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#WATWB – ResqueBnB: Bringing Together Victims and Volunteers Amid Post-Poll Chaos in Kenya

#WATWB – ResqueBnB: Bringing Together Victims and Volunteers Amid Post-Poll Chaos in Kenya

The August 8th presidential elections turned out to be a fierce dynastic contest pitting the incumbent President Uhuru Kenyatta against his rival, formidable opposition leader and former Prime Minister Raila Odinga. The outcome, where the electoral commission declared Uhuru Kenyatta winner, led to pockets of protests across the opposition leader’s strongholds.

Police responded to the protests with deadly force, leading to an unknown number of deaths. Human rights groups put the number of deaths at twenty four while opposition leaders put the figure at over a hundred.

In the wake of this brutality, some families were forced to run away from their homes, citing cases where police broke into people’s houses to brutalize them. Those who ran from their dwellings were essentially stranded given that most did not have secondary residences.

While some chose to sit back and blame the victims for being ‘violent protesters,’ Kenyan developer Tevin Otieno and colleague Miss Nyawira came with ResqueBnB, a collaborative endeavor between social media users and humanitarian volunteers to connect stranded victims with willing hosts who can accommodate them for an unspecified period. The initiative has also overseen collection of cash and food donations. The groups activities are also coordinated via their Twitter handle @ResqueBnB. A more detailed description of the initiative can be found here.

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We Are the World Blogfest” seeks to promote positive news. There are many an oasis of love and light out there, stories that show compassion and the resilience of the human spirit. Sharing these stories increases our awareness of hope in our increasingly dark world.

This month’s co-hots are Simon Falk, Roshan Radhakrishnan, Inderpreet Uppal, Lynn Hallbrooks, Eric Lahti, and Mary J Giese,

For guidlines and how to join, click here

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Posted by on August 28, 2017 in Inspiration, Lifestyle, News, True Stories, Uncategorized

 

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#WATWB: The 100-year old Living Saint

Every end month, members of the ‘We Are The World Blogfest’ post uplifting and inspiring stories from news sites.

For my second #WATWB post, I’ve chosen to once again share the story of grandpa Dobri, which has a special place in my heart and is in fact one of the initial posts I did when I created this blog.

Grandpa Dobri is a 100-year-old beggar who is already celebrated as a saint in Bulgaria; a country ravaged by poverty and corruption. For over 20 years, Dobri Dobrev has been begging on the streets of Sofia, collecting alms worth lots of money. You would expect him to use the money to better his life, but that’s not what he does. The old begger gives all proceeds from his begging to the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, making him the church’s largest private donor. 

Besides donating his collections to the church, Grandpa Dobri also shares food items given to him with other believers. According to a bishop from the church, Dobri gave them $24,900 in 2009 while he continued living a life deprivation. This is a considerably huge amount of money that can change a man’s life given the high poverty level  in Bulgaria; the poorest, if not one of the poorest, members of the EU. The bishop notes that the old man also donates to snaller churches around the area.

His selflessness and generosity hasn’t gone unnoticed despite his meekness and refusal to grant interviews to the media. He is is locally known as “The Living Saint from Baylovo” and graffiti artists painted a mural of him holding a candle on a 10-storey building in a Sofia neighbourhood. 

Grandpa Dobri Mural. Photo courtesy

Dobri is indeed an inspiration that any one can do good to others in society irrespective of financial standing. You can read the story in it’s entirety here.

For guidelines and how to join the #WATWB community click here

For further info, get in touch with this month’s cohosts Simon FalkRoshan RadhakrishnanIndepreet UppalSylvia Stein and Damyanti Biswas.

 
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Posted by on July 30, 2017 in Inspiration, Lifestyle, News, True Stories

 

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#WATWB: Raped and Stabbed on the Wedding Day

While crawling the blogosphere for daily tidbits, I came across a story about a group of writers who came up with the idea of shining some light to the darkness of negativity hogging social media. At the end of every month, members share uplifting stories on “We Are The World” Blogfest. Stories that show all is not lost and that there’s so much positivity in the world; people who go out of their way to make the world a better place or those who’ve been through heartrending ordeals but found the courage to rise up again. 

One such person is Terry Gobanga.

One beautiful day Terry was preparing for what she thought would be a memorable day ahead. Well, memorable it was but not in a way she anticipated. Terry was abducted on the morning of her wedding day, raped, stabbed and left for dead. All this happened while the groom, family and guests were already assembled in a church waiting for her anxiously.

