THE DUNDERHEADS DOWN HERE IN MY VILLAGE

By Maalim Salat

I still wonder why you want to know about what is happening here in our village. Let me tell you the truth, it is now boring to stay here. I am waiting for the next vehicle, which I hear is due to pass here in two weeks’ time that will take me to Garissa or even Nairobi. By the way, our village has seen so much development taking place since we voted in a man called Aden Dualle as our MP.

These days, a vehicle passes here at least once in two weeks. Tumeendelea sana. When I was a fresher at Moi Yolofasity, that is some three academic years plus an everlasting holiday ago, we used to see a vehicle once and the next time we see it, was a time when we already forgot the name of the vehicle. That is why I used to report late to the university. The only thing that used to help me get a room was my last name which has a capital T at the end.

All I needed to do in order to get a room was to wear a large jacket with a cap and produce my ID which shows that I have a name which ends with a capital T. That way, I was more advantaged than akina Omena products and followers of Mungiki and Al-Shabab religions. The reason why I used to wear a cap was to disguise myself. You see, I have a name that has a combination of Al-Qaeda, an Omena product from the lakeside (or a night runner for that matter) and a marathoner. Nobody believes me when they see my face and the name written on my ID.

By the way, I am sorry for taking you out of topic. I was telling you about the village and the developments taking place there. The day before yesterday, I heard that the minister of KCC, bw. Mutuwa Kalonzo died (as part of the Duale developments, these days we get newspapers after three or four weeks. Before Duale, we never got them at all). In my village, he is called Kalonzo and not Kilonzo. He is a very famous person here and I am very sure a bull will soon be slaughtered to celebrate his life. The elders here say that he was the reason why many of our young men are joining Al-Shabab. Yes, he created jobs, they say, by failing them in an exam called KCC.

After we heard of the minister’s death on Monday, one of the elder’s called me (because I am the only kijana ya yolofaisty in our village) and asked me about the meaning of KCC. The mzee was like, “Aabow, mimi nauliza wewe kitu moja. Wewe elewesha mimi hii kitu musuri sana. mimi nasikia ile nyumba ya Uhuru ambaye iko Neyrobi anaitwa KCC, ile maziwa ya watu ya Garissa anaitwa KCC, Uhuru na Ruto wanaenda bahali anaitwa KCC, mutu akibelekwa mahakama anabatiwa kitu anaitwa KCC, hii vijana yetu ya shule wanafanya mtihani anaitwa KCC na wanaanguka kila maka, na saa hii nasikia waziri ya KCC anakufa. Mimi najua wewe kijana ya yolofasity amesoma kitabu mingi, ambia mimi maana ya KCC?

By the time he finished asking me that question, he had spit on my face more times than the number of suits Mwamburi bought while he was the chairman of My University Shop Owners (MUSO). I wiped my face with a handkerchief as I tried to recall what KCC was and how it was related to our village. That is when I got to know the reason why my village girlfriend behaves the way she behaves. Si munajua kuweka bahali moja? Yes, you are right. You see, it is difficult to cope up with the village female species if you are a trainee of Hostel J and a product of Hostel H at the same time.

I happen to be a product of Hostel H and that is why I am able to survive in dark manyattas here. Our village does not get enough water, just the same as that floor in Hostel H where I used to leave before Dhogana became the president. My village girlfriend also smells like the third floor corridors of Hostel H. The other day I threatened to dump her if she continues smelling like that. I was once dumped by a Hostel J resident, so I know what it means.