SUWIMO

By Mugo D Mugo

Many years ago, in a village on the banks of the mighty Nzoia River, a boy was born. This is the village of my mother. The boy’s parents aptly named him Suwimo. Due to Suwimo’s mother prowess in preparing the local delicacy obusuma na ingokho, Suwimo grew up a strong boy and he was loved by all.

All along the mighty Nzoia River, young boys would spend the better part of the day honing their swimming skills, naked as expected. Suwimo was not left behind. Soon Suwimo established himself as an indefatigable swimmer, much to the awe of his fellow kids.

When the cool waters of the Nzoia River became too small for him to charter, he was forced to delve into academic waters. Armed with a pen and his books, Suwimo yet again proved to be an excellent academic swimmer, to the admiration of his peers and entire village. All the while, Suwimo was perfecting his swimming skills, in all spheres, literally.

Soon, the academic waters became too small, and due to his previous impeccable performance, the academic waters of University of Nairobi’s School of Medicine beckoned him. He was destined for bigger things.

Suwimo, at that point a young man, landed in the city in the sun and turned his focus to swimming through the medical field.
Six years later, Suwimo graduated with a degree in medicine and the government promptly sent Suwimo to Malindi, to put to use his medical knowledge.

Malindi, a world class tourist destination welcomed the daktari into its warm salty waters. Being young and educated, the flamboyant doctor dove in head first into the waters of Malindi. They say “You can remove a man from the village but you cannot remove the village from him.” Suwimo’s childhood never taught him to wear a swimming costume.

The waters at Malindi are rich in marine life, some good, some terrible. One day, during his swimming escapades, Suwimo was bitten by a small sea creature. At first the wound was small and he didn’t think much of it. As a doctor, he treated the wound. Days turned into months and Suwimo's wound kept popping its head.

He finally sought the counsel of his fellow medics and after several check-ups; their answer was disheartening to Suwimo. He couldn’t fathom all this. He then packed his bags and hopped into the next flight back to the big city where things were no different.

Suwimo, now a shadow of his former self, took his rattling bones to his village. His people brought in the services of the famed witch doctor, 'Takitari Kalumanzira'. A few black hens and other weird paraphernalia were offered to the “gods of medicine.” but Suwimo’s condition never improved.

Two weeks later, the great “swimmer par excellence.” was laid to rest by the entire village. Surprisingly, nobody in the village knew what had killed Suwimo. His death is still discussed in hushed tones.

Suwimo swam in the best waters the world could offer, but he never really invested in a swimming costume.

Comrades, be safe. "Weka condom mpangoni". Or wait till you marry.