Its a beautiful sunny day. Days like these had better be well spent. If you let these kind of days pass you by, you might just remember them later with regret. But i'm the smart type, so i know what to do. I'll put on my best clothes, and head to town. That Man United jersey always impresses. Once in town, i'll get down to 'hustling'. Hustling means, getting Muguka on credit from Mwas, and some cigarettes from Kiaba, also on credit. How i'll pay them back, i don't know. A real hustler never wastes time worrying about small, small debts. Besides, mwanaume ni madeni. In fact, once this herb kicks in, i've got solutions for the global warming, The Brexit debacle and The Corona vaccine issue. Its as simple as that. So you worry if you feel like, am not joining you down that road.
Building Castles In The Air.
Am now seated by the road side, my Muguka neatly arranged and things are beginning to change right before my eyes. Its now noon, but i would care less about time, if this feeling is anything to go by. All the issues that were troubling me before, begin to evaporate, as i imbibe more on this wonder-drug from Mbeere. I'm beginning to wonder why i was so worried about this month's house rent, yet i'm now a landlord, with houses in every town of Kenya. Hell, i even have a mansion in Brazil, where they held the Olympics the other day. What i don't understand is why i never made the trip there, so i could watch Bolt bolting and obliterating the field in nine seconds flat. Or so i could house the Kenyan robbers in blue suits, masquerading as the athletics team officials, then knock the NOCK out of them by charging exorbitantly.
A bus from Mombasa is speeding past. I wonder how much they have made today. See, its time i caught my bus's crew in the act. I've always suspected they steal a fortune from me. From my ten buses, plying the Mombasa-Meru route, i wonder how i could only manage 50 million in a whole year!. It has to be more. Time i switched to Choppers, if this keeps going on. Because a chopper doesn't need a road to reach its destination. Besides, i can always build an airstrip in Timau, where i own a hundred acres of land. Not that my choppers will need the airstrip. No. Its the Cessnas am worried about. Two, i've already acquired, three are on the way coming. By the end of the week, the proud owner of five Cessna aircraft. I can literally see the clear Baite Air Travel writing on their tails. Which reminds me...
See this very morning, my wife was going on and on about some cash she needed. I had nothing on me, so i sulked, took my jumper and walked out. But now looking back, i don't understand how i could have been so blind. Because, all i have to do, come tomorrow, is walk into the nearest bank, ask for money, then walk out. Hivo tu. I now believe that all banks will want to lend me some money. Sometimes they'll even forget to get it back. Everybody wants to do business with a high end businessman like me. All i have to do is make up my mind on the amount and voilaa!,its done. But i couldn't have thought of that genius of a solution in the morning, because i had just woken up and was as sober as a judge.(Judges are sober and they still haven't nailed that Asian,three decades since the maverick leech milked the country's coffers dry?). See, it takes one 'bag' to get my mind running, two to move it into full throttle mode. Then, and only then, will everything just fall into place.
What i don't understand is why with each passing day, i seem to be getting poorer. I've built Malibus in Miami, alongside Maina Kageni's. I've bought and sold apartments in high rise skyscrapers in Chicago. I've cleared squatters from my thousand acre ranch in South Africa and sold it to the government, so they could build a soccer stadium. The state of the art Soccer City, to be precise, where Iniesta scored that goal that sunk the then fancied Dutch, and won Spain the world cup in 2010.Whether the rumors doing rounds, that all those stadiums S.A built for the tourney have now turned to white elephants, is none of my business. A real business mogul sells, forgets instantly and takes off the next day. I've banked proceeds from my secret Congo gold-trade in a Swiss Account that the best money laundering sniffers wouldn't sniff if they took all year sniffing. All that as i sat by the roadside, chewing this wonder drug, muguka. So i don't understand why with each passing day, instead of the Gucci shoes am supposed to own, my left shoe keeps looking like my right one. And vice versa. Now even the big toe is threatening to break out and it doesn't seem to be joking. I can't figure out where all the deals i make disappear to, on the onset of dawn. Or why in the morning, all i seem to have is my matchbox, with a stubbed-out cigarette inside. This is puzzling and i better get to the bottom of it, before it gets to the bottom of me.
The Reality Blues.
Its been a while since this habit kicked in. A decade, to be precise. Give or take. I have better things to do, than to keep counting my own mistakes. And rather than listen to all the hot-air being peddled by politicians left, right and center, i imbibe on this stuff and then i can make my own promises, get my own stuff done in record time and with my own kind of precision. They all come trooping back, the politicians, to the village after every five years with more promises to the youth .Frustrated, some of my age mates headed east, to fight their own country, hooded like sore thumps. Some came back, some never did. Those who came back, now roam the shopping centres like zombies, directionless. And the cops take them in for kicks or when bored. And hope, for them, is gone,s ame way the zeal to live did. Though i didn't head East like they did, i did something similar;- i tore my voters card to shreds, mixed it with my herb, then chewed it. That's how i keep getting certified crooks for leaders, having eaten my only remaining weapon.
Time to head back home is nigh. And because i've spent the whole day doing nothing, i'm headed home with nothing. The crushing feeling of reality is gradually creeping in. Its the most fearsome feeling ever. It attacks you from all corners, leaving you feeling empty and worthless in its wake. I hate this feeling, i hate the truth. But its here, and Mwas can't be of any help now. Its time to face myself, time to soak all the lies in. There has to be a better life than this, but i don't know where to find it. And as i lie in bed, counting the iron sheets above and, in my mind, painting them in the process for the millionth time this year, i realize the bitter truth. Its all a sham. Its a hoax, made real by some twigs. Its the adversary's way of keeping you rooted at the exact same spot, year in, year out. Time i ditched the adversary. Time i switched sides. Time i joined the winning side, God's side, if He'll have me.
But for now, i turn to the wall,s wallow hard and shut my blood-shot eyes. Because for me, this, is yet another day gone.
No comments:
Post a Comment