had had a conversation on the phone. “So I will just get on with the main reason we are here. I asked for Wanjala, Kendi and Mwikali because, besides being extremely lovely souls and making my life here fun, they need help. The kind of help I can easily provide.” She shifted again and looked at Jamba. In turn, he nodded in encouragement.

                “I want to offer Wanjala a job.” She blurted. She decided to start with the difficult one.

                Malik straightened up. “A job. What sort of a job?”

                “An office job. I want him to be my Personal Assistant…”

                “Whooah…that is huge.” He started rubbing his nose vigourously. “Is he aware?”

                Kamaria shook her head. “Not yet. I did not want to ask him before I spoke to you…”

                “O…kay.” He gave his papers a sad look as he resumed his elbows on the table pose. “This is something, alright. I hate losing Wanjala. He has been doing a great job in helping with these…” He pointed at the papers with his mouth. “Plus he is the best bar man in central and east of Ruaka. But I would never be able to live with myself if I did not let him have better things so yeah, you have my blessings. At least Njeri has proved herself...” Kamaria thought she saw his face light up when he mentioned Njeri and made a note to ask Wanjala if the two were already having an affair.

“Thank you. There is also Kendi and Mwikali. I would like to take care of Kendi’s mom and also pay for Mwikali’s education…”

Malik felt so emotional, he was unable to speak for a minute.  “This…this is perfect timing. Only last week, Kendi came here crying to tell me her mother needs to have an amputation. They do not have enough money for that. Makes you weep for poverty though. I was going to organize a small fundraiser amongst the staff.”

                “That’s terrible…”

                “It is. She has been doing double shifts and the poor girl is almost sleep-walking on the job. I would like to say life can be crap, but that would be inappropriate after your offer. As for Mwikali – I have never seen such determination to get a university degree. She will go far, that girl will. And she will partly thank you for that.”

                Five minutes later, Wanjala, Kendi and Mwikali cautiously walked in through the door. None of them knew why they had been asked to come out of shift time and had spent the evening nervous and guessing. On seeing Kamaria, they all forgot they were supposed to be nervous and the two girls shrieked in excitement. Wanjala stood back, smiling.  

                “Serah!” Kamaria stood up, spreading her arms for a group hug.

                “Wow, so good to see you. How have you been? And look at you? You look so beautiful…”  Wanjala was doing all the talking, the two girls looking on in awe and fascination.

                Jamba, feeling invisible, looked on with pride. When the excitement died down, Malik coughed to call for attention.

                “Now that we are done shrieking, save the rest of excitement for later. Anyway, boy and girls, sorry there is nowhere for you to sit. Your former colleague, and very soon you will know why I feel weird calling her your colleague, has something to say to you. Over to you, Serah.”

                Kamaria turned her seat to face them. Her back was on Jamba. Looking at them, she had to fight back tears, and she was  not even sure what the tears were for. She cleared her throat. “It’s a long story guys, one you may never know all the details. First things first though; I am not who I made you all believe I was.” She smiled when they looked at each other in confusion. “Kendi, you may or not remember, over a year ago, a woman who came here or a day time drink and you and the bar man were so scared because you thought it was someone from the city council?” Everyone looked at Kendi. She folded her brow, went deep in thought and when it dawned on her, she gasped and covered her mouth. “That was me…” Kamaria laughed.

“Good Lord…that…that rich woman?” Jamba, Malik and Kamaria laughed.

“Yes, that rich woman was me.”

“Bu…but…”

Kamaria shrugged. “I told you it is a long story. I would also like to thank the three of you from the bottom of my heart because you were good to me – you may never realise how much it meant to me that you took me as your own. You were there for me, made my time here bearable.”

They looked at each other in confusion. None of them said anything.

“Kendi, I am so, so sorry to hear what is happening with your mother’s health. Malik told me about it. You do not have to worry anymore – at least not about the operation, medication and after care will be taken care of…”

Kendi went to collapse, but Wanjala was quick enough. Kamaria stood up quickly to let Wanjala place Kendi on the seat. “Are you okay?”

