A MOVING STORY

Life is a journey. Journeys are part of life. ‘Journey’ and ‘life’ have appeared in statements together. They’re ‘twinning’. Imagine how animals and prisoners feel like being confined in one space for almost their whole life.

Wednesday, 21 August 2019, 7 PM. I’ve just boarded a bus heading back to my small mansion somewhere in Thika. Using public transport is some kind of mystery, for lack of a better word. You never know what will happen or who will sit next to you. Heck, in some cases you don’t even know whether you’ll reach safely. Anyway as the Swahili saying goes, simba akikosa nyama hula nyasi. Since I don’t own a car, let me just continue using this unavoidable option. Ni life anyway.

I was among the first passengers to board this bus so I decided to match this by sitting in one of the front side seats. Of course I sat next to the window. Man’s gotta let his eyes explore the outside. I took out my new fresh-out-the-box Airpods and fixed them in my ears. You know it’s rare to find a public transport vehicle with music that I like. Playlist on, zooms out of the world.

Passengers continue trickling in. I’m glued to my phone, not chatting but going through my blog website. Someone sits next to me. This person has consumed all the remaining space and the huge body is almost squeezing the skinny me out the window. In my head I was like ah si mtu akinona anunue gari yake kabla ya kutufinya huku na hatalipishwa fare extra. I take a quick glance to see who this space consumer is. Oh my……! Waah! Did some angels sneak out of heaven and quickly took human form to avoid being busted? Next to me was a ‘yellow yellow‘ mama who appeared to be in her mid thirties. Black shiny well maintained hair, smooth flawless skin that could hold me captive because it was nyororo and some scent that tempted me to turn into a sniffer dog. I take back the statement that was in my head. It was the meat from her hips and thighs that was pushing me against the car frame. Nifinye kabisa. In fact songa songa hivi, naona unafungia watu njia juu hujakaa vizuri. Of course I didn’t utter those words. I know I shouldn’t view a thirty-year-old lady in such a way but hey, give credit where it’s due. Plus I’m a man, a young flourishing man, so it is normal to be attracted to a good looking feminine figure.

I pretend to be so busy writing an article like I haven’t even seen her. Fast forward twenty minutes later the bus is full and it roars away. Two paragraphs down, more to go. The only time I took my eyes off my phone was when I was handing my fare to the conductor. I’m so antisocial so I usually drown myself in my phone often. The few times I’ve been phoneless I’ve felt like I was in hell. The Ministry of Education should include socialization classes that will be tested and included in the performance sheet to help anti-social people like me.

“Vijana hizi simu zenu ziliwaroga.” What an ice breaker!

“Ni vile naandika kablog story. Nimepata inspiration saa hii tu.”

“Aah wow! I thought unachat tu. That’s a positive thing you’re doing. Ata mimi niko na blog site yangu. I love writing features. Pardon my manners, I didn’t even introduce myself. My name is Felicia.”

“I’m Mark. Pleasure meeting you.”

She actually got me to talk and we got to know more about each other. We even exchanged contacts! Kijana wa wenyewe ameanza kucheza na wamama. She happens to be the Personal Assistant to one of the prominent figures in the country. I’m already getting to know people and I haven’t even started working in my field, journalism. She also happened to have a house in Thika, where her family was.

Quick break. Remember when I told you you never know what can happen when using public transport? It was some form of accidental foreshadow. I’ve to stop my writing for a moment at this point because the bus I’ve boarded has been involved in a minor accident with a 14 seater matatu. I guess we could call that a PSA. No not public service announcement, public service accident. No injuries recorded though.

Felicia invited me over to have a look at some of the articles she had done. It was 8:30 PM, the night was still young so why not pass by her place for some minutes before going to my place. She was to pick up her car from one of the garages in Thika Town so she could even drop me at my house. Furthermore going to her house translated into free supper. I hate cooking. Apparently by passing by her house I had nothing to lose.

