His mother had said she would be gone for 3 hrs max. She went to her friend mama Tasha’s saloon next to the matatu stage. It was a distance away, but not too far. He and his friends had made it farther in their adventures; not that he would tell her this. But knowing his mother’s udaku habits, she would probably be gone more than half the day, and he was paying for it!
“Kuna mtu anakuja kuniletea nguo. Nimeacha pesa kwa drawer yangu. Umpe 1500. Asikuambie ati its any more than that ju siko. Umesikia. Unaeza tumia soo kununua chips. Lakini no more than that, OK!!!” She had said as she hurried out the door, running late. And so, his Saturday had been quarantined and the foota match he had planned with his boys was over before it started for him.
Chips wasn’t enough! He pouted as he remembered the only perk of the day. He had no idea when the guy would show up and because of this he couldn’t even go out. When the morning cartoons ended, he found little solace in the teen show that came after, especially because it at least had music. Radio really wasn’t his thing, so he sprawled messily on the sofa while he played on the old game consul he’d had forever.
The knock came shortly after 12 oclock when he was thinking of going to the local chips joint for his payment. He nearly jumped out of his skin! Their house was a single 3 bedroom house in the suburbs, but it was in the outskirts of town and tended to get secluded with very few and far between neigbours and a little lonely. People didn’t come to the door by accident in other words… His mind raced for a moment, but then remembered his reason for being here in the first place.
He swung upstairs and was down in a beat with the money before joyfully bounding for the door, crazy happy at the realization that after this he would be free with at least half a day to bangaiz with his buddz. He subconsciously slammed on the breaks when he got to the gate, stranger danger training kicking in.
‘Not so fast!’ He thought. He bent down and lifted the gate flap and peeked through at the visitor.
“Ni nani?” he inquired squinting at him. The man was looking away, at the sound of movement he turned around and realized the voice was coming from the little hole in the gate. He gave a pointed look and then plastered on a smile that looked strangely artificial. Unnerved, Peter found himself wanting this interaction to be over as soon as possible! Before the man could speak he asked:
“We ni mtu wa nguo?” He asked curtly trying to sound serious and a little more grown up because; 12 year old thinking … His voice gave his youth away anyhow. Man paused at that and it seemed as though Peter could see the gears working in his head at that, as if stalling to process. The smile stayed firmly in place as he did this then widened as he said
“Yes!” He seemed pleased. Peter felt he didn’t want to open the gate but he needed to in order to get the clothes. He thought quickly.
“Ziko wapi?” He asked cagily. The man’s smile fell a little but remained in place.
“ Ziko hapa nje kwa gari. Wapi dough kwanza?” He asked. Peter hesitated then put his hand through the hole next to his eye to show he had it then withdrew it quickly when the man moved closer. A small frown, for the first time, formed on his face. He looked irritated. The smile seemed to be hanging on by a thread now. Peter tensed growing more wary.
“Si ufungue ukam kuziona?” he asked his voice taut now.
“Ah, zii. Nioneshe kutoka hapo. Unaeza tupa kutoka juuya gate niziangilie.” He said, suddenly getting an idea. “Nitakupea dough after that.” He said feeling a little triumphant at this realization. At which point, the visitor’s smile fell completely, replaced by the most malevolent glare he had ever seen. Peter’s blood ran cold. He felt his heart falter at it.
“Fungua hii mlango saa hizi!” He demanded, his voice a terrible growl, slamming his hand on the gate. Terrified, Peter jumped back dropping the flap. He ran back to the house tears in his eyes. The man banged on the gate violently, then grabbed the top and shook it. He assaulted the gate, throwing his weight on it. Peter slammed the outer door closed and put on the padlock then locked the front door.
The deafening sounds died down after a while and when he finally calmed down, he called his mother and told her. She almost didn’t believe him, but she confirmed that he was fine, then came rushing home. The police said it was probably a thug and most likely wasn’t working alone.
Apparently there were actually some gangs operating in neighboring estates and it may have been one of them. They cleaned out houses and took everything. Peter got commended for being cautious, but he was traumatized. He was going to need come counseling and frankly, he never wanted to be home alone again…