BORN TAO: Remembering the girls who stood us up

Growing up, we knew all we needed to get the beautiful woman was money and more money.

And Fredy, who you got acquainted with in the last story, had mastered the art of wooing women because his father had both.

Fredy’s father Mr Wachira owned a 14-seater Nissan which he used as a matatu and Fredy would double as a tout during the day and college student in the evenings.

EXTRA COINS

With the extra coins he made from the side hustle, he could afford the company of beautiful girls who loved the finer things in life. It was on Furahi day (Friday), and he had promised his three tushugwas a jam session at Club Rumors. The girls, Grace, Virginia and Sandra were thrilled. They planned to show up in the evening for a long night of drinking and dancing. I was also in college and was the one who introduced them to Fredy.

Having recruited him into the Ninjas club back in primary school, our friendship had become even stronger and I enjoyed free rides to college often saving on fare for the much anticipated Furahi Day jam sessions.

But something was about to change.

“Kijana wapi uniform ya makanga?” Constable Kipkirui yelled.

Fredy remained silent.

“Mbona hamjafunga mishipi?” he inquired while looking at us, the passengers.

“ Mzee weka gari kando.”

It was 7.30am along Jogoo road past Mutindwa market, and from the look of things we were technically going to be state guests unless the traffic officer sympathised with us.

Mr Wachira stepped out of the matatu and tried to reason with the officer who was hell-bent on implementing traffic rules and regulations.

The police officer then ordered him to drive to Makadara police station. We had committed three offences:  failure to buckle up, Fredy playing tout without uniform and his father was answerable for lack of a PSV license.

A WORRIED MAN

Fredy was a very worried man as his plans for the evening were on the  brink of total ruin and his golden goose side hustle was facing an eminent apocalypse that would spell doomed for his good days with college tushugwas.

I was a worried man too. I had my end of semester exams at 8.30am and things were not right. I begged the officer to pardon me since I had an exam but he was adamant with a stern response of, “Ndio iwe funzo kwa wengine kama wewe.”

At 8.15am, we were arraigned at the Makadara Law Courts where a stocky, stern-faced magistrate listened to our charge sheet.

We all pleaded guilty.

And I had to part with a fine of Sh1000 while Fredy had to dig deeper for Sh3000 while his father paid Sh7500.

I hurriedly left the court and boarded a boda boda to college. I was one hour late, the invigilator looked at me, shook his head in dismay but allowed me to seat for the paper for another 30 minutes before time was up.

Fredy, who was pursuing Tours and Travel course, did not have to worry about an exam but he was certainly not looking forward to a jam session unless he came up with a solution.

After the exams I rang him severally but he was mteja, but then bumped on him at the campus cafeteria at lunch time. 

“Buda bado uko game leo jioni,” he enquired.

SHOCKED

I did not answer. I looked at him in shock.

Was he in his right mind, I wondered, after paying such a hefty fine, he was still planning on going out later in the evening? I was dumbfounded.

While he was enjoying a sumptuous meal of pilau and fish curry, I was contemplating on surviving on ugali and boiled beans for the next two weeks before I fully recover financially from our current predicament.

“Bro, have you read the book, The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari?” he asked. Then he cut short my answer saying, “Well, I sold my phone too.”  

Since I was his only link with his tushugwas, he ordered chicken curry and white rice for me while urging me to make sure my phone was fully charged.

WORRIED

It was 8.30pm and the tushugwas had still not turned up, we were worried. We tried to ring them and send them text messages several times but their phones had been switched off. Back then it was imperative for a good ‘dunda’ to have plenty of pretty girls.

They stood us up. We went home dejected, especially Fredy who had sacrificed so much. Talk of a bad day, but their day of reckoning was coming.