When we got to Thika she phoned her mechanic who brought her car to where we were. A sleek matte black Mercedes C63 AMG approached us and slowly snaked to a stop. Its sound was sweeter than my girlfriend’s. This was the type of car that has necks breaking after it passed. The interior was just exquisite. The leather seats, the infotainment system, the fresh unique scent, everything was just breathtaking. Her taste of cars was as good as mine.

After a ten-minute drive we got to her place. A castle like, three storey, sunset orange palatial home with a gate that stretches to the clouds and an armed guard who had a big dog beside him. The interior is furnished with rare high end furniture that I assume is imported. They look nothing like the local furniture.

“Karibu sana. Feel at home. NANCYYY NJOO!”

“Thank you. You have a very nice house.”

“Thank you. Can’t say much, it’s God’s blessing,” She said with a big beautiful smile on her face.

“Shikamoo ma. Shikamoo kaka.”

“Nancy tuletee chakula na kajuice.”

“Ndio ma.”

Felicia disappeared upstairs. The domestic worker some food that made the worms in my stomach bite harder as they salivated (if worms have saliva). Felicia must have employed a chef to be her kitchen manager.

“Shukran.” My parents taught me to always appreciate when I’m offered something.

Felicia came back with her MacBook in her hand.

“Here. This is my blog and some of the articles I’ve written.”

We had supper as I went through her blog site and as we conversated too. Where are our table manners though? After reading some of her work the MacBook died down due to insufficient power.

“Uuhm charge imeisha.”

“Usijali. Charger iko huko juu. Juu umemaliza chakula twende tukaiweke kwa moto ukionanga pia vile nyumba inakaa.”

Okay, wow. She’s trusting a stranger to that extent? Anyway I might get motivated to work harder and get my own palace. Can someone tell me to check the time?

She ushers me into an all ensuite room. This room is larger than the size of the house I live in! She shows me where the charger is and I plug it into the MacBook. I look at my worn out watch. It’s midnight! What the…!

“It’s midnight! I should get going.”

“At this time of the night it’s not safe to even drive. The house is large. You can sleep in one of the rooms then go in the morning when it’s safe to do so.”

I tried to convince her to drop me off at my place but I finally gave in and agreed to spend the night there. Why would someone allow a stranger into her house and convince the stranger to spend the night? Could I have fallen into the trap of one of the cultic followers who carry out human sacrifice? Or maybe she’s a drug peddler who has found someone to enroll into her ring?

“Endelea tu kusoma articles.”

I jumped back into the article pool to try and push away my fears. I was not even aware of what was happening around me. I did not notice Felicia walking away, changing her clothes and coming back. I come back to my senses when she sits next to me. I look away from the screen to comment and whoa! She is next to me, dressed in nothing but a revealing black night robe that exposed part of her mammary jewels and her smooth thick yellow thighs. You know what happens when men see such.

“Your uhm articles are really good. Maybe you could teach me how to get better at writing.”

“Sure thing. I’ll be glad to do so but not today.”

I don’t know if she noticed any change after I saw her in the robe.

We continued talking, the conversation getting deeper and deeper. The modern saying, shit happens, got meaning. I can’t explain what went on but I had coitus with Felicia, on her marital bed! This was the first time I had gotten to that level with an older woman. Anyway it was bomb sex, best I’ve had so far. As I sleep I am a very satisfied man, though guilty of what we’ve done.

A beam of sunshine punched through the window and into the room. We woke up at almost the same time. After some seduction we had some morning glory. I swear I could do this all day. It was a great sin for us to have sex considering our age difference and her marital status but the sex was sooo good I felt my spirit struggling to remain in my body.

Pleasure on pleasure levelling up. I don’t know for how long we had been having sex when boom! the bedroom door is flung open. We both stop and look in surprise. It was her husband who was supposed to be in New York for a business meeting! Holy shit, I’m dead, finished, kwisha!

“Babe, you’re back! It’s not what it looks like. I can explain.” Felicia tried to convince her statue-still husband who has turned into a ball of fury.

I only had time to put on my grey pants before a guard whisked me away and locked me up in a room at the gate. Using the butt of his pistol, he hit my head and I became unconscious.