The alarm rings and I ignore it, thinking I am in a dream. It
becomes louder and louder and of course I get irritated. Before I snooze it and
go back to sleep, I force a glance through my heavy eyelids. “Did I see
something like 0431hrs?” I tried convincing myself but at the back of my mind I
knew I had to wake up to go to marikiti. Marikiti? The thought of the place got
me tired instantaneously. Before I resorted to other options, I quickly made
calls to the marikiti envoy. “Sorry, you do not have enough…”. Excuse me lady did you have to have to tell me
that? I already knew it. Uuuhm clearly I
did not know that. It was just and understandable outburst. Hope you understand
it too. Of course I had many options. I redeemed
my bonga points. Tamana did not receive my calls and I got so determined to go
heckle him out of his room forgetting that of course he was locked in. I was
just left standing at the door begging him out of his bed. He heeded to my
call. Colo thought he was in a dream when I softly banged *really?* his door,
after which I witnessed him cladding his warm attire for the cold we were about
to experience.
We merged with the choir entourage at around 0530 hrs after
we took Eve from Stella just opposite sonu
office to board a matatu. Just then we debated on the chances of various
possibilities of sonu elections
which were just concluded the day before. Some matatus passed without stopping
and people had different speculations on why that is happening headed by Muhoi.”
Hawa hawawezi simama, wanajua tulifanya elections jana na wanadhani tumeanza
kuriot”. That is apparently our image. His
Kiswahili intonation always comes out with a funny attachment. Before we finished reacting to the allusion a
car came and we boarded. 10 bob to Kencom.
We alighted and found our way through the fully streets of
Accra road then though Githurai stage and there we were, besides KPCU building
where it was supposedly our meeting point. The choir envoy was divided
according to what they were to procure but for us, the prolifers, we remained
together thanks to our small number. It was now dawning and we headed for the
fresh farm produce in marikiti. The entrance itself was eye-soaring. It was
analogous to cattle boma back at ‘ocha’ during a rainy season. We wondered how
we would pick our way through. Anyways we were dressed for the occasion so we
soldiered on. We had to keep up with driven mikokotenis and people in haste
through the tiny pathways between the stalls. “ muharakishe ama niwagonge”, “
kwani kuna nini hapo mbele”. We had two
options, either to bear the verbal ammunition or quickly assimilate to the
pace. We tried settling for the latter.
Our first stop was at Mama viazi, or is there a conventional
name for that?. Apparently she stills remembered Tamana a year after they were
in the same place. Damn, I envied her memory. As she was getting a bag for our goodies, a
group of people seemed to be shouting heading towards the market from the gate.
She started narrating how they have been mistreated and that is why they were
trying to champion for their rights.” Hawa watu wametunyanyasa sana, wameongeza
rent. Kwani unadhani hawa magovernor watalipwa na nini?” It was clear it was
all about the county government and its many employees. But I was not sure what
she insinuated at. Was she okay since
the extra money they are paying for goes to the county staff or she did not
want the county government? Or even if she dint approve of the county government
there is nothing they can do but just riot to try reduce the rent a little bit?
That was not my business. We did all the shopping and headed back to the
meeting point.
After everyone returned, Muhoi being in the last group
returned we journeyed back to St Pauls. There was a lot of hustle and bustle and
I wondered why, it being a Saturday morning. I had to carry and extra load
after Tamana disappeared but rejoined us halfway through the journey. We reached
st pauls and Makuu helped us store the goodies. Of course he was happy knowing
that his lunch and supper was sorted.