French Fries Fiasco

Ita waiter Ita waiter... We all sang to the major hit by the self-proclaimed Super producer, super Mc and super D.J Madtraxx. I would rather think of him as the Kenyan Fat Joe. Hassan, Omollo and myself had finally landed our first jobs after campus. Knowing that jobs are hard to come by in the country unless you have "connections" , we decided to celebrate of this auspicious achievement by binging on cupious amounts of alcohol. Hassan being the non-alcoholic guy he is, was sipping his chilled Del-Monte mango juice while the real kings Omollo and myself drank our warm pilsner beers. It was only right that we went to the best joint along Moi Avenue cause we weren't yet up that social life ladder to party in those high class lounges and restaurants in Westlands known as the party district of Nairobi where socialites, politicians, musicians, bloggers, twitter bigwigs and those twitter hunnies looking for sponsors all meet and take selfies only to post pictures with lots of filters on Instagram. At about 11:30 pm, we decided to call it a night because being the gentlemen we were decided that we shouldn't party till late as one wise man once said to me at a Goldman elevator, "Never stay out after midnight three nights in a row… Unless something really good comes up on the third night." We made our way to get some tasty french fries and scrumptious chicken at Sonford a popular fast food joint in the CBD. We stood outside Sonford to check if our wallets had enough financial muscles to flex our way into the joint. We saw two police officers approaching us. Being good law abiding citizens we stood our ground. The men in blue asked us why we were in town so late at night. I thought to myself that where they were standing was daytime, crazy huh? "Kujeni hapa nje ya sonford!" , ordered one of the officers via his 'Over Over', I swear I have forgotten what the queens language correct word is for those devices they carry. Lol! We tried to defend ourselves by stating that we were students at Thee U.o.N . The officers demanded that we produce our student identification cards something we clearly lacked being alumnis now. One of those light bulb moments came to me, I logged into our online portal and showed the officers our timetable and list of units to prove that we were students. He however shockingly told me that I had downloaded that information. Dearie me, we are in the Digital dispensation according to Kamwana and Arap Mashamba right? We found ourselves at the police station after arguing with the officers inside the Kenyan police Land Cruiser. Hassan finally called his parents to inform them of the incident while I texted my friend Phillip and told him where we were being held. Omollo was confused being the first time for him to be arrested and only suggested we pay a bribe so that we could be released. Corruption alert! The officer at the Occurence book slapped me! How dare he? "I know my rights", I yelled and this stunned him into silence. Thank you Boniface Mwangi for teaching Kenyans to be courageous albeit your methods sometimes bewilder me. Phillip had already arrived at the station and found me still in a stand-off with the officers for refusing to say my name so that it could be recorded in the O.B. Hassan had also resisted the same but was somehow scared of the cops. Omollo on the other hand had complied and was somewhere in a holding cell in the station. I gave Phillip all my belongings and told him to get us bail money before Morning. Our offence read Drunk and disorderly! It was tough sleeping on the cold floor and Hassan kept telling me that we would be bailed out in the morning cause he had called his father who served as a senior administrator in the national police service. The cell was full of drunk and rowdy people. It had three other small rooms, one a toilet and the other two solitary cells for the hardened criminals I got to learn. When we woke up in the morning, Omollo was nowhere to be seen. He had paid the officers Kshs 1500 and had been released. Cunning cunt! I saw Phillip and Hassans brother Jay trying to haggle with the officers through a tiny bar of metals on the metallic door. It literally dawned on me that we were behind bars ! Breakfast was brought by a shaggy looking young man who was also the official brand ambassador and peddler of B.A.T products in the cell. Tea and Bread, mmh I was impressed. We started joking how real friends come to bail you out while true friends are those who sit next to you in jail. Time seemed to have frozen and all I could do was sleep some more. Lunch time came and by now the cell had few people who were still in their drunken stupor. Hassan was literally cracking me up with swahili sayings in the cell, one of the funniest of them all, 'Mwache Kuku ale mchele akikua tutamla na wali' . It also tickled other cellmates and we were starting to gain popularity in the cell. Rockstars !! It was around 5:00 P.M. when the Officer Commanding Station came to pay the cell a visit. He gave us a speech on issues such as bail money, cleanliness and other gibberish. He even appointed a prefect amongst us. Finally he told us to air out our grievances. Together with Hassan we lifted our hands up while other cellmates just started shouting their grievances like it was an open air market. "Order! Order!", the angry O.C.S shouted. Everybody kept quiet. He chose Hassan and told him to speak up. Hassan went on and on about how he was a muslim and that he doesn't drink. He also stated that we were students at Thee U.O.N with no I.D Cards and spoke of how I had Ulcers and the condition of the cell wasn't conducive. Brilliant work Mr. Boniface Mwangi! After feigning the illness Hassan had self diagnosed me with, the O.C.S told us to wait for his official communication about our grievances. Tick Tock! It was two hours later and no word about our release from the cell by the O.C.S . Phillip hadn't managed to raise the Kshs 4,000 bail money needed for the both of us. Hassan started what was sort of a mini revolution in the cell. He rallied people to demand that the officers release me who was 'sick'. "Nakufa hapa Cell" , I yelled. This prompted the cell mates to bang on the metallic door shouting, "Afande mwache huyu student msick aende". The Officers had little options by now and opened the door to release us. Hassan took his shoe. It is mandatory to leave one shoe at the O.B desk once you are jailed. I pretended that I had no energy to walk and was limping just to spice up what was a master craft by the Genius himself, Hassan! "Yaani Kenya siku hizi ni hatia kununua chips!", Hassan joked while we laughed heartily as we left the police station. *D.J - Disc Jockey for my fellow older folk!