CHAPTER ELEVEN - Nairobi Cocktail, The Sleaze

The Puzzle Falls into Place

The kind of money Oti was now making was the reason he stopped worrying about how he would survive tomorrow, many tomorrows. Not having to worry about tomorrow was however, an unfamiliar feeling and once too often, he found himself wondering why he felt strange, like he was forgetting something, only to realise he was just borderline happy. All his life, he had worried, especially about where his next meal would come from. He had been born by worried parents who bred worried children, children well trained to worry about survival and how to beat hunger. Un-training himself was near frightening. His nightmares were all about falling into a dark pit of hunger and worry.

That he could eat whatever, and whenever he wanted was something he was still getting used to. He was still getting used to not asking gum-chewing ghetto waiters how much the food cost before making an order. He was still tiptoeing into supermarkets, like he was expecting to be stopped, to be told he was not good enough to go in. In the supermarkets, he bought stuff in bulk, stuff he had no use for, some of it he had no idea what their use was. Then he would take a taxi to the periphery of the slum.

One evening he sat in his house, watching a movie and drinking beer, but the bags of shopping beside the television kept obstructing him. At ten PM, he hauled all the bags to his parents’ house. That was the first time he did that, it was not the last time.  During those times, he would put the bags outside his parents’ door, knock on it and quickly hide at the corner and wait. His mother always opened the door. She would look at the branded supermarket bags then look both ways before picking them and shutting the door behind her. Sometimes she would do it quietly, other times she would talk to the invisible philanthropist.

How his mother knew he was the delivery boy was a mystery but the third time he did, she peered into the dark, the opposite direction of where he was, something that had made him chuckle. “Oti! Oti! I know it is you. Thank you for this, but remember the days of a thief are forty. Forty only.” At this point she had put up four fingers and he could tell they were four because he counted them against the light illuminating from the door. “You just remember that.” That had bothered him. There was a possibility that she knew he was a thief, it was often the only ‘slum’ explanation for anyone who seemed to do better than they should have been and because he assumed his mother was in touch with all his siblings, he was the natural suspect. It was also possible she meant that she would catch him at his delivery at some point. He had shrugged and walked away with hands in his pockets, face down, not needing any light to over step poop puddles, thanks to his night vision was close to that of a cat.

That he shopped for his parents had nothing to do with his duty as a son to look after them. He had long accepted he pretty much felt little for all members of his family. He shopped because he could, and it was his way of disposing some of his wealth, wealth he could not share with anyone else for he trusted no one; wealth he could not bank because not only did he not trust banks, but he lacked the required documents to open a bank account. He, like all of his siblings, was born at home, his mother assisted by other slum mothers who had no formal training at midwifery but were just as good. He knew he did not have a birth certificate because when his older siblings asked for theirs to enable them apply for national IDs, the mother’s answer was always “you were born at home.” When Oti turned eighteen, he considered asking for his birth certificate but changed his mind. As far as the government of Kenya was concerned, he, Leviticus Otieno, did not exist.

He needed an identity card to open an account.

A few months working for Boss, he moved to a bigger and ‘better’ house. Where he now lived, only the slum privileged could afford. If he so wished, he could afford to move out of the slum, but Kibera, in the midst of the chaos and the dirt, provided anonymity and security (from law enforcement) he did not believe could be found anywhere else.

Once in a while, he spotted his siblings who all ignored him, visibly quickening their steps or shamelessly changing direction whenever they spotted him. He could not decide if they did that because they hated him, like he suspected they always did, or because they hated how he seemed to be doing much better than all of them combined. His sisters were always trailed by dirty, goo-nosed kids in tattered clothes who bore all evidence that they did not eat often and when they did, they did not eat the right things. His brothers were perpetually drunk, or recovering from a hangover. If misery had a name, he always thought, it would be sharing names with his siblings. He felt bad for them, not the kind of ‘feeling bad’ for a sibling, but the type he felt for anyone, stranger or otherwise, when they looked like misery.

Kibera was a maze only understood by those who lived within it. Were it a straight line, his new house would be not more than five hundred meters from his parents’ house. The maze made it farther. That it was located in a privileged area meant that it did not stand on faecal matter and he did not have to listen to his neighbours having sex, or snoring, or fighting, or gossiping. It was a mud-house, but one could only tell that from outside. Inside, the smooth whitewashed walls kept the secret of the building material. It had a bedroom separate from the sitting room. The sitting room was large enough to allow one corner to be called a kitchen. The toilet and bathroom were within the house, but it was a long-drop toilet.

He had furnished the house with two sofas, there was a large flat screen television standing on a wooden stand. He owned a coffee table, one that had never hosted coffee but instead it was cans of beer, full and empty, and his three remote controls. There was a carpet. It had taken him weeks to remember to leave his shoes at the door and only learned his lesson when he stepped on it and left a big blob of mud, mud he had to scrub because it had bothered him.

His bed, a five by six feet one, was his most prized possession, which was a lot to say, considering how much he loved his television set.  He had grown up with what always felt like a thousand children and sitting space had bred competition amongst his siblings while sleeping space was a matter of luck. In his large bed, he could stretch to whichever direction. Often, he woke up with a start in the middle of the night having dreamed that one of his siblings was asking him to make space for them.

There was a mini fridge. It had no food, only beer. He did not own utensils except for two plastic tumblers he used to drink water. Every meal he had was eaten in a hotel, preferably within the slums.

Every piece of furniture was delivered under the cover of darkness by two delivery men. One of the delivery men was himself and the other one was Kamau.