During her hospitalisation, doctors told her she wouldn’t be able to have any children of her own because the stab wound she suffered on her stomach had penetrated her uterus. At this point it seemed the world was collapsing on her. 

Her groom, Harry, stood by her through the ordeal, insisting he still wanted to marry and take care of her. He kept his word and seven months later he walked her down the aisle in a wedding catered for by a rape survivor and her friends.

This is the point at which you’d probably think all is well that ends well. Not so, Terry lost her husband to carbon monoxide poisoning, almost dying along with him, after the jiko (charcoal stove) he had lit to keep them warm filled their bedroom with the toxic fumes.
Despite being a pastor, she felt God had forsaken her. People thought and said she was cursed. She swore she would never get married again. She was depressed.

Nevertheless, a friend of hers never gave up and kept visiting and comforting her. After a while he fell for her and told her he wanted them to be husband and wife. Terry tried to dissuade him in account of her dark past and inability to bear children but he had made up his mind. He married her and they miraculously had children.

Terry wrote a book about the ordeal, Crawling Out of Darkness, and started an organization, Kara Olmurani, that offers rape survivors support and counselling.
Read Terry’s full story here

This month’s We Are The World Blogfest cohosts Lynn HollbrooksSylvia SteinSylvia McGrath and Belinda witzenhausen welcome all to join and share uplifing stories via the #WATWB blogfest.

Click here to become part of the community

 
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Posted by on July 2, 2017 in Lifestyle, News, True Stories

 

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Monday Motivation

Monday Motivation

So today I dove deep into my legacy email account to look for some info and by chance I stumbled upon this great piece my sister had sent. I don’t think she even remembers it but it is a great piece. I hope the words encourage you to live a better life.

ENCOURAGEMENT

Don’t let someone become a priority in your life,
when you are just an option in his/her life……………

Relationships work best when they are balanced,

Never explain yourself to anyone.
Because the person who likes you doesn’t need it,
and the person who dislikes you won’t believe it.

When you keep saying you are busy,
then you are never free.

When you keep saying you have no time,
then you will never have time.

When you keep saying that you will do it tomorrow,
then your tomorrow will never come.

When we wake up in the morning, we have two simple choices.
Go back to sleep and dream, or wake up and chase those dreams.

We make them cry who care for us.
We cry for those who never care for us.
And we care for those who will never cry for us.

This is the truth of life, it’s strange but true.
Once you realize this, it never too late to change.

Don’t make promise when you are in joy.
Don’t reply when you are sad.
Don’t take decisions when you are angry

Think twice….., Act wise.

Time is like a river.
You cannot touch the same water twice,
because the flow that has passed will never pass again.

Enjoy every moment of life….

First I was dying to finish my high school and start college
and then I will be dying to finish college and start working
then I will be dying to marry and have children, and then I will be
dying for my children to grow old enough so I could go back
to work. But then I will be dying to retire. And then I will  die
suddenly and  realize that I forgot to live.

Please don’t let this happen to you, appreciate your current
situation and enjoy each day.

 
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Posted by on June 5, 2017 in Inspiration, Short Stories

 

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​Latest Sheng Words And Their Meanings

Sheng has baffled many outsiders due to its dynamic nature. Every generation comes up with new words and phrases that render those of yesterday irrelevant. If you move out of Eastlands, Nairobi, say for 2 years or so, believe you me when you come back the language will have changed to an extent you’ll have a hard time keeping up with conversations.

Earlier linguistic scholars predicted a premature death for the tongue, but it has defied the test of time. Growing to become the unofficial lingo of Kenyan ghettoes. Scholars have written numerous papers about it, yet, they haven’t been able to state with finality whether it is vernacular, pidgin, creole, standard, classical, or lingua franca. 

Conversions in Facebook pages where cops, going by the monikers Hessy wa Kayole, Hessy wa Dandora etc, have taken the war against crime (precipitated by the likes of Gaza and Mauki crime families) in Eastlando have many bewildered. And that is the basis of sheng, to keep those who don’t understand the language out of the convos in Kayole Crime Free, Dandora Crime Free, Dandora Love People, Eastlando Crime Free, Kayole My Kingdom: Together We Can Make It A Safe Place. Here are latest sheng words you are likely to encounter in the groups and their definitions.
Banka – Crib/House

Bitson – Beating

Chuom – Alley

Gafe – Cigarette

Gendi – Matatu

Gwangi/Stepa/Dingo – Gangster

Hasapa – Here

Kushandwa – Get Shot

Mabanga/Mavedi – Cops

Maunenge/Kinenge – Hunger pangs

Mauru – Bad boy/girl

Maweng – Money

Mbekse – Two

Mble/Mbleina/Fafude – Fool

Mbogi – Group/Crew

Mbulu – T.V.

