TRENDING DAILY POST | We Collect and Share Stories with you!

TRENDING HORROR STORY: The Kenyan UBER DRIVER picks a DEPRESSED 'KDF' ARMY OFFICER who has been working in SOMALIA "Around Nairobi One Night at gun-point"

0 comments


Him and I: Here I stand, with everything to lose,
All I know is I don’t wanna ever see the end.
Baby please, I’m reaching out for you,
Won’t you open up your heart and let me come back in,
Let’s be us again.

Him: Look at me I’m way past pride,
Isn’t there some way that we can try,
To be us again.
Even if it takes a while,
I’ll wait right here until I see that smile,
That says we’re us again.

As he sings, he shuts his eyes and I figure he is picturing himself and Wangu at the balcony of this very hotel sipping coffee and gazing into the distant Ngong Hills. I figure he’s regretting running away from her and joining the army. I figure he’s regretting not deserting with her and running off to a distant country with her. I figure he misses her. And for the first time, I feel sorry for him. Him who is so young yet has lived through such turmoil. I figure he’s only trying to rediscover himself.

Him and I: Here I stand with everything to lose,
All I know is I don’t wanna ever see the end.
Baby please,
I’m reaching out for you,
Won’t you open up your heart and let me come back in
Let’s be us (Ohhh)
Baby baby, what would I do?
Can’t imagine life without you.

Him: Here I stand with everything to lose.
All I know is I don’t wanna ever see the end,
Baby please,
I’m reaching out for you
Won’t you open up your heart and let me come back in?
Oh here I am I’m, reaching out for you,
Won’t you open up your heart and let me come back in?
Lets be us again.
Oh, lets be us again.

I noticed his face shining in the lighting and his eyes shut and I figured he needed sometime alone. If he realizes that he’s crying, he doesn’t do much about it. He just lets them tears flow.

And as I watch him weep and sing and let his heart go out for the woman he loved and lost, I realize I have never felt what he feels. I have never loved my wife with the same intensity that he loves Wangu. It is no wonder thus that she cheated on me time and again.

Our meal is brought to us and we enjoy it without a hurry in the world and in silence. We both figure that we have said all that there is to be said, done all that there is to be done and even though we only met a few hours ago, I feel like I have known Charles my whole life. Like I have been with him through his ups and downs.

At 04:18h, he tells me that I should be getting back to town because I need to drop off his envelop at the Nation Center at exactly 05:00h.

Him: Not 04:59h and not 05:01h but 05:00h. Do you understand?

Me: Yeah. Sure. What’s in it?

Him: My suicide note. (Again, I glance at him to see if he’s kidding and again his stone face informs me that he is not) Is that your poker face or are you being really seriously serious right now?

Him: What do you think? (I’m getting nervous but then I relax when he smiles).

We drive out of Hemingsway after he’s cleared the exorbitant bill and he instructs me to use Ngong Road which I do. The traffic is still light and I can manage to drive at 120km/h comfortably.

Me: So where will I drop you off?

Him: At the DoD where you picked me up. So you better step on it.

And I drive down Lang’ata Road like bats out of hell and up Mbagathi Road right back to Hurlingham where this strange section of the night commenced.

Him: How much do I owe you?

That question surprises me. After his threat on my life, I wasn’t expecting him to pay.

Me: (After consulting my phone) Eight thousand, five hundred shillings.

He takes a wand of notes of his pocket and hands it over to me without even counting it.

Him: That money, use it to live. Do something you’ve never done before. Take a trip. Take tae-kwon-do lessons. Take a dancing class. Do something that doesn’t fall within the parameters of your current boring life.

Me: What about you? What are you going to do?

Him: Me? I’m a soldier. I’ll be a soldier till I die.

Me: Thank you Charles.

Him: For what?

Me: For not killing me I guess.

Him: Thank me by living. Thank all those souls that are lost in war so you can live in peace by living. Don’t die while you’re still alive.

Me: Same case applies to you, right?

Him: (Smiling) So long Daniel.

He steps out of the car and I wave him goodbye. He doesn’t wave back. I guess that would be very uncharacteristic of him. I feel like in him I have just made a friend. We’ll probably never see him again in my life, but I will never forget him. Maybe one day when I’m ninety, I’ll tell my fellow toothless “inmates” at the home for old people where my children will have stashed me that I had a friend once. A friend who I met and together we went on a life changing ride around Nairobi City in one night. His name was Charles. I wonder what became of him.

At 05:00h, I drop the package off at Nation Center as per instructions then I drive on home to Githurai.

Githurai 45. 05:16h

I find my wife fixing breakfast for the kids which they enjoy noisily and rush out into their waiting school bus.

As soon as they leave, I drop the bomb on my wife.

Me: I’m leaving.

Her: Where to?

Me: I don’t know. I will drive to Eldoret, then to Kitale and maybe cross the border into Uganda.

Her: What’re you talking about? Why would you do that?

Me: Because I don’t love you and if I stay with you another year I will do something I’ll regret.

Her: What about the kids, Daniel? You’re just going to walk out on them?

 

Me: I’ll be back. In a day or a week or a month or a year. I don’t know. But I am no value to them right now. I never even see them. I’m always working. I have busted my ass everyday for the last fifteen years with no leave days and I think it’s time I clocked out for a bit.

Her: I am not even surprised.

Me: I know. And you don’t have to hide your affair with Pastor Jerome anymore. I have known about it for three years now.

Her: Oh my God.

Me: It’s OK. You can keep the house and all our businesses and our farm upcountry. You can keep everything. I don’t want it. I just need the car. That’s all.

Her: And you’ll come back for them?

Me: They’re my kids. Yes I’ll come back for them.

Her: What do I tell them when they ask?

Me: That their daddy has gone back to school to learn how to love himself again so he can love them to the best of his capability.

Her: I’ll just tell them you went on a business trip.

Section 58. Nakuru. 09:00h.

“A body was this morning found along Valley Road and taken to City Mortuary. The decapitated body was badly disfigured after being ran over by speeding motorists along the busy road and the police suspect that the man was trying to rush across when he was ran over by a speeding car in a hit and run accident. Area OCPD Mr. Tom Kipruto has cautioned pedestrians against crossing the road and instead use the provided footbridge. We’ll be back with sports news after the break.”

As I listen to the news and drive to a cheap motel in Nakuru for some shut eye, I remember asking Charles about the contents of his envelop and his answer that it was a suicide note. I remember him saying that a Colt .45 will blow your head clean off your body. In my head I see him watching me drive off and as soon as I’m swallowed by the corner, I see him put the gun to his head and pull the trigger.

I hope he finds her in the afterlife. Hell. I hope for his sake, there’s an afterlife.

When I’m ninety, I guess I won’t have to think of my friend Charles and wonder what became of him. Him whose suicide note was read on national TV and shocked listeners all over the country and later the world. The confessions of a troubled soul belonging to a gallant soldier whose thirst for revenge drove him into the darkest corners of human existence.

Captain Charles Gachora. The man who in one night, changed my whole life. I hope he finally got what he wanted.

(The author, Charles Chanchori, is a graduate of Kenyatta University and Kenya School of law)

PAGE 1 2 3  4 5 6 7
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
 
Support : Disclaimer | Copyright © 2014. NATION NEWS - Rights Reserved

Proudly powered by Blogger