Oti’s days were spent within the confines of the slums, his house. His nights, at least four of them a week, he left the slums to terrorise Nairobi car owners. Kamau, who had become his most trusted friend, was the only person who knew where he lived. Oti loved women, but not even his love for women lowered his guard enough to invite them to his house. He doubted they would agree to venture into the deep of the slums, unless they were ghetto women, and he wanted nothing to do with those. They could not be trusted. The ghetto, by default, brought up shrewd humans. Allowing them to see his good life would be similar to inviting bigger thieves than himself or law enforcement.  

Unlike Kamau who had a new girlfriend, Oti preferred prostitutes. Whenever he and Kamau completed a job, the only way to bring down his adrenaline levels would be to pick a prostitute and spend the night in a hotel.

“Don’t for a minute think that you are well hidden in the slums. Boss knows exactly where you live and before you ask, no, I did not show him where…” Kamau had warned him after he, Oti, boasted that he was the only one he had ever invited to his house.

“How would he know?”

“If you are asking that, you do not know Boss. He knows everything.” Oti had looked sceptical. “Just do not say I did not warn you. Do not think you can get into mischief because you wrongly think living inside a slum keeps you safe…he knows.”

Initially, mainly because of the excitement of the money, he had kept count of the robberies he was involved in. He lost interest in keeping count after his fiftieth. Now he only kept count of his money, money that was kept not in a bank but in a wooden box, under lock and key, under his bed and at various spots on the ceiling. He tried to spend it but there was nothing much to do with the money. He had all the clothes, expensive ones, he needed. His parents were taken care of. He could afford better looking prostitutes. The rest of the money just piled up and having too much money was becoming his new worry.

***

It was a slow day at the shop and the effect was having the morning drag on and on. With all the other workers at the back of the shop having lunch and gossip as accompaniment, Kerubo sat behind the cash counter, chewing her nails thoughtfully, once in a while scratching her head and in between thinking how she needed to visit the salon to sort the itch.

When the man walked in, she felt him rather than saw him. Since she started working at the shop, she had always wondered how she would react if there was a robbery. If she would use the gun and if she did, how she would explain it to her workers. But when she felt the man, her hair did not stand on end, just a light feeling of discomfort.

‘If your hair does not stand on end, chances are you are fine. Adrenaline from a criminal always triggers those hairs to stand on end for everyone within twenty metres. That’s what people call gut feeling.’ That was Samuel’s repeated advice.

Slowly, she brought her head up and looked at him, gauging him. She knew. She knew he was a thief, but she also knew he was not there to rob her. Perhaps on some sort of recce for a later robbery. His body language was way too relaxed for robbery. She feigned a smile, like she did with all her customers.

“May I help you?” She said, standing up with feet astride, something she did when she was on guard. Something she had learned from Cecelia the human arsenal so many years ago. She was very good at flying kicks and was certain if need be, she could easily do one across the counter.

He smiled. He had a beautiful smile. Most robbers did, like it was a requirement to have a good smile. Or it was something they perfected before becoming robbers. “Hi. I am looking for my sister…”

“Your sister?” Kerubo asked, lifting her brow.

“I believe she works here.” He was looking around the shop at the products. “Her name is Selina…”

“Oh.” The oh was said as she took a step back, thinking about all the conversations she had had with Selina during their tete a tetes. How she suspected her brother was a thief but there was no proof. Kerubo peered at him, studying him. He may have had an evil aura around him, but somewhere in his face was the face of Selina, like a darker version of her. “You do resemble her…” She said, realising her staring at him was making him uncomfortable.

“You must be her boss…” He smiled. Selina had told him about her beautiful boss, the one who apparently did not like to date but preferred one night stands. As he studied her, he wondered what his chances of sleeping with her were. He didn’t fancy his chances, she looked way above his wage bill. Besides, he had a new girlfriend and he was trying to behave.

“I am. Selina is at the back. I will go fetch her.”

She was back within a minute with a confused Selina in tow.

“Kamau, what’s wrong?”

Kerubo almost gasped at her friend’s first words to her brother. Did they not at least say hello to each other.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you here? There has to be something wrong…” Kerubo, standing beside Selina with crossed arms, looked from one sibling to another, taking in their tension and distrust, wondering what her life would have been like if she had a sibling.

Kamau laughed uncomfortably. “Nothing. I was in the neighbourhood and I realised I have never come to see you. That’s all…”

“Oh…” Selina’s sounded relieved by Kerubo still noticed the discomfort.

“Will you excuse me?” Kerubo said, picking Chizi’s lunchbox. “I will let you two catch up. I will be back in twenty minutes…” she could feel both of them following her with their eyes as she crossed the road to the bus stand, to Samuel.

“You are early…and you look flustered.” Samuel remarked, looking at her through half closed eyes. She found him dozing off.

“Yeah. Selina has a visitor…” She said, placing the lunchbox on his lap.

“Aha…” Chizi answered, spitting on the pavement.

“Why do you keep spitting on the ground? It’s uncouth…”

“Sorry.” He said, sounding anything but. “Once in a while I need to spit out the taste of the streets…why is Selina’s visitor of any interest?”

“It’s her brother. I am sure I have told you that she suspects he is some sort of thug, which is just a nice way of saying he is one…”

He nodded. “Okay. There are a lot of criminals walking the street, some we even know by name, yet we don’t care about them unless they interfere with you-know-who or if they actually carry out their criminal activities here. Is there a reason why we should care about this one?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe there is nothing to worry about but for all the years Selina has worked at the shop, he has never visited, and I also know they are not close. Not close enough to warrant checking up on each other…”

“There is always a first. Perhaps he wants to rekindle their relationship.”