Mitiech – Hoods

Moshatha – Upcountry

Ndeng’a/Chrome/Itoka – Gun

Ngiavati – Chapati

Ngono – Cart

Ngwai – Tea 

Nyai/Pona – Steal 

Nyuria – Die 

Pinchi – Pick pocket

Pori – Wallet/Pocket

Rada – Understand/be alert

Riba – story

Ridhe – Bullet

Rombosa – Dance

Shandwa – Get shot 

Tenje – Phone

Tonje – Laptop

Tutu – Coward

P.S: Note that sheng differs slightly from hood to hood. Add more that I haven’t included.

 
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Posted by on June 1, 2017 in Lifestyle, Tips & Tricks

 

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10 Apps Every Smartphone Owner Should Install

Mobile phones have become ubiquitous that they are no longer used for just calling and texting. They now literally run our lives, from alarms, planners, fitness, data sheets, entertainment, you name it.

At the center of all this functionality are apps. Think of them like a workman’s tools. I can bet my life that whatever you want done, there’s an app for it. You just need to scour app stores and you’ll be amazed that there are apps to help you eat, sleep, even think.

That said, it won’t be practical to download every app you fancy just for the sake of it. You therefore need to have apps that definitely make your life better. And on that regard, here are ten I think everyone should have. Note that am not listing specific apps but rather their functionality. While it would be nice to sound out specific apps, there is need to recognize that there are different platforms (iOS, Android, Tizen, Simbian, Blackberry, Amazon, Fire OS etc) and some apps are not availble across all the platforms. Besides, there are hundreds, or even thousands, of apps for each function.

Financial Services
Digital revolution has ensured that you manage your finances from the comfort of wherever you are. The case is not better exemplified anywhere else than here in Kenya. M-PESA sparked a mobile money revolution that has seen financial  institutions shift operations from brick and mortar settings to mobile. Evey bank worth their salt has a mobile app through which you can buy airtime, pay for goods and services, withdraw and deposit cash and get statements. If your bank doesn’t have a mobile app then you need to reevaluate your relationship with them. While others argue that they encourage impulsive use, we all got to agree that the convenience is worth it, in most cases.

Social
media

It’s the bane of good and bad. Some blame it for catalysing social evils while others can’t help but marvel at its usefulness. Social media has led to crime while at the same time its been useful in combatting it. It has enthroned leaders and dethroned others (think the Arab uprising). It therefore suffices to say it’s a necessary evil. Apps such as Facebook, Twitter, WhatsApp, Instagram (god, Zuckerberg has taken over our lives) among others, allow us to keep in touch with loved ones and enemies. They are instrumental in reuniting long lost friends and relatives, stalking exe(s), providing important updates, running campaigns and dating. Heck, fundraisers are now run via WhatsApp groups!! Of importance though, is responsible use.

Browser

Everyone goes to the internet like a million times in a day, at a minimum. You therefore cannot afford to not have a decent mobile browser installed. While most smartphones ship with okay stock browsers, they’re just that, okay. You can revamp your browsing experience by downloading a browser that compresses data for faster loading speeds and savings on mobile data costs. A decent browser should also be able to save pages for offline reading, have smooth copy/paste functionality, have tabs and if possible, have a QR reader for those QR codes on product magazines.

Messaging

Of course these are among core apps that come with a phone. However, they have restrictions such as text length and no. of recipients.  Third party messaging apps will allow you to send longer massages, attach media files and documents and in some cases make audio/video calls.

Notes

When I said smartphones run our lives I meant in every aspect, not excluding note taking. You are in a meeting and you need to take down some really useful info. But, you don’t have a pen and a notebook because nobody, except scribes, walks around with those, it’s the 21st century (men will agree mostly because we don’t walk around with purses and gigantic handbags). The note app on your phone will save the day, if your phone has one. While most devices come with a stock notes app, I bet it lacks some core features such as adding reminders, highliting or changing fonts and color.

