A month prior to this house warming, we had been hosted by another friend at the foot of Ngong hills in his humble abode for a similar event.
This set a precedent for what was to be a series of house warmings moving forward to give us multiple opportunities to party and do crazy stuff that guys our age then loved to do. A Whatsapp group that had been set to organize the Ngong event changed name and was given the ‘King’ero guy’s name housewarming’ (Nkome bamung’o), this was to be the routine for subsequent house warmings. Due to the standards that the previous party had set, everyone on the Whatsapp group confirmed their attendance of the King’ero one. In fact, many tagged their friends along and thus the number grew bigger. Being a Saturday, guys had their carburetor wide open to take as much booze as they could since on Sunday they could spare some hours to nurse the hang-downs. At about 2pm my friend came, picked us up and off we went.
We were among the first bunch to arrive at our
friends place. We met him in the company of another friend who also lives in
the neighborhood and immediately we got incorporated in the ‘special committee’
of fetching booze. We drove to Westgate mall to pick the paraphernalia. Before we
got there the 5 of us were already high. Apparently, this guy had some whisky coupled
with some other hard stuff in the car that we took. We purchased liquor and by the
time we got back, it was almost 7pm, guys were extremely bored,
jeshi ya whisky ilikua imewaangusha. We hurriedly lit up the grill,
started chomaing meat and the party kicked off. Guys literally ate raw meat.
You may have realized I ain’t
mentioning names. Reason? Most of us are now husbands/wives, fathers/mothers,
teetotalers like myself, pastors maybe! And mentioning their names without
their consent might land me in big trouble. I got no money to hire an attorney
to represent me against a crowd of 20 or more individuals. Niokotwe Marurui!!!
The
party continued till wee hours of the night. The dancers danced, the drinkers
drunk, the smokers smoked, the eaters ate, the katiaras katianad, the vomiters
vomited and so on and so forth. Sleeping time came and ladies retired to
the bedroom, others on the couch. Dudes slept on the floor, some horizontal,
others vertical. Let’s just say everybody slept where they fell, Helter-skelter.
I slept in my friends’ car in the parking lot.
You
better adjust your seat coz this here is the juiciest part of the story-the morning after. I was woken up by
noise from the boys making their way past the car I was asleep in walking
towards the gate. I joined them oblivious of where they were headed to. I was
on the white spongy house slippers (Sijui zinaitangwa aje mimi). I followed my
mbogi and when I asked where they were headed to, I was told the neighbor to
the host (Remember the one I told you we
met when we arrived the previous day? That one!) was taking them for a morning walk to a waterfall that was in his landlords’ expanse land before the ladies
could fix breakfast for us.
We
got into a small shopping-center across the road. As a rule of the thump for
guys who had spent the better part of the night imbibing some cheap stuff, the
first thing we saw in between buildings was a bar. “Tutoeni lock” someone in
the gang suggested. We called a quick meeting by the roadside, and in unison we agreed
to raise some cash, purchased some two 750ml Vat 69 and continued with our
journey.
We
descended downhill through a dusty path to this beautiful sight to behold. The
waterfall was magnificent, a beautiful scenery. We settled besides a stagnant
pool in which the waterfall poured and started drinking as we took photos for
remembrance. In the group were 3 ladies and 12 dudes. Gafla bin vuu, the dude
who had taken us for site seeing stripped to his boxers and immersed himself
into the pool for a swim. He almost drowned btw. Alijitosa majini akiwa maji.
An
hour and half later, alcohol had started taking a toll on most of the guys and
we lazily lay on the grass. At some point there was a ruckus between two guys.
I really can’t remember who it was I only remember them exchanging some
unprintable words and guys cheering on. By this time I guess nilikua nimeanza kuona mene mene tekeli na
peresi. Of the 3 ladies in our company, one was not taking booze, I don’t
remember seeing her take anything the previous night either. She was
uncomfortable and really insisted leaving, we excused her and she made
her way up hill. Before she could even disappear from our sight, we saw four
men accost her and instructed her to turn back. She obliged.
Two
had AK47 rifles and the other two had pistols. One cocked the gun and directed it
towards our direction and ordered us to keep seated and raise up our hands.
They identified themselves as policemen and warned that any stupid move would
leave us all dead. Walevi ni akina nani!
(Remember we are in the bush in the
middle of nowhere next to a stagnant pool) We all removed our phones, started filming and
yelling we knew our rights and that we were in a private property but all this fell
into deaf ears. They ordered us to pour our drinks in an empty water bottle and carry it as evidence (We destroyed the evidence once we boarded the mariamu-Tulikunywa evidence yote). The dude who had taken us there (the swimmer) was the most
vocal plus another heavy built jamaa (He
was new, had not met him before) were handcuffed together. I don’t know
whether it was intentional or confusion that the policeman handcuffed them
right hand against the others right hand and walking up the hill was literally
an uphill task.