She had her head down on her knees, heaving. Nobody moved until she was composed enough.

“I…I don’t know…I don’t know what to say…thank you. My God will bless you…” Kendi finally said.

“Thank you…”

“May I be excused? I feel like throwing up…” Without waiting for an answer, she ran outside, leaving a heavy silence behind.

“She will be fine. She is just overwhelmed…” Malik assured. Everyone nodded.

“Mwikali…” Kamaria resumed after she took back her seat. “You are such an inspiration. You are so, so determined with your education. You have not allowed lack of money to bring you down. How is college?”

Mwikali shrugged. “Fine, I guess…”

“She is lying.” Wanjala said, throwing a sharp look at Mwikali. “She was kicked out. She cannot do her exams…”

Mwikali was using her shirt sleeve to wipe her silent tears. “Oh. Please bring all your arrears to Malik. You can resume college…and do your exams. Also, your remaining time in college will be catered for…”

“Jesus …” Mwikali screamed, her hands dramatically going to her head. “Are you joking?”

                They all laughed. Her comical reaction was a welcome relief from Kendi’s.

                “Certainly not. Your only worry should be accommodation and passing the exams. Tuition fee and transport will be sorted. You will also be getting allowance for food…”

“Eish. Did you win the lottery?” Mwikali demanded, then started laughing. Hysterically. Three minutes later, everyone started getting concerned when her expression turned painful.

                “Is she okay?” Jamba leaned close to Kamaria to ask. Kamaria shrugged.

                “I am sorry…so sorry…” Mwikali said between laughter. “This is just unbelievable. I was finally going to give up college, but my mom told me an angel was about to make a difference in my life…see this… I do not know what to say…”

                “Well, perhaps you can go out and see if Kendi is okay…” Malik suggested. He was getting tired of the emotions because they were all making him emotional.

                Wanjala was standing nervously against the wall, hands across his chest, big round eyes studying Kamaria in shock. Throughout the drama with the girls, his mind had done a rewind from the time he met her and he knew something was different. All the little nuggets about her character. The fact that anonymous people were paying his children’s school fees. As he stood there wondering what was in store for him, he had no doubt she was the anonymous.

                “My awesome supervisor and friend…” Kamaria finally said to Wanjala. He shifted, but his facial expression remained static.

                “Would you be willing to work in an office?” Kamaria asked. For an answer, Wanjala’s eyes grew in size. “I am asking if you would like a job?”

“What?” He stood to attention and froze. His lower lip trembled and eyes seemed ripe enough to pop out of the sockets. “What job, where?”

                “An office job. It’s up to you to take it or not. Malik has given his blessings…”

                Wanjala slowly turned to Malik. “It’s true.” Malik assured. “There is a whole new world out there waiting for you…”

                “Where?” He shook his body as if to release the tension, sounding more confident.

                Kamaria told him.

                “Never heard of the company but it sounds like one of those big companies…”

                “You have no idea…” Nobody heard Malik mutter to himself.

                Kamaria nodded. “It is. The pay is really good, if you get the job. Are you familiar with what a personal assistant’s job entails?”

                He shifted on his feet. “Not really. I mean, I have never worked in an office. But me, even rocket science I can handle…” They all laughed. None of them doubted his claim.

                “Sawa. Do some research on duties of a PA so you will be ready. Over the weekend, prepare you CV. Don’t be late for that interview. Keep the same confidence you always have while working behind the counter. I have faith in you my friend.” She gave him Leah’s business card. “She is aware you are going. Eight AM, Monday morning. Do not be late.”

                Wanjala took the card and lifted his eyes and hands to the heavens.

                “So many tears…” Malik remarked.

               

                ***

               

One hour later, they were still chatting about everything and nothing. Wanjala had served Jamba two beer and ordered for coffee from the kitchen. Jamba was on his second beer.

“I have to ask you this…” Kamaria said to Malik. “Is there something you would like me to do for you?”