Dictionary

You’re going through an awesomely worded blog post but then the author throws in some gargantuan words and jargon that throws you off course. At this point, you have to swallow your pride and accept ‘kisungu apana mdomo yetu.’ Or better still, you’re trying to show your crush you’re exposed and learned by throwing some glittery words from the Queen’s tongue. Problem is, you’re just but a common John and the most sophisticated word you can come up with is ‘juxtapose.’ Whatever the case, a dictionary (preferably an offline one) comes in handy.

Bible/Quran

Every one of us, everyone except atheists of course, wants to be close to the creator and walk in His path. Nonetheless we are unable to because of mahangaiko na shughuli za kila siku. So you only get to read the holy scripture in sacred premises, fresh from church/mosque, when you want to verify some damning statements a preacher is blaring on a roadside crusade or when faced with challenges your human ability cannot overcome. Not having a Bible/Quran close by can be an excuse, but not when you have a smartphone and can download it and refer whenever wherever.

EBook

You probably love your reads but find it cumbersome carrying paperback copies around at the expense of being labelled a snob or pretender. Your smartphone comes in handy here as well. Any notable book has a digitized version somewhere in the web. All you have to do is download Kindle or any other e-reader and get to read it at your convenience. E-readers are also handy in the sense that they make bookmarking and note taking much easier. Not to mention giving you the ability to search text.

On the same note, is a PDF an e-book? Let me know in the comments section.

Media player

Most smartphones come with stock media players, both audio and video. Unfortunately, most of them don’t play all media formats, forcing you to look for third party ones. Other than having codecs to play a wide variety of formats, third party media players come with extra features to enhance your entertainment experience. For instance, try MX Player to understand my point.

File manager

This should be obvious but for some reason stock file managers lack basic features like changing default  storage location or even search capability. Third party file managers are packed with extra features such as app management, phone management, media players etc. Unless you get a good file manager such as ES Explorer, you may not understand how much you’re missing out.

 
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Posted by on April 1, 2017 in Lifestyle, Tips & Tricks

 