In
our midst was a KDF guy. When we were all summoned to sit down he never did, he
kept standing, pulled one policeman aside and identified himself. When we were
being escorted uphill, our KDF friend was behind with that one policeman trying
to convince him that we were all good guys. We were very confident he would
secure our release. Those who had contacts to call, did. We finally made it to
where the mariamu had been parked and
we were ordered to get in. Our KDF friend sat in front with the driver to
continue with the negotiation. The other policemen sat at the back with us. I
remember the swimmer threatening the
four and telling them by the following day he would initiate their
transfers to north-eastern region, “Wewe
kesho utakua Mandera, wewe Wajir, wewe Moyale na huyo mwingine Garissa.” He
threatened.
We arrived at King’ero police station and first to get out was our KDF friend. The OCS was standing at the entrance of the block. Guys started screaming as the land cruiser reversed towards the door. The KDF friend approached the OCS and whispered something. We heard the OCS shout, “Kijana toka hapa mbio ama nikuitie military police” That is the last time we ever saw him in that compound. Man down! We were now 3 ladies and 11 guys (King’ero 14).
Our
screaming attracted the attention of the entire police station. The police came
towards our direction breathing fire. One dude and a lady received slaps that
almost sent them to the ground. I am pretty sure they haven’t forgotten how it
felt to date. Seeing this, the rest of us literally ran into the cell. Guys
continued making several calls to relatives and every other person they thought
would influence our release as we continued recording our valuables. A few sneaked
in with their phones.
A
few minutes later, two of the ladies, the ones we had left in the house came to
see us. Brave ones, those. Since I had not yet recorded my belongings, I gave
them out to one of them. They bought us lots of mandazi, argued with the OCS
that we are good guys and that we were harmless (Bless your soul good people, mlitusaidia sana, kwanza the Advocate). The
OCS softened but again said he wouldn’t release us until we sobered up. Left
with no option, we got locked up and most of the guys slept on a cold dirty
floor and even snored comfortably. The rest of us continued with storytelling,
making calls, taking photos inside the cell, inscribing on the walls, ‘so and so was here!’ Oh! And there were
other three dudes in the cell before we got in, one had long dreadlocks and his
right hand was handcuffed against a round metallic knob on the floor, he must
have committed a heinous crime that one.
One
of our friend whose dad had retired at a very senior rank in the police service
a few years before, had been trying to reach him since we got apprehended but couldn’t
get through. His dad finally called back at around 1pm and notified him that he
had been in church. This call was the last straw that broke the camels’ back.
We all knew this call would automatically get us out. Our friend narrated to
his dad the whole escapade. I tell you this respectable mzee made calls.
Vigilance house was called, Jogoo house B was called and maybe several other places that were necessary at the time. He called his son back asking for our names which
he did immediately.
The
OCS came to the cell moments later calm and composed. He told us that due to
the many calls that had been made from vigilance house, he was afraid he couldn’t
release us before his senior who had also been called came. Our matter was now
above his pay grade. He requested us to stay calm and wait for the OCPD to come
but assured us that we would be released.
The
OCPD arrived some two hours later smartly dressed in designer suit, got into
the cell in the company of the OCS and two other uniformed police men. He
introduced himself, told us he is a man of God and that he fellowships at the Ministry
of Repentance and Holiness Church (Prophet David Owuors' church). He confessed that he had never left church
before the service is over but on that day he did. Reason? He received many
calls from his seniors regarding our issue and so he had to come to handle our
case and get to know who we really are that we are of concern to his seniors. He even
joked that he had received calls from everyone and he feared the president
would be the next on line. Zinaitwa
connections! He preached to us about drinking, read bible verses to
us, sought to know what each of us did for a living etc.
BTW
the reason of our arrest we were told, was that when neighbours saw us in the
waterfall and one of us swimming, they thought it was mungiki administering
oath. That area was mungiki prone and so they reported us to the police leading
to our arrest. Besides, we had congregated without a letter from the authorities
and drinking in public.
The
preaching went on for another like two hours, we got our freedom some minutes
past 5pm. No one gave out a dime. Viva! The OCPD invited us to his car after
we left the cell, gave us his job card and Prophet Owuor VCDs with his
preaching and urged us to go watch, stop drinking and seek salvation. Amen?
We
went back to our friends’ home, met the ladies plus of course the KDF guy, ate late lunch/super and left for our homes. This was my first day in cell, but definitely not
the last. It was my first day in King’ero and tentatively my last. This was the
last housewarming we ever held. Uraibu ulikatizwa.
“Looking
forward to when we shall all meet again in thunder, lightning or rain”