“Who, me?” Malik was surprised. Kamaria nodded. “Good Lord…I am the most content man in the world…”

“Not even help renovate R&R? I just feel like I should do something. You were so awesome to me. You had faith in me too.”

Malik shook his head emphatically. Jamba laughed loudly. “Do not offer to renovate this damp. We love it just the way it is…”

Malik nodded. “It’s true. One time I gave notice to the customers to close it for renovation. I almost started third world war. Now all I do is renovate the washrooms and leave everything else as it is. I do not even bother with the compound as long as the grass is shorter than five centimeters long, and there is no trash. They want a damp, they will get one. Saves me money anyway…”

“What can I do, though? There must be something…”

Malik shook his head thoughtfully. “My dear, many times, when there is real friendship, you do not have to offer material things. You should be preaching about this anyway. You pretended to have nothing and see what you got…” He pointed at Jamba.

“I have an idea…” Jamba sat up. “I suggest, when we get married, and that will happen, you should walk her down the isle…”

“Why did I not think of that?” Kamaria was excited. She had no father, or father figure. Malik, even in his relatively young age, was the closest thing she had to a father figure.

“There you go. Now that is a gift I would happily accept…”

“Now he just needs to propose…” She looked at Jamba accusingly.

“Patience woman. Patience is a virtue…”

“Pugh…”

                “So Serah, do you think you can drink at the main bar? It will give you an opportunity to talk to everyone. And you two have already taken too much of my paper time…”

                “Yeah. Why not?”

                Hand in hand, Jamba and Kamaria walked to Jamba’s corner. Wanjala and Njeri were working behind the counter. Njeri gave her a high five and winked; something Kamaria took as a confirmation on her earlier suspicions with Malik. Wanjala’s face broke into a smile.

                “Look who is here as a customer!” He left the counter to hug Kamaria. “I owe you that hug, for everything you are making possible for me and the girls, for missing you as well. To also tell you that you look so different – so beautiful.”

                “It is really great to see you. How is work?”

                “Well you know. They haven’t invented a new alcoholic drink so it’s still the same.” He was back to his side of counter. “I miss you. Everyone misses you, especially Kendi and Mwikali – clearly they had a good reason to miss you.”

                “Where are they? Have they calmed down?” Kamaria was looking around.

                “Somewhere out there and yes, they are fine. Grinning and hugging everybody, colleagues and customers alike. I will find them in a bit.” He served Jamba his Tusker. “Sorry Serah, I have never served you before. What do you want to drink?”

                “How about water?” She was unwilling to partake beer, and she had never liked the stocked wine.

                “You stopped drinking?” He asked as he put a bottle of water on the counter.

                “I am on a break.” They shared a secret smile, remembering that time she came to work wearing a hangover instead of clothes.

“I think I see Sudi coming in…” Jamba said excitedly. “Very timely because I am beginning to feel like a third wheel here…” Jamba whispered to Kamaria.

                “You are so spoilt…”

                “Unashamedly so, too. I will waylay Sudi and leave the counter to you.” He kissed her lightly on the mouth, took his beer and went to meet Sudi.

                Wanjala excused himself to go and fetch Kendi and Mwikali, leaving Kamaria and Njeri. “So, what has been happening?” She asked cautiously. She had not had time to know Njeri on a personal level to ask directly about Malik.

“Oh, everything is fine. Our friend,” she pointed, using her mouth, to the direction of Malik’s office. “He was a little hesitant but I was persistent…” Njeri laughed.

“You mean…you two?”

“Of course. All the silly girls here are waiting for a man like Jamba to rescue them.” She made a sucking sound. “Only problem is men like him are hard to come by. In the meantime, Malik has been sitting in that office waiting to be loved. I gave him that love…”

“Wow…” Kamaria wanted to question Njeri more on the details but the arrival of Wanjala and the girls came too fast. The four of them had another prolonged group hug.

                “I am so glad you are calm now. You scared me for a while…” Kamaria said, releasing them all.