“In deed. I would be okay if Selina did not look so shaken when I told her he was looking for her. She was literally shaking and asked him if something was wrong instead of saying hello.”

“Mh…and was something wrong?”

Kerubo shook her head. “Not according to him. But, why did he come, today? What if he for recce, to see where he would hit next?”

Chizi shifted on the bench. “That’s a possibility. What do you have in mind?”

“Watch him, memorise his face. Perhaps follow him as he leaves the shop?”

“Okay.”

“Come on, eat quickly. He may not be there for long. They don’t look like they have a lot to talk about…oh, wait. There he is.” She pointed with her mouth, using her hands to take away the half opened lunchbox. “I will bring the food later. Come on, quick before he disappears…”

“On it…”

Kerubo returned to the shop and found Selina sitting at the same spot she had been sitting on earlier when Kamau had walked in, staring into space.

“You okay?” She asked cautiously.

Selina turned lazily to her friend and sighed. “Yeah…I am…”

“So why do you look like someone died?”

Selina shrugged. “I…I don’t know. Kamau, my brother…he…he just gave me a lot of money…”

“Oh. Shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

Another shrug. “Under normal circumstances yeah.”

Kerubo counted five seconds before asking the next question. “Why are these not normal circumstances?”

Selina allowed her eyes to linger on Kerubo’s, like someone trying to communicate through osmosis. She shrugged.

“The thing is,” she said instead of answering Kerubo’s question. "Dad needs this money. Kamau wants me to give it to him.”

Another pause. “Why can’t he do that himself?”

Selina focussed on Kerubo again, like she wanted to see if she could be trusted. “I know I have told you that I suspect Kamau is not very straight?”

“Criminal…”

“Well, yes. dad, and everyone at home believes it too. Sometime back, the two of them fought about it. Dad told him to get an honest job. Of course he denied the accusations that he is a criminal, insisted he is car salesman, but dad, and the rest of us are not stupid. He asked Kamau not to give her money anymore, blood money, he called it. Dad is a staunch Christian…”

“Wow…”

Selina sighed before covering her face with her palm. “Dad is unwell...”

“You never told me that.” She said accusingly.

“Sorry. Just one of those things…Anyway, he needs an urgent operation. Heart operation. I do not know who among my siblings told Kamau, but one of them did…”

“O…okay. What do you want to do?”

Selina shut her eyes like one in pain, then shook her head in frustration. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. I need, we need this money. But what if we are right and it is blood money?”

Kerubo shrugged, unable to see the dilemma. “The blood is not on your hands…”

“It would be though, because I KNOW it is blood money. What would you do?”

Kerubo looked at Selina for a while then looked away, unable to take in the frustration, the uncertainty in her friend’s eyes. She knew what Selina wanted to do, she also knew that Selina wanted her, Kerubo to give the go ahead, perhaps to shift the blame of blood money to someone else.

“What would I do? I would take it and stop thinking too much about it. The way I see it, you are choosing between letting your dad die by not getting him the operation and taking money that may or not be blood money. I wouldn’t worry about where the money came from. I would take the money and give my dad a chance at life…” As she said those words, for the first time in a long time, she thought about her late alcoholic parents. She remembered how unmoved she had been when Mrs Kamau had told her that her mother was ailing. How she had been unable to walk in and face her – perhaps, she thought, she had missed the only opportunity she had of having a sober conversation with her mother. How she had not felt compelled to attend her father’s burial. “If I loved my father and was desperate for him to live, I would take the money without a second thought. The rest are details you cannot afford to be bothered with.”

Selina gave a long sigh of relief. “But how will I explain the source of the money? As recently as yesterday, nobody had any money. This is a lot of money.” She touched her jeans, allowing Kerubo saw the bulge.

“Tell him I lent it to you.”

“Thank you.”

As Kerubo pulled Selina towards her for a hug, noting the confusion of relief and uncertainty on her face, hoping she would not regret egging her on to take the money.

***

When Kerubo had asked Chizi to trail Kamau, he had, but the trail had lasted ten minutes because Kamau hopped into a matatu destined for Eastlands.

That evening.

Chizi waited for the cover of darkness and for Kirinyaga Road to retreat into the shell of quietness. Kirinyaga Road, at day time, was a mad house of sorts. People milled around like confused safari ants. Vehicles hooted with impatience because traffic jam along the road was part of its allure. Motor bikes hooted at people on the pavements because they wanted to use the same pavements, sending the rightful users jumping into shops for safety. The mechanics were a cheerful and loud lot, but they were a menace to anyone not interested in having their vehicle repaired as they insisted on diagnosing perfectly working vehicles. The tropical sun seemed to burn hotter in downtown Nairobi, making everyone jittery and taking away their patience.

At night, the tentacles of madness recoiled. For non-veterans, the quietness was eerie, not for Chizi.  There was more darkness than light on the streets because most of the street lights had done their time but not replaced. There were a few lit buildings, but only because some Asian families stubbornly refused to vacate the convenience of city houses, houses their forefathers had occupied during the scramble for Nairobi. A street family, the same one that had brought up Boss, the same one he still controlled, lived on the same spot at the end of the street.

