THE "MONSTERS" AMONG US

By Dun Kimaru

Just the other day I came back from the exam room only to realize that my laptop was gone. It was a lot to take in after a challenging paper. That was just heartless. I bet if the devil had a physical body he would be this person. The fact that the person had very good knowledge of my whereabouts and the room’s hiding places just goes to prove that he was no amateur. The intelligence gathering of this cartel is one to be envied by our security personnel. And just a heads up, having an antigen does not ensure safety any more.

This being my second laptop to go in as many years, I guess I also deserve some credit. I can comfortably win the ‘most careless student’ award as I am one of the single highest contributors of ‘ponyoka na laptop’ promotion. And since no solution is forthcoming, even with the arrest and confessions of some culprits, I have decided to come up with my own. This is after the humble realization that we are powerless and helpless at the hands of these devils. They are literally the masters and we are just their slaves. Therefore the best course of action is to negotiate with the terrorists (we are no damn US).

With the above resume, I believe I deserve a seat on the virtual negotiating table. So here is the deal ‘masters’: We acknowledge your prowess and our helplessness. But it beats logic that you take expensive gadgets and sell them at throwaway prices in town after our precious data is formatted. It is a lose-lose situation for both of us.

Here is our offer, we will be accepting our laptops back at a slightly higher price than ‘our competitors’ and please don’t format them. In exchange, we will offer you anonymity and just treat it as a business venture (no hard feelings!) In short, just treat them as hostages and demand reasonable ransom. We are not bad people, we will pay and even thank you. We will be waiting by our phones since it isn’t hard for you to get our numbers.

However, as the negotiations go on I have bought myself a five litre jerrycan of petrol and a match box. I have suspended all cooking activities in my room just to be safe. The next time I hear the word ‘mwizi’ there will be plenty of ‘nyamchom.’ The sweet aroma of burning human flesh and cries of agony are the only things that can appease my ailing soul. After all it is my money’s worth of body fats and oils I will be burning.

In the meantime, naomba serikali iingilie kati. Your excellence, about the laptop you promised my future son, there have been some developments and I kindly need it now. Rest assured that he won’t mind my doing so. And by the way where the hell is Wezesha? Since I cannot afford a third laptop I have resorted to reading books like, “How to be a Millionaire in Thirty Days” and “An Idiot’s Guide to Money Making”. Call it desperation if you like.

When I finished writing this article on some foolscaps, I turned to my roommate and said the words I have come to loathe. Words that I last said a year ago; words that no one with two HP receipts should ever have to say. “Nisaidie na laptop.”