Prologue: There is a fellow by the name Steve Mbogo who has been headlining discussion on the lines for a while. An only son who lived with his brother, Mbogo is reportedly worth Ksh 13b in wealth. He, like Warren Buffet, has invested in many ideas. In many ways, the KUSO chairperson reminds me of me, long ago.

CHAPTER ONE

In the year of Our Lord 1998, the country began taking a different turn. The Private sector began growing in earnest, as the imminent loss of government control on business became realer and realer and people began strategically placing themselves to benefit. You probably don’t understand what I am talking about; neither do I. Tuache hiyo story.

CHAPTER TWO

December 2001. Christmas is fast approaching. Consequently, business is good in both wholesale and retail outlets. Flour and cooking fat is selling like hotcakes. Tailors’ zigwembes are sore because of the intensity at which they are making their Singer machines sew in a bid to complete the numerous orders for shake-shake suits. Kwanza Kito had his measurements taken together with his father’s, and since there was a high possibility of the material having a remainder, his little brother Eneli, Embu for Henry, also had his measurements taken. Wambitú quick tailors is a beehive I tell you. Do not be fooled by the name ‘Quick Tailors’ though.

Then there is the business of balloons. This is where I am making a kill. You probably know it was almost to eat the big balloons, no? The only harder thing is to have Nyaga the cobbler repair your shoe on the day you bring it to his shop. Anyway, the son to the owner of the largest market shop is dating my cousin. Whether or not it can be defined as dating is a whole story on its own. Anyway, I consequently have access to the inside of the shop, and I’ve taken it upon myself to make a copy the chart that has numbers then carefully glued it back.

Before I continue, let me say there is no way you can win balloon number 98 or number 36. Even if you were lucky enough to win Sportpesa jackpot then dedicate all that money to playing for balloons, 36 and 98 are not coming down. Why? Those numbers are not on the chart!

Anyway, at a small fee, a shilling to be particular, I give advice tips on which stickers to pick from the chart. Or I play for you.  Honestly, I too am not giving honest tips, but if you purchase my services, you can rest assured you won’t land those minion balloons that you blow into until your jaws start paining and your ears feel tiiiii…or iyoooo!

Meanwhile, I am thinking of how I can pilfer number 98. Problem is it is too, well…..conspicuous.

CHAPTER THREE

You know in our village we live Ujamaa, no? Of course you do, I just said it. Ujamaa is that thing Nyerere brought to Tanzania where people live like majamaa, relatives. People wander freely into each other’s homesteads at will and no questions are asked. You could be sitting in your compound then suddenly a million people cut right through the middle and disappear without a word. Well, not a million, but you can imagine when the local football team is playing across the ridge, and they happen to pass by your compound together with their loyal fans. And if the team is playing, you know its Sunday, another batch of Church goers who had a jumbo sale will come right after them.

And well, they don’t exactly pass without a word, because every single one of them has to mouth a “Mwí-ega” or “Mwí-andú-aro” And you, seated in the compound, are supposed to respond to every greeting. Pay close attention though, because some, especially the cheeky football fans, frame their greeting as “Mwí-andú-ago?”which translates to “Are you witches/wizards?” instead of the conventional “You good?”

Now, there is a time came when even Ujamaa was put aside. Once you reached the age of getting erections and faced the knife- also known as taking your hat off- you automatically lose your Ujamaa rights. You do not just wander into a compound that has girls and pretend that you were just passing by, no.

Steve Mbogo will tell you that business opportunities lie in crisis. And this is my chance. You see, akina Karígírí are having extraordinary erections this holiday, but, having lost their ujamaa right, they cannot wander into kina Wanja’s compound just like that. It goes without saying that Kina Wanja cannot hang around by the roadside, no?

Again, at a fee, I play messenger between Karigiri & co and the females. For maximum reaps, I make sure there are at least three trips. One, I come back with the message “She is (insert random household chore” or “Her father is around.” Trip two, I come back with, “She is not home” Then I actually call her on trip three.

I am making a killing this December. One big problem though, two actually. Kina Karígírí want to change terms to only pay for ‘successful deals’ while, like every other business around here, competitors are flocking the market; business is quickly diminishing.

Anyway, whatever will be will be, a new venture always comes up. Just pray for a crisis. In the meantime, Steve Mbogo, just know there is nothing new under the sun. Been there, done that.

#iRestMyPen

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