Plight Of The Boychild : Kyalo's Story

Kyalo had just finished high school and was looking for employment. Being the first born in a family of six, he knew he had to get a job to help his parents and his siblings. His father was a peasant farmer while the mother was a house wife. People like Kyalo didn't dream of joining college. Their only goal in life was getting a job, get married and fill the earth as instructed by God in the Bible. It is just the way things were in Kathiani, Machakos County.

After working odd jobs, buying goats, reselling the goats after a while and saving his profits, Kyalo decided it was time to go look for greener pastures in Mombasa where his Uncle Kimanzi resided. He had heard stories of how easy it was to get a well paying job in the coastal town. After all, his Uncle was uneducated yet worked at Kenya Ports Authority and was one of the richest people in Kathiani. Maybe, just maybe Kyalo would follow in his footsteps...

Kyalo bid his family goodbye and embarked on his journey of financial freedom. His was a clear mission, go to Syokimau Terminus station, board the SGR and get to Mombasa where he would meet his Uncle who would accommodate him as he looked for a job. Kyalo sat next to a very beautiful girl on the Madaraka Express train. He was the first to break the awkward silence and later would learn that Kate was actually on a 'mission' similar to his. She was going to look for employment and would be staying with her sister who worked as a bartender in Mombasa. The only difference was that it wasn't her first time going to Mombasa. They talked for the entire duration of the journey and even exchanged contacts.

On arrival, Kyalo offered to buy Kate a meal at a restaurant at the Mombasa Terminus as he waited for his Uncle to come pick him up. Kyalo donning a pair of "simbaland" boots, a skinny jeans and having a 'stylish' haircut akin to those single moms shave their toddlers, he considered himself a 'mjanjez'. Luckily for him, he didn't have to spend his hard earned cash buying Kate a meal because his Uncle called him even before she could order anything. His Uncle was already waiting for him at the parking lot. Kate asked Kyalo to introduce her to his Uncle. 

Mr. Kimanzi as he liked to be addressed was a middle aged man with a big belly probably from drinking lots of beer and eating nyama choma. He offered to take Kate to her sister's place. She gladly accepted and even sat hapo mbele while Kyalo was left putting both their suitcases in the boot of his Uncle's car. Oh boychild!

Mr. Kimanzi started the car as soon as Kyalo got in the car. On the way to Mombasa island, Mr. Kimanzi boasted how he had made a large amount of money from a deal at the port. He also turned into a tour guide as he drove. He showed Kyalo different places and told stories about how he got to know each of those places. Kyalo was unamused at the backseat while Kate just giggled and blushed at Mr. Kimanzi's stories.

Uncle Kimanzi took the two to a posh hotel somewhere in south coast. They ate and drank whatever they wanted. "Pesa si shida, shida Ni matumizi" , he told them. Kyalo was new to this life but he wasn't new to his Uncle's behavior. His wife back in Kathiani, Machakos had complained severally that he was ratchet and a serial cheater. What worried Kyalo was how Kate was slowly falling for him. I guess Kenyan ladies and rich older men go hand in hand just like Arsenal and defeats.

At around 10pm, after making merry, Mr. Kimanzi signalled his nephew to meet him in the washrooms. In his drunken stupor, he gave Kyalo KSHs 2000 and told him to go look for a lodging to rest. He promised to meet him in the morning and even asked him to carry his KCSE certificate as he was going to secure an interview for him at the port of Mombasa. He then gave him his car keys and told him to get his suitcase and return the keys. Kyalo obliged.

Kyalo, a bit tipsy himself found a dodgy lodging just near the hotel they were in. He paid at the reception and was shown his room for the night. He didn't even bother to unpack his suitcase. He jumped in bed and slept almost instantly. He was woken up by the sound of Azaan (call to prayer) from a local mosque. He looked around his room only to find all his belongings missing. There was no sign of forced entry as the door was intact. He wondered if he had actually locked his room.
Without a phone and no memory of his Uncle's number offhead how would he call him?

Kyalo hurriedly went to the reception of the lodging to report that his things were stolen. His complaints fell on deaf ears. The receptionist was unbothered just like an M-pesa agent. She simply pointed to a poster on the wall which read, "Lock your room, Management is not responsible for any loss of your personal items." 

The End. 😎