Like i mentioned in the first part of the topic above (before we were rudely interrupted by Michelle), life has shown me fire and ice in equal proportions.
The place i live in is not the safest in the leafy suburbs of 45 but i have seen a gradual decline in crime ever since the internet, twitter and smart phones became the in thing. My guess is that the crooks in our neighborhood have been googling more sustainable means of committing their crimes.
But again, i might be wrong. They could actually be hatching a plan to raid my place.
My wife calls me a sadist, but that is beside the point.
So i keep peeping out of the window just to make sure my clothes are safe. A knock on the door, 4 loud taps with no urgency. I put on a shirt just in case it’s a woman. I open the door, behold a giant stands there.
It’s Omosh, a good pal of mine, he is a gigantic fellow as i may have guessed from the description above. He is all smiles, wearing a branded t shirt which i presume to have been free. It smelt of demonstration, the kind of smell you cannot exactly explain but a smell all the same.
Omosh says a lot even before i usher him into my dwelling place. The long and short of it was that he was cordially inviting me for a demonstration (i knew it!!) to be held along Kenyatta Avenue to demand something from the Government.
I declined, but he really insisted, and since they had planned lunch for the demonstrators later, i was obliged to attend. Food can be very inspiring! But for the records i agreed coz he insisted.
And so we left, i will tell you about my clothes later. The assembly point was near the place Nakumatt Downtown was. There were lots of demonstrators, men and women alike, all seemingly psyched up for the day’s event.
I was given a t shirt, cap (resembled those sengenge ni Ngo’mbe village editions) and a placard which i didn’t really care what was scribbled on it. I stayed close to the towering figure of Omosh just in case someone queried why i was there.
The police, well, the police were there as they had been alerted of the peaceful demo. We marched on along Kenyatta Avenue on that Saturday afternoon eagerly shouting “haki yetu” and “bado mapambano”. The women (read huge Jok a Jok and Abaluhya women) danced as the men (i was just there for moral support) sang the previously quoted hymns.
I was thinking about a heifer i had asked my uncle to buy for me back home, and the food these guys had prepared for us after the demo.
Now, from now henceforth, things might seem a little fuzzy coz in a matter of seconds all hell broke loose, and i mean all the demons (notice how demon is the first part of demonstration!!) in hell were let loose. There was gnawing and gnashing of teeth as everyone seemed to go or rather scamper everywhere and nowhere.
The journalist in me told me not to run, which was a terrible idea btw. I scanned the entire area to establish what had gone wrong and there it was.
Apparently, students from a famous institution of higher demonstra……sorry, i meant learning, were also having a demonic demonstration of their own. Theirs was nothing but peaceful and we had clashed with them at the GPO roundabout.
Kumbe, the police knew (from a tip off i presume) of this. They were armed and ready for the students but since we had clashed there was no clear distinction between us and them and the tear gas did not choose who to make cry.
My thinking was halted by a serious kick on my butt. I have never felt such excruciating pain before, i almost vomited my duodenum. It was an anti riot cop in all his glory and this are not the chaps you face and ask why they kicked you.
A baton landed on my back right after the kick, and this ignited my turbo engine. I fled like Carl Tundo’s Subaru only that i wasn’t sure where i was heading. I ran head on into a group of other cops and had to do some serious revving to save skin.
Now, let’s stop here abit.
Omosh. My dear pal Omosh. I saw him appear like shwaaa from a mountain of tear gas smoke. He couldn’t even see. In a matter of seconds, 4 cops had floored him to the tarmac thrashing him seriously. I doubted his ribs would ever be the same shape again.
“nyangau wewe…” shouted the cops. I stifled a bout of laughter (remember my wife thinks am a sadist).
“Woooi, wooooi, auuuuuu!” that was Omosh screaming. A screaming man has been known to cause a lot of trauma to anyone within earshot!
Stop there again. Remember the group of cops i ran to back at the corner? Well, they were gaining on me and i had to make a decision whether to save Omosh (ha, as if i could!) or take off.
Flight seemed the better option. Another baton on my back and flight mode was activated. Even in the commotion, my mind was thinking at double the normal rate trying to decide whether to take refuge in Uhuru Park which was closer, or jeevanjee.
Uhuru Park was safer since i could dive in the water for refuge; Jeevanjee was closer to Central Police station and that would have been very suicidal.
I will not tell you how i managed to get myself home that day. The first human being i noticed was Michelle standing at the exact same point she was when i was doing my laundry.
One look at me and the lollipop she was mumunyaing (in this mess i can’t even recall the English name for this!!)had dropped from her mouth.