                “Wah. I thought I was going to die in there…” Kendi said happily. “We do not know what to say to you, Serah. Thank you so, so much…I already called my mother to tell her the good news. She is praying for you right now…”

                “So is mine…” Mwikali added, not wanting to be outdone.

                Kamaria laughed uncomfortably. She never could muster enough courage to tell people she just did not subscribe to any superiour being. She always thought it such a waste when people prayed for her. “That’s lovely. Tell her I appreciate…”

                “So tell us…did you win the lottery?” Mwikali demanded, echoing her earlier question, poking Kamaria lightly.

                “Something like that…” She doubted they would believe her if she told them the truth.

                “Or did Jamba give you all that money? He is a rich man…” Kendi asked with a conspirator tone.

                Kamaria laughed again. “Maybe…” She did not even know how much Jamba was worth, but she was pretty sure she was worth much more than him. Kendi’s question made her wonder if she and Jamba would ever discuss their finances.

                 “I can tell you for sure, you have given hope to many girls here. Now they believe they can get a decent man from here.” Wanjala said from across the counter.

                “Seriously, I have to be a maid on your wedding.” Kendi face was so serious, Kamaria believed she was serious.  “I can’t believe you got Jamba. Everyone wanted him.”

                Kamaria giggled. “Who is everyone?”

                “All the waitresses here.” Mwikali said with a giggle and a wink. “I would have said yes anytime if he had asked me…”

                “Okay, this conversation is really weird. Do you mind?” Kamaria protested.

“Mannerless girsl. Discussing someone’s fiancé like that in front of her…“ Wanjala reprimanded with a click. “In fact, I think you have overstayed your welcome. Shoosh…go and earn a living by serving customers…”

“We are off duty…” Mwikali protested. She was hoping to be invited to have a drink with Kamaria.

“I do not care. You are here, and I am your supervisor. I say, go out there and serve. In fact, Sudi does not have a drink yet. Take his Tusker to him…”

The two walked away grumpily, Mwikali carrying Sudi’s Tusker and a glass.

“Thank you…” Kamaria said with relief. “I did not know how to stop them…”

                “I could tell. Anyway, I also wanted them gone so I can talk to you. What’s this really about? In one evening, you have promised to give out millions of shillings. Who does that?” He was now facing her across the counter, using his hands to support himself on it.

                “Well, things are not always as they seem…”

                “Stop speaking in parables. Who the hell are you?”

                “Wanjala! Such terrible language…” She was laughing, determined to drag things as long as possible.

                Wanjala’s mind was working on overdrive again, his mind picking up from his earlier thoughts in Malik’s office. He was thinking back to the day Kamaria started working at R&R. How different he thought she was. How she just could not seem to fit in the environment. Of course, he had not been on duty when she had first come in as a customer and he wondered if he would have connected the dots.  Little things here and there. The evening had been a revelation, but there were still too many gaps. It was like being in darkness, knowing there were things to see, and a sudden light replacing the darkness, then going off again.

                “It’s not even funny.” Wanjala said with seriousness she had never witnessed. “I know you already hinted you are not who we thought you were. The mother question is, who are you?”

                Kamaria sighed and sat up straight, studying Wanjala for a few seconds. “You are right, but that question I cannot answer right now. Soon you will know why. But I shall forever be grateful for the unconditional friendship you gave me from day one. For all the covering up you did for me. For making me feel at home. You may not know this, but without you, I may not have survived here…”

                Wanjala swallowed hard. What Kamaria did not know was he had thwarted many attempts to bully her. Save from Kendi and Mwikali, the other waitresses did not like her. They had wanted to frustrate her because she apparently was attracting all the good men. He had threatened to tell Malik if they tried anything. She did not know, but he, Kendi and Mwikali had been her guardian angels. “That is okay. You are a good girl. And you have done so much for me too.”

               

 Story by Ciku Kimani-Mwaniki

Personal guinea pigs - Nyambura Michuki, Ceh Gichimu, Rachel Kimani, Carole Shiku