Our soja at the gate is a 40-ish something year old. That or life has/hasn't been so kind to him. I've barely ever seen him. In fact, I've never seen him outside his tiny hut at the gate.
He's always veiled up in his Maasai shuka. It's criminally chilly in Nanyuki at night.
One day I came back from town and the Boda guy wanted more than it usually costs. I'm quite averse to sending money on Mpesa to strangers these days and I had exact cash (had to eat smokie pasua on my way home).
Nduthi guy thought I wanted to steal his 50 Bob (extra)
So I asked soja if he had 50 on him. He handed it to me. I went upstairs and came back with 100 Bob. That's a 100% ROI. He got surprised. It hit me that he'd just given me the 50 Bob without expecting me to pay it back. He probably thought I genuinely had no cash. I felt touched.
Crazy how different life can be. On the one hand, someone is trying to extort me, on the other, another is willing to give up the little he had to a complete stranger who only says hi to him everyday.
I say hi to him. Everyday. It doesn't matter what mood I'm on, or what hurry I'm in. He gets thoroughly excited by it as well. I think he appreciates that I see him. Most people don't. They just walk past him nonchalantly. I wonder whether that pains him. I doubt it does, though.
This my soja, though, has one religious habit. He prays to his traditional deities every morning. Everyday at 4.30am he starts singing traditional song out loud. It's usually immediately after the 4.30am morning dua at the local mosque. Then he takes over.
His prayer usually takes longer, and it has no particular timeline to it either. Sometimes he does 5 minutes, other times he'd sing for an hour straight. I don't know if it's all a prayer or some of it is just the spiritual trance of song. It's beautiful...sometimes.
It rarely bothers me anymore. He's been singing for about 25 minutes now, though. Getting on my nerves somehow, because I'm trying to get this work done (has nothing to do with him btw). I can never tell whether it's pain in his voice or it's just the tone the prayer demands.
I hope he prays for me, though I heavily doubt he ever does. You could definitely use the help of all the gods you can find in this country. I know for sure I could.
He looks like a proper patriarch of his tribe. I can't tell how he ended up here but I try not to think about it.
He's stopped singing now. The silence is eerie. Almost scary. I honestly can't tell whether I want noise or silence to work in. I will walk down the stairs and buy soja breakfast. Maybe that's why his gods won't let me work. I hope my gods disturb my financiers like this.
If I come back and get my workflow back, I will worship whichever god it is that demands random loud prayers at 4am, then maybe we can be a community of very productive morning people in this plot. I don't think we're paying enough taxes on this block, honestly.
...and that includes the caretaker btw. Below is a photo of yesterday's sunset view from my balcony. #TaxTheRich (haha!)
Update : I've stepped outside and it's cold as a White Walker's breath. I've slapped a cup of coffee on it.
My mum's kids🤝doing the most.
He stood up, raised both his hands to the heavens, muttered a few words and placed his hands on me. I'm emotional now.
I've had a clearer look on his face. He must be at least 60. A very pleasant man. I like him, a lot. He'll leave my cup in his hut, he says. I'll pick it on my way to take sunrise photos.
Aaand back to work now: twitter threads don't pay bills, unfortunately.
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I bought this comb on my way to see her. It was the first time I was visiting. She lived far, flung out away from civilization. I hadn't known about rogue matatus back then. They made a 6 hour journey take exactly 12 hours. I was exhausted!
I found her waiting patiently for me. She told me to go shower as she warmed food. I had been working about 16 hours every day that week, on top of 2 hours spent on commute.
We were still getting to know each other, and it was my first time at her place. Things were tense.
She had brown eyes, and always looked directly into mine. She was tall, and had long, puffy hair. Very gentle in everything she did. Very calm, collected, stable.
She would one day tell me, "I don't think there's anything you can't solve". I could've married her that day.
I had a cup of tea with my old man today. My treat. It's been a while since we last had a chat.
He walked in about 7 minutes late. He had called promptly on time to apologise that he'd be running late. He apologises again as he takes the mask off his face.
I got my time-keeping from pops. He keeps time, and so do I. We haven't seen each other in a little over a month, me and him. We live in the same town.
Small talk, how are you doing blah blah blah...The waiter takes our order. Pause.
I notice my dad has grown old. The lines on his forehead have become thicker and he cares even less about his fashion sense everyday. Retirement just has its way on men. In a way, that's probably his mark of freedom. Love that for him. It stopped bothering me a long time ago.