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A Day as a Casual Laborer

If there are folks who are overworked and underappreciated, it’s got to be manual laborers. Everyone complains of being overworked and underpaid; from teachers to nurses, bank tellers to janitors. Nonetheless, laborers bear the brunt on a more grandiose scale.
Sometime back, a buddy of mine tipped me of an opening in Kisii Bottlers. The management at the Coca-Cola bottler was offering an opportunity for university students to make a coin alongside getting vital skills in a real-life business environment. Being the opportunist I am, I joined the group, along with my close friends Hassan and Mark, who I call Mnyitanga for his Luhya blood ties, physique and appetite to match. He calls me the same because of the jokes we make in Luhya accent.
On day one we had to get around the usual red tape characteristic of third-world corporate setups. At the gate, mean-looking ‘soldiers’ inquired why we were there, did we have an appointment bla bla fishcake. I lied that the HR manager was aware we were coming, if he could just give him a ring to confirm. Isn’t it amazing how mentioning a firm’s senior person’s name open doors for you? Just be sure to be confident about it though. I prayed that the damn guard wouldn’t go ahead and make the call. Hassan’s sharp dressing also made matters easier. Dude was dressed to the nines, must have thought we were reporting for an office job or something.
Hurdle one was cleared and we were led to the reception, where we were received by a middle aged lady who didn’t want to let go of her younger years. Thankfully, she was very kind and ready to assist. I explained we were there to join our colleagues from the university who had been recruited the previous week.
“Oh, the university students. Hold on a sec.” She said picking up a desk phone and punching some numbers.
After a few ‘ahs’ ’ohs’ and ‘oks’, she asked if we had the contact of the student who had been appointed group leader. Another stumbling block because the only student I knew was Milly, my cousin. I told her nay. She contemplated for a while then asked who else we knew. I told her there was a lady in the group called Milly. She was called and once she expressed familiarity we were let off the hook. Next we had to see some supervisor who would then assign us work. The old mzee, obviously working past retirement, told us to join some group that was in a different section.  We promptly headed there and found some familiar and unfamiliar faces. Most of the guys were not happy to see us and made a poor job of trying to hide their true dispositions. They were cleaning a warehouse floor, we looked at each other, grabbed moppers and joined them.
“So how do you guys work here and how are you remunerated?” Hassan asked no one in particular.
“Well, depends on what work is available. For instance we load sodas to trucks. Payment is calculated in accordance with the total number of packs loaded times 85 cents divided by the number of people.” Atuya volunteered.
People are still paid in cents in this century? I wondered.
“You guys will need to be in a reflector jackets though, get some gloves too” Willis, the group leader told us.
“Where do we get those?” I asked him.
“Go to Jane’s office, she’s a clerk in the HR’s office.” He replied.
“I think you should go get them the gear, given you are the leader.” Atuya was proving to be friendlier than the rest of the lot.
Willis agreed grudgingly but never went for them, giving this or that excuse. Atuya later confided to us that the reason for the cold shoulder treatment we were receiving is because we were increasing the group’s number, therefore decreasing the amount of money each individual would make. They tried several tactics to exclude us but we hanged on tight until a supervisor from another section of the plant came and asked for some guys. We happily left the group to form a new one.
In the course of the next few days we were tasked with various menial jobs, like breaking scuffed bottles into cullets, crating (getting new bottles from bales and placing them into crates) among others. Eventually we got used to other members of the casual workforce and life normalized.
One day, while seated under a shade waiting for an assignment, Mrefu, or Mgenge, as we used to refer to him, came over to us, all sweaty and panting.
“Hey guys, seems you don’t have any job today.” He remarked panting.
“Not yet, we are waiting for some trailers to bring some bottles for crating.” Hassan told him.
“Great, there’s a trailer that has just come in with some products and it needs to be offloaded. We are a bit short in manpower, mind lending a hand?”
“Not at all, we came here to work bwana.” Hassan said as he rose up and I followed suit.
We got to Sansora, the section of the plant where plastic bottle soft drinks and bottled water are kept. Indeed the trailer was already parked along the entrance of one of the warehouses and the guys were standing there clueless on how to proceed. They beamed on seeing us, especially Hassan, because he was stronger and bigger. We organized ourselves into a human chain and got ready to start offloading. I looked at Milly and wondered whether she would manage.
“Nini Edu?” She had obviously caught my eye.
“Hakuna, na si hii umaskini itatumaliza?” I joked.
“Wacha tu.” She remarked.
“Are you guys over there ready!?” Mnyitanga asked, to which we responded affirmatively.
Charles, a.k.a ‘ the User’ (the story of how he got the nickname is as hilarious as it can get but I’d have to bribe him to tell it) had already peeled the tarpaulin from the trailer’s body. The amount of packs in the trailer was daunting. 2-liter packs were the most. I swallowed hard and told myself ‘mwanaume ni effort.’ Within no time User had thrown the first pack to Mnyitanga. The ease with which he did it only encouraged me; you see, User was the slender, bony type. Mark threw the pack to the next in line and in no time it was sent flying my way. I hadn’t anticipated how heavy it would be and the weight nearly knocked me off balance. Not that am weak but this is a six-pack of 2-liter bottles of Coca-Cola we are talking about. I heaved it and threw it over to the next guy in line who nearly dropped it; protesting that I hadn’t thrown it properly.
“Mnyitanga, hii kitu unashikeko hifi, alafu unarusheko namna hifi.” Mnyitanga demonstrated as he sent the pack flying with deceiving ease.  Soon I got the ropes of the game and we continued without incident. People started getting tired after a while of catching and sending the packs flying.
“Stop throwing that pack like a woman bwana!” Hassan growled, going after a pack that had slipped from his grasp while dodging another that almost bashed his skull.