When Kirinyaga Road went to sleep, it was cue for Chizi to sleep or, like today, it was time to transform himself. Today, he was starting his one week break away from the streets. Being a lover of Superman and Spiderman, he imagined himself as one of them as he shed of his street clothes, slipping into the set of cleaner clothes delivered by Kerubo. Cleaning his face was always the hardest part of his job. He would use sheets upon sheets of disposable face wipes and only stopped when his skin started feeling raw.

He knew he stunk. The smell of crime and days of not having a shower penetrated deep into his veins through his skin, it was a smell that the sponge bath he had before changing could never get rid of.  The stink no longer bothered him but it bothered other people he came into contact with. The disgusted looks he got from passengers was the reason he stopped riding matatus on the way home. Now, he would have Kerubo drive his car to town and hand him the keys at lunch time. 

When he was dressed as a mad man, nobody bothered him as he gallivanted at night. The minute he was smartly, or at least cleanly dressed, he would attract all sorts of unwanted attention. Whenever he cleaned up and started his night walk to his car, he would have to scare off a thief or two with his gun.

***

As Samuel climbed up the stairs to his third floor flat, the speed and force of his heartbeat threatened to destabilise his footing. It always happened with this final stretch, the final staircase. Not because he was unfit, but the excitement would be so much that by the time he opened his door with shaky hands and shut it behind him, he would have to lean on it for a while as he waited to calm down. 

He switched on the light and continued standing by the door, taking in the room, not only to re-familiarise himself, but to check if there was anything out of order. Satisfied that nobody had broken in, in his absence, he kicked off his shoes and went straight to the bathroom to run a bath. He would have two of those. The first one would stain the bathtub with grime and grease and stink. He would drain that, clean the tub with an antiseptic before running a second bath, one he would lace with a cocktail of his favourite aromas. Two scented candles would be at the foot end of the bath. By the time he was satisfied there was no smell of the street, his skin would be creased like an old piece of cloth. He would oil every accessible part of it.

Only then did he dare walk into other rooms, starting with the kitchen to fetch a cold can of beer from the fridge, one he would hold with his hands and ignore his frozen hand. He lived in a three bedroom apartment. He was wealthy, he owned two bungalows in different parts of the city, but his prolonged absences from home would only attract criminals to rob him blind. He chose this apartment in Kitengela, one he also owned. He had converted one room, the largest of them, into a library/study. It was where he filed his reports, it was where he caught up with his clearing and forwarding business, one he had inherited from his parents. It was in this room where he had his books. Books. They were the only things he missed most when he was on the streets. Books and a woman’s naked body next to him, mostly books because they never disturbed his peace when he needed to be left alone.

Tonight, as he did with every first night he was home, he would eat. And get drunk. And watch television. Not even his priced books would be touched, those would have to wait an extra day to get his attention.

***

That Samuel was a former soldier who had slept rough most of his working life and had collected life skills that enabled him to cope in the streets better than most people would. Sleeping in the bush alongside snakes and possible human and wild predators had been daunting when he was still an active soldier, but he preferred that to spending nights on the cold pavements of the concrete jungle.   

He was a man used to sleeping on the ready. He was a man who slept with all his senses on alert and that was why when Kerubo’s call woke him up the following day at nine AM, he was still holding a near empty can of beer, one that was still upright.

“You still asleep?” She laughed after hearing his groggy hello. “I guess you deserve to ass around. Anyway, I cannot make it today. Mrs Kamau needs to go to see her mother in Nyeri and she asked me to drive her and quite honestly I did not try to refuse. I need me some fresh air, and there is a wonderful hairdresser who could do wonders on my hair.”

Samuel forced himself to sit up, careful not to make sudden movements because his head felt ready to fall of his head. “That sucks.” He said and yawned. “I had such beautiful plans for us…”

“I know. I was kinda looking forward to taking care of those cobwebs you are dragging about.” They both laughed. “Anyway, you take care, I will probably see you on Monday after work.”

He was disappointed but not heartbroken. He liked spending time with Kerubo for more than the good sex they had together. Kerubo, he was certain, was his female version. They thought like. They were both tough as nails. They did not have family to worry about and lived for today. They were both confused on whose camp they were working for, the law or the criminals, but they both accepted the earth was a different galaxy from Utopia. Neither wanted to get tied down with relationships.

He placed the can on the nearest stool and stretched his body, starting with the neck. Satisfied he had not developed brittle bones in his sleep, he went to the kitchen to look for something to eat, and a beer, and decide if he wanted to wait to have sex with Kerubo on Monday, or go to town and find himself a woman.

First, he needed to roast some meat, his way.

***

           

By two PM, Samuel was well fed. He had drank two cans of beer to clear his hangover and when he drove out of his compound, he felt fresh. His first stop was the barbershop, then he needed to get himself a body massage. Then he needed to find a clothes shop and buy underwear. Then he needed to go to the supermarket and stock-up his fridge for the week.

By six PM, he was back home. He attempted to read a book but ended up drifting off. He tried to watch a movie but ended up dozing off. So he took a long shower, dressed up and drove to town. He needed a woman.

When he picked the same pub he had first met Kiki, there was only a glimmer of hope that he would find her there. He had not gone there to look for her, but that he had discussed her with Kerubo over the week had reminded him that there was something about the pub he had loved. The ambience was perfect, and the noise was less than in most of the pubs in the vicinity.

The pub was busy, humming with conversations and bursts of laughter. He selected a table at one corner, a vantage point that allowed him to observe prostitutes and potential criminals. He ordered for a beer and allowed his eyes to sweep across the room.

