My newly earned position of DC of Happy Valley comes with great expectations from our people. As a DC, everyone expects that I have crossed over from the poverty stricken hustlers’ side to the money ridden dynasties financial panorama. Although I cannot go saying it, I only dug a financial hole to buy my new secondhand Passat to buy myself some peace at the palace.
Now, when the people gave me the power to behave and do all that appertains to being a DC, their good intentioned act was based on the wrong assumption that driving a Passat was a mark of riches. And one can actually forgive and understand their ignorance, if one considers two very expectant points. One is that a Passat is the most modern and unique model of a car this side of Mt. Kenya. Secondly, the Passat is the designated car that the minister for finance rides in during the annual ritual of reading the national budget.
You see, when people believe in you, it would be bad social and financial manners to let them down. And because the title did not come with a financial package, I have to look for ways and means of maintaining the social-economic standards expected of the DC that I am. I therefore could not sell my first love, the Volkswagen Beetle. As they say, the pumpkin in the old homestead should not be uprooted. The old thing will come in handy in financing the financial expectations while the Passat sustains the social aspect. That is how Omosh got a permanent job with me as a full-time driver of the Concorde.
Now, Omosh is not a total stranger to you. You know that, like Makena has done to Queen, Omosh has made himself almost indispensable from me. In spite of the many crimes he has committed against me, including trying to destroy my marriage by spreading malicious rumours to Queen, I always find myself going back to him.
For many years, he has been telling everyone who is idle enough to listen that he owned Concorde.
“Huyu mzee ni mtu wangu wa mkono. Hii gari ni yangu. Vile anajulikana na watu wengi hapa namlipakunitafutia customers (This man (me) is my employee. This car is mine. He is well known here but I pay his to look for customers),” he always said.
And because Concorde was in constant need of a mechanic, Omosh became a necessary evil to me, making his lies sell to a huge population of the idlers. Otherwise, anyone with an above average intelligent quotient would have seen through the cheap lies.
You can therefore imagine the believability level of his lies now that he is in the Concorde full-time. Just like other mechanics I know – it is obvious that God created all of them from the same clay – Omosh is abundantly blessed with a very fertile imagination. His latest version, which he broadcasted at Green Valley is, “Watu wa mlima ni wezi kabisa. Nilimuajiri Mr. Survivor kwa gari yangu, aliniiba mpakaakanunua yake! (The people of the mountain are thieves. I hired Mr Survivor to drive my car and he stole from me, and now he has bought his own car).”
As you can expect, Mathee, the proprietress of Green Valley, got a golden opportunity of inviting me to Green Valley. You see, since my promotion to DC, I have restricted my visitations to Mumbi House in accordance with my new title status. You will obviously remember that Mathee and Mrembo have been silently fighting for my patronage. Having me at her place was obviously one big plus.
“Huyu mtu anachoma jina lako baya sana. Anasema lile gali lako mzee ni lake na eti uliiba mpaka ukanunua lako,” Mathee told me. Concorde has its pick-up bay at Green Valley while my new Passat has it at Happy Valley. Business logics dictate that the class of the car matches with the class of the bar and consequently the class of the customers. “Just ignore that fella. Some people are blessed with a bigger mouth that does not match their brains. Luckily, and unlike many idle people, you know the truth,” I told her.
That same evening, Omosh found me at Green Valley. “Boss, wewe sasa umebarikiwa, nunua kitu,” he said.
“Unawezaje kuomba pombe kutoka kwa mtu wako wa mkono? Si ulisema Mr Survivor ni mtu wako wa mkono?” asked Wambu, Mathee’s lead usher. I could see the embarrassment on his face.
“Give him a full jug,” I told Wambu.
As I left Green Valley later that evening, I decided to check on my Concorde’s physical heath. I was met by a shouting inscription on both the windscreen and rear screen. ‘Omosh’s Airbus’. Omosh’s telephone number, X account, Facebook and Tiktok followed. And with the whole physical and digital address displayed, who cannot believe his lies?
As the clever entrepreneur that I am, and considering my new DC name and status, I would not wish to stoop low as to prove that I am the owner of the two cars. Financial actions speaker louder than words.
Wainaina Karanja lives in Nyandarua County. He is a teacher of English and writes stories to portray the reality of countryside life in Kenya as well as offer entertainment. [email protected]