“Hey, hey! Stop right there! Don’t’ ruin the product or you will pay for it.” The old man supervising us shouted from his high stool.
Rawson took advantage of the momentary lapse, dodged behind a pallet full of Fanta Orange crates. Psssst! Went the sound of escaping gas and in about 10 seconds he tossed an empty 500ml bottle back into a crate and was back in line, wiping his mouth and looking around innocently.
“Leteni maji bwana!” He shouted, obviously replenished. I waited for an opportunity to quench my thirst as well but none forth came. The hawk-eyed old man was now observing us more keenly, perhaps suspecting some truancy.
I looked over at the trailer to see if we had made any progress; we were not even a quarter way and my chest was already burning. I cursed and got back into line. We continued working like an old machine that needed service; occasional drops here, a click or curse there. Someone farted and sent us all laughing derisively. Some packs were dropped, someone shrieked in pain after being hit with an oncoming missile. Paying attention in this setup was mandatory. I took advantage of the momentary lapse and tried to look around for water; I found none. What an irony, I wondered as I licked my dry lips. My stomach growled from the sight of thousands of stacks of bottled water.
“Wewe, ebu rudini line, nobody wants to sleep here.” Willis remarked.
It was now 3pm, 1hour 30 minutes since we started offloading the trailer, and we were only approaching the half mark. I sighed and got back in line. Another episode of rocking back and forth, catching and throwing and panting like tired asses. Douglas, the guy before me, sent a pack the wrong way and it painfully hit my chest.
“Dougy bana!” I growled at him, red-eyed and spitting venom. He mumbled a barely audible ‘sorry’ as he wiped sweat from his brow. Milly was tired beyond redemption and had switched positions. She was now arranging the packs, another demanding task but which she managed nonetheless. It got to a point where I could no longer work with Douglas, so positions were switched and someone else assumed his place.
Guys were now so tired that everyone had gone silent. With a quarter of the load to go, my chest was burning. My saliva was thick and tasted of blood and I would get occasional cramps in my stomach. My biceps were sore and my legs were threatening not to support my weight any more. User kept going like he had just started, I wondered where he got the strength. Willis now had a blank, haunted stare. Mnyitanga got so tired that he dropped off the line, sat on a crate and hang his head resignedly. Milly was nowhere to be seen. Hassan was all drenched in sweat but kept going, am sure he felt like giving up but couldn’t because it would be embarrassing given his size and apparent strength. I wanted to drop off too but hanged on stubbornly, against my tired bones’ will. I wanted to prove wrong those who thought I was too weak for the job.
“Bichana chikaseni bwana, mko karibu kumarisa.” The old man encouraged.
We toiled along. I was now working on auto-pilot; arms swinging back and forth mechanically. We were now offloading half-liter packs of Dasani but the fatigue made them heavy nonetheless. I silently thanked User for starting with the 2 liters because I would have bowed out were they still in line to be offloaded. The last pack was thrown and placed in the stack meticulously. Everyone picked their belongings and made for the exit. It was now 5pm.
“An invoice has just come in, there is a truck to be loaded. Will you guys manage? The supervisor asked.
I looked at him with murderous eyes, luckily the question wasn’t directed at me.
“Sure, give us five minutes to catch a breath.” User replied.
I dragged my feet to a nearby tap, put my skull under the jet of cold water and got myself properly drenched. Hassan caught up with me.
“We were looking for work, we have now found it.” He joked.
I smiled at him sickly, too weak to even laugh.
“Are you going to load that truck?” I asked him.
“Sure, I’ll just pick my bag and head back” He said sarcastically.
We made our way towards the gate but the old man spotted us.
“Hey, you two. Where are you headed? Get back here, it’s not yet time.” He commanded
“The HR manager wants to see us, we’ll be back in a moment.” I told him with a straight face.
I winked at a guard whom we had befriended earlier and he corroborated the story. The old man told us to get back quick and we headed down to the main section of the plant. We wanted to leave immediately but could not sign out because it was about an hour too early. We made our way to the main production factory which also doubled as a warehouse. We dodged the CCTV cameras and made our way to a secluded spot among stacks of pallets loaded with crates of empty bottles. Hassan pulled two bottles of soda from a dark recess where we had hidden them earlier. I cleared the contents in my bottle in an instant and lied back to regain some energy. Hassan was barely halfway with his.
“Stop drinking that soda as if you are in a kiosk, we may get caught.” I told Hassan. He laughed uncontrollably then tried to gulp quickly; almost getting choked. You see, it was illegal to take soda within the factory premises. If you thirsted for some you had to go to the discounted canteen. Willis tried to call us later on but we lied that we had been assigned some task. There was no way I was going to do any more work that day.
I calculated the amount each of us had made offloading those 4,000 packs from the trailer (we were ten). Going by Atuya’s information, each would pocket about 340 shillings. 340 from all that back-breaking work. I sighed in exasperation. We lay in that hiding spot until it was six. Getting up to leave was a mountainous task. All muscles were now sore and any movement hurt like hell. We laboriously headed for the gate, picked our ID cards, signed out and trudged off the plant premises. We barely spoke on the way, just occasional observations and one-word replies or grunts. We got to the junction on the main road and said our byes. Hassan boarded a matatu and I took a boda boda as I lived nearby. Once in my crib, I only took my jacket off and sank into bed, socks and shoes still on. This is one of the moments I wished I could employ the services of a masseuse. I cursed my forefathers.
I will live to fight another day, I encouraged myself and drifted off to sleep. Supper will be taken care of at whatever hour I wake.
   

    

 
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Posted by on November 29, 2016 in Humor, Lifestyle, Short Stories, True Stories

 

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