When he saw her, he spluttered his drink that found its way to some people on the next table. He apologised without looking at them, his eyes digging hard towards Kiki, blinking several times to ensure he was no hallucinating. He was not. His instinct was to walk to her immediately but he stayed put because he felt too excited.

He watched her. She was still on the prowl, he could tell that from her body language. That confused him a little. Was the biggest thug in Nairobi okay with his woman selling herself? Was it also possible that the two were just friends, that there was nothing intimate between them? He dismissed the last thought. He had watched the two of them several times – there was nothing but sexual gestures between the two of them. He waited because he also needed to weigh the risks of trying to take her home – what if Boss was not aware? What if he had her followed, and he had no doubt that Boss had her followed, and he got himself shot in a love triangle that had no love from his side?

He could not be sure why he followed her eye-line, but he did. Having observed her for over twenty minutes, he noticed that she kept looking towards one point, not for long, but for an observant person, someone trained to look for details that did not look important but ended up being the most important, he noticed. So he followed her eye-line and nearly spluttered again.

“I will be damned!” He declared, looking from Kiki to Kamau back to Kiki several times. “What are the chances…”

He dug out for his phone. He needed to talk to Kerubo. Then he paused because Kiki was talking to a man. She was laughing, flirtatious even. Samuel cursed under his breath, then relaxed when he saw Kiki shaking her head, dismissing the man. So maybe she was no longer selling herself. But then there was that exchange of quick looks with Kamau.

When Samuel dialled Kerubo’s number, he let his eyes linger on Kamau. He was sitting with another man. Kamau was drinking bottled water while the other man was on soda. They both sat facing Kiki’s direction, both sat like they were waiting for someone to say go for them to start running to something. Bodyguards, perhaps? He knew Boss used bodyguards for himself, perhaps he was doing it for his girlfriend?

“Hey, missed me?” Kerubo answered. “Goodness, are you in hell? It’s rather loud wherever you are…”

“…And then some. How is Nyeri?”

“Alright. Nice and quiet and I can count the stars, and it’s full moon. I had forgotten about stuff like full moon.”

Samuel smiled when Kerubo laughed. She sounded happy. Relaxed. Perhaps he should take a few days to visit Nyeri.

“But you did not call to ask me how Nyeri is. What’s up?”

Samuel smiled. She knew him so well. “Well, I am out and about, and you will never guess who are in the same pub with me…”

“…Boss and his prostitute girlfriend…”

“Ouch. Do you have to call her prostitute?”

“She is one, isn’t she? Plus we do not know her name…”

“Well yeah, I guess you are right. Anyway, she is here, Boss is not. Someone else is though…”

“You are killing me with suspense…”

He smiled again, imagining her rolling her eyes with impatience. “Kamau…”

“Which Kamau?”

“How many do you know?”

“Selina’s brother?”

“Bingo…”

“They are together?”

He shook his head. “No and yes…”

“What does that even mean?”

“I am trying to work it out. They are sitting separately, but they seem to be exchanging these looks that tell me they are together or at least know each other. Kamau is with another man. Rough looking kinda guy. I am wondering if they could be her bodyguards…”

“Possible. But you do not sound convinced…you think Kamau knows Boss?”

“I don’t think so. I know so. I don’t know how, I just do.”

Kerubo took time to answer. He could imagine her head working. “Wow…what do you want to do?”

“Get to the bottom of this…”

“How? Please do not try and pick her. If she is his girlfriend, you do not want an altercation with him…”

“…I cannot try and pick Kamau. I prefer women because they are softer and they have boobs…”

She giggled. “You know what I mean.”

“Do not worry about me. I am a big boy…anyway, let me try my luck with her. She has already rejected two men in the last ten minutes. I may be the lucky number three…” He disconnected the call, stood up, touched his waistline to look for his gun, then remembered he had left it in the car.

She saw him approaching her and smiled. He tried on his best smile. Kerubo often told him to smile often because he had a good smile. It seemed to work.

“Hey…do you mind if I …stand next to you, seeing that there are no free seats?”

“Absolutely not. I was getting fed up of talking to myself…” She said charmingly. He could swear he saw her steal a look towards Kamau, but he did wonder if he was being paranoid.

“Surely no. A hot woman like you cannot be allowed to be on her own…” He was leaning sideways towards the counter, facing her. She turned her whole body towards him, giving him the full view of her short skirt, one that just needed to ride higher an inch and it would reveal the secrets of her underwear. She placed one of her manicured hands on her lap, rubbing it softly. He watched shamelessly.

“I have had some offers for company, they were all boring…” She said this as she leaned closer to him, giving him part view of her bust. It was a small bust, he already knew that from their previous encounter, but he loved it.

“It’s your lucky day. I am as charming as they come.” He said, touching her chin with his index finger, feeling the excitement of danger.

So, by now he knew, she was still selling herself. What did Boss have to say about it? If Kamau was her bodyguard, did it mean Boss was alright with her?

“Such faith in yourself…” she said with a giggle. She was thinking how handsome he looked. And familiar, but then again, everyone was familiar one way or another. If she was still selling herself, she was thinking, he looked like the kind of guy she could enjoy spending time with. Too bad he was about to lose his vehicle tonight. She hoped he did not try to be a hero by fighting Kamau and Oti. He looked like the kind of guy who would try to be a hero.

“You must be new around here…”

“On the contrary. I come here often…are you a regular?” He nodded. “How could I missed you then? I am a regular too…”

“I only let myself be seen when I want to be seen....” He said, taking a gulp of his beer straight from the bottle.

“What are you, a private investigator?” She asked, raising her brow.

He laughed loudly. “You could say that.” He looked at her empty glass and nodded towards it. “Would you like your soda refilled?”

She looked at him, then at her empty glass, back and forth several times before finally settling her eyes on him. “What do you want?”

“Well...this might surprise you, but I just want to chat.”

She almost believed him. He looked so serious, but there was that hint of a smile that appeared after a few seconds.

“Puh! Chat, year right...and I want to be a bishop...no man just wants to chat with me...”

“That is really sad, but believe it or not, I would like to chat…besides other things. You look like an interesting person who could get my complicated jokes.” He said with a wink, rubbing his nose vigorously, leaving Naliaka to wonder if the rubbing was part of the joke or his nose was actually itchy.

She chuckled. “What would you like to chat about?” She asked, deciding to indulge him. He was cute, and he smelled nice.

He Shrugged. “I do not really have an agenda...but have you never just wanted to chat...about nothing in particular?” Samuel was half serious. In his line of undercover work, he did not get to talk to many people. Kerubo was at the top of his list, and he appreciated that he could talk more than work with her. He spoke to Onyango, but only when giving his reports. He spoke to his fellow undercover agents, but hardly ever. He spoke to the man who ran the business in his absence, he did not have relatives he liked enough to want to chat to, he had the curse of being an only child of rich but now dead parents and they had never been the chatting type. He was a soldier who retired prematurely and it often saddened him that he had not made any real friends while in the forces. When he picked up women, he did so with crossed fingers, that they would be people he could have above average conversations with.

“I have, but right now I am working. If you just want to talk, you still have to pay me…” She took the empty glass and started sniffing at it, eyes trained on him.

 “So if I pay you, you will listen?”

“That’s what I said. But I need to trust you first…right now, I don’t feel like I trust you enough...”

“You are a bad judge of character, I am an extremely good person...”

“I am sure your mother thinks so, but I am not your mother...” He laughed, so did she. The ice was thawed. “I however think talking is not your main agenda.”

“What do you think I want?” he countered, holding her gaze.

“Where do you live?”

He caught himself in time, about to ask why she was not taking him to a hotel like last time. He remembered her insisting that she did not go to strangers’ houses. “Just before Kitengela. It’s a long ride…”

“Are you sober enough to drive?”

He laughed loudly. “I believe I am…” His phone vibrated in his pocket. As he checked the message from Kerubo warning him to be careful, he saw her tapping on her phone. At the other corner of his eye, he saw Kamau on the phone. Again, he knew there was a possibility of he being paranoid, plus there was still the strong possibility that Kamau was a body guard and she was telling him she was leaving.

‘I will be fine.’ He tapped his reply to Kerubo.

“Girlfriend?” Kiki was asking. He looked at her in confusion. “I mean, is girlfriend disturbing you?” She said, pointing at his phone with her mouth.

He laughed. “You could say that, but tonight, I would like to call you my girlfriend. Shall we leave?”

“Not before we negotiate terms…”

***

Kiki and Samuel walked out hand in hand like old lovers. A couple of times, they looked at each other. He grinned at her, she giggled. He pinched her bottoms, she yelped playfully.

As he opened the car door for her, a sudden feeling of doom descended on him. At the same time, he felt like someone was watching him. He looked around him, but there were many people going about their business. He shrugged, doubting anyone would have the guts to do a nasty on him on such a busy street. His phone beeped with a message. He did not bother with it. He knew it was Kerubo, most likely with another warning.

“Are you okay?” She asked from inside. He had been standing outside her side of the door for almost a minute.

“I am fine. I was trying to decide if I should have taken a piss inside, or if I can hold it all the way home…”

She laughed. “Do like every second man does and piss behind the car…”

“The horror.” He said as he sat behind the wheel. “My mother would turn in her grave.” Samuel hated taking a pee in the open during his time off. He spent most of his time peeing on the streets, he reckoned it was enough to last him a lifetime.

“Right. Here we go…”

He eased his Mercedes out of the parking lot and drove off. On his rear view mirror, he saw a vehicle behind him, then another one, and he laughed at himself. It was a Saturday night, it was only natural that there would be many vehicles on the road. His gun was never at the glove compartment, he preferred to put it in the door pocket beside him. He touched it and felt reassured.

“You are quiet…and too busy on the phone.” He remarked.

She laughed. “I am just chatting to a friend. I am done though…”

He put his hand on her soft thigh. She squeezed his hand.

“You are such a beautiful woman, you know that?” He meant it. Her rough life did not seem to have taken away any of her beauty. She still looked as beautiful as he had first seen her.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I do what I do?”

He chuckled. “Why would I do that? I am not your guardian, I just want to have sex with you, not redeem you.”

She laughed loudly, feeling genuinely amused. “I like you. You are funny.”

“I hear that a lot, which is weird because I don’t intentionally crack jokes…”

She laughed again.

“So you get many men asking you that?” His hand was riding up her thigh. He could feel her thighs opening.

“Like you have no idea. It’s actually a very annoying question because, if they were genuinely bothered by what I do, why do they come to me?”

He shrugged. “I guess it is their way of trying to convince themselves that they are not bad people, that they are trying to make you see the error of your ways…”

“By shagging and paying me for it? Please…”

There was still a vehicle behind him.

“I never did ask your name…”

“Kiki.”

“Nice. My name is Samuel…”

That was when it happened, and he had time to compose himself because he saw it coming. They were approaching the junction that branched off to Imara Daima when the vehicle behind him suddenly accelerated and cut him off. If he had not screeched to a stop, they would have bumped his side of the car. Kiki screamed. He cursed and reached for his gun, quickly tucking it inside his right sock. Times like these were the reason he wore sports socks, the only ones that could hold his gun safely. His left sock had his spare phone and some money.

Just in time too because within seconds, Kamau and his sidekick were with them.

He could have easily taken them, shot them both within seconds, but he did not. At this point, he was hoping that he was right, that Kamau worked for Boss because that would mean chances of getting shot were very low. He hoped they did not search his socks because if they found the gun, the stakes would change against him.

It played out like a 3D movie. He felt like he was watching one. Oti had a gun on his temple and warning him against any resistance. Kamau roughly pulled Kiki out of the passenger seat, pushed her in the back seat, replaced Kiki on the passenger seat then Oti joined Kiki. It must have all taken about ten seconds.

“Drive!” Kamau ordered.

With calmness that bothered Naliaka, Samuel reversed the car, drove round the car blocking him and pulled away. “Drive faster!” He did. “Stop!” He pulled by the side of the road just before the intersection going into the JKIA. “Quickly, give me your phones and wallets. Both of you!” They did. “What’s your bank pin number?” He gave them. “Now, get out!” They did, and they both stood, shivering in the night cold, and watched his tail lights being quickly swallowed by distant darkness.

Then Samuel started laughing.

Kiki was crying. “Why are you laughing?” She demanded, feeling slightly irritated. He was changing the usual script. He was supposed to be hysterical, like all the others. He was supposed to be crying for his car, an expensive car for that matter. That he was so calm and now laughing was making her jittery.

“What the fuck…I mean, I just got jacked!”

“And that’s funny? You just lost an expensive car. They took your phone and your money. They will probably sweep your bank. They took everything I had. What’s funny about that?”

“Please…I don’t know about you, but the car is insured. The phone is insured. I gave them the wrong pin…”

“You what?! Are you crazy?”

“What? You think they will come back to ask me I gave them the wrong pin? Please…”

“That is so risky…” She was thinking how upset Kamau and Oti would be. Then she started smiling, then stopped because the phone hidden in her bra was ringing.

“What’s that?” He demanded.

“A phone…I have two phones and I hide one…well, in my boobs.”

Then he burst out in laughter for the second time. “I like you.” He meant it. “Well, pick it…”

She did. She started crying on the phone, explaining how she had been carjacked with a friend and abandoned on a dangerous section of Mombasa Road and how she needed rescue. “It is alright. Do not come for me. I will summon Uber from this phone…” She concluded before disconnecting.

As she spoke on the phone, Samuel was taking a piss and watching her at the same time. Through the darkness, through the lights of one or two vehicles that passed by, he noted her body language. His heightened senses knew she was acting with the conversation she was having, but he did not worry too much. He was happy enough that the puzzle of Boss, Kiki and Kamau had finally fallen into place. Now, what to do with the information he had.

***

Half an hour later, the two lone figures were still on the highway. Every Uber taxi they summoned cancelled as soon as they realised they were being summoned to the middle of nowhere. “Well, you cannot really blame them. If I were them, I would cancel too. We are in the middle of nowhere.” Samuel joked in encouragement. “Also, this is Nairobi. Carjackers left right and centre…the very reason we are here…” He thought he heard her gasp.

The weather was not being nice go them either. The airport area was known to behave like desert weather at night, crispy cold and windy. They were suffering the cold. In her skimpy clothes, she was shivering, he could even hear her teeth clutter. The robbers had left him his jacket and he knew he could thank the location they had chosen, that they had not had time to strip him off everything. Mombasa Road was a busy highway, hardly any luxury time to strip off victims. As he listened to Kiki shiver, he considered being a gentleman by offering his jacket, then he had a better idea. He pulled her towards him, encamping her inside his jacket. She shivered again then sighed. 

“Thank you…” she whispered, letting her head rest on his chest and breathing in his cologne.

“You are welcome. This way, if the lions find us, they may hesitate to attack because we will look like confusing prey – big with four arms and four legs and four eyes…” He meant it to be another joke, but he felt her tense and lift her head to look around her.

“There are lions?”

“Hopefully not, but this area is on the periphery of Nairobi National Park – you cannot be too careful.”

Neither could tell who initiated the kiss, but the kiss happened. It was long, and sensual, and comforting, and it provided both with the warmth both their bodies craved for. Samuel allowed his hands to seek her thighs, she allowed him to ride his hands up the thighs. Then they started giggling.

“We must look a sight.” He remarked, pulling away from her. “We must be an interesting sight for people driving by…do you think there will be social media posts about us?”

She giggled. “They will probably think we are ghosts…”

“Two ghosts who are lovers. I can even imagine the stories; that we must have been lovers, we had an accident on this very spot and our ghosts have refused to rest…” They laughed. “Anyway, we better find a way to get out of here. Give me your phone…” He could have used his own phone, but he was hesitant about letting her know he also had a secret phone.

“Who are you going to call?”

“I have a friend who lives around here. If he is home, he will rescue us. You are still welcome to come to my house.”

As Samuel made the call, Naliaka considered the pros and cons of going home with him. She wanted to, at least her body wanted to. Even her mind wanted to because he was so funny and calm, and she wanted to know a little more about a man who could manage to be so calm in such a storm. But also, she was hesitant, hesitant because she was feeling vulnerable around him, afraid that she may let something slip. And she did not fancy another fight with Boss, a man who was becoming more and more protective over her.

In the end, she opted to go home, her home. Samuel’s friend, who was really a workmate, had picked them up in twenty minutes. They had driven her to Buru Buru and waited until the gateman let her in before driving away.

***

Kerubo was laughing on the phone. “You are kidding me, right?”

Samuel, on the other end of the phone, was also laughing. When his workmate had dropped him home in Kitengela, he had showered, eaten left over food, opened a can of beer, one he had hope would bring down his adrenaline levels, but they had remained up there, likely  higher the more he thought of it. Morning had found him watching television, opening his sixth can of beer. “I wish was kidding, but they actually jacked me…”

“Oh wow. I told you to be careful but you didn’t listen. See your life now…”

“I was careful. I didn’t get myself shot, did I? In fact, you should be congratulating me because I now know how Boss operates. I even doubt Onyango knows this…”

“True that. What are you going to do now…with the information I mean?”

Samuel shrugged to himself. He had thought about it a lot, he still did not know. He could volunteer the information to Onyango, he would definitely know what to do with it, but then again, he had not been asked to find out how Boss worked. Maybe it was supposed to be a secret and confessing that he knew would just be similar to poking a hornet’s nest. He told Kerubo as much.

“For now, this information is just between you and me. It needs to stay that way, for the sake of two of us…”

“I understand.” She did. They worked in an industry that did not allow anyone to trust anyone completely. They were even allowed to distrust their own partners up to some point, just for self-preservation. She did not have a reason not to trust Samuel though, yet. “But what are you going to do next?”

“Find her.”

“What? Why would you do that?”

“Just…we have some unfinished business.”

Kerubo clicked her tongue. “Jeez. The fall of every great man has been caused by thinking with the wrong head…”

“But think about it, being close to her can only be a good thing…”

“…or your death sentence.”

“I will take my chances…”

Kerubo sighed in surrender. She understood his line of thought. It did not mean she wanted to lose him to Boss, or to Kiki for that matter.

***

At about the same time Kerubo was on the phone with Samuel, Naliaka’s woke up. The first thing she did was check her phone. There were ten missed calls, nine of them from a persistent Boss and one from Queen. She checked the messages, there was one from Queen, reminding her that there would be a party later at the house to celebrate her birthday. 
She confirmed attendance on text and called Boss.

“Hey, are you okay?” He sounded worried, a tone that made Naliaka feel guilty about muting her ringtone.  

“I am okay…”

“What happened last night?”

“It was crazy…” She started. And the more she thought about it, the crazier the experience sounded to her. How could anyone be so calm in the face of a robbery? What kind of a man was he?

“Yeah, but that happens once in a while. Usually, that kind of calm happens with people who have been jacked before, people who understand it is not a matter of life and death if they remain calm…”

“Oh…”

“…Or…or with wealthy people. Wealthy people don’t get hysterical about losing material things as long as they can stay safe. Vehicles are replaceable…” Naliaka remembered Samuel’s comment about insurance.

“Oh…”

“I am glad you are alright though. What time do I send the driver to pick you up?”

It was now a ritual. The day after a night job, she would go to his house to collect her phone and handbag. They would eat, laugh, and he would give her oral sex, something he was getting very good at. A couple of times, she had performed oral sex on him and although it had not turned up the way both had expected, she smiled when his manhood went up and down, like it was having repeated false starts, and she had loved it when he had sighed with pleasure. Perhaps there was hope. There was hope.

Today though, Naliaka was not in the mood for any kind of sex. She was spaced out. Boss kept repeating his sentences because she kept missing them, interrupting her thoughts of Samuel. Eventually, she asked him to take her to see Queen.

“Are you alright though?” He asked with concern. He was a man who operated at optimum by knowing what people around him were thinking. A slight change in behaviour of people around him alarmed him.

“I am alright…I think I am just a little tired.”

“Not sick?”

She shook her head. “No…or it could be possible. It was very cold yesterday and we were exposed for almost an hour…”

He relaxed. “Yeah. That could be it. I could ask you to let me take care of you, but I also know when you need to see Queen, nothing can stop you…” He said with a smile.
"It's her birthday, I wouldn't miss it for anything."
"Oh, we need to get her a present then. What does she like?"
At first she thought he was joking. Then it got her angry with herself, that for all those years she had been present during Queen's birthdays, she had never bought her a present. She could swear none of the other girls had either. But then again, she thought, what could one give to Queen, a woman who had everything? "I don't know...perhaps jewelry?"
"Then we need to buy some for her. And a cake."
"She will have cake though..."
"It doesn't matter. You can never have enough cake."
She laughed, looking at him quizzically. "You sound like someone who enjoys birthday parties..."
He laughed. "If there were parties to attend, I would enjoy but I have never had an opportunity. But I learn a lot from television..."

She smiled in appreciation and when he bent down to kiss her, she let him. She let him suck out all her negative thoughts, her frustrations about things she could not understand, like how could she be enjoying what Boss was doing to her right now and the same time wonder how it would feel to do it with Samuel and as if that was not enough, wonder if he could outdo Father Joshua? The thug, the priest and the mysterious stranger.

Boss kissed her, gently pushing her down on the sofa, parting her legs with his own, continued to dry-hump her, not letting his mouth leave hers, his hands seeking her pleasure points on different parts of her body, until she whimpered with pleasure.

***