marriage part 1

What is a marriage, and better yet, why is a marriage? Well, a marriage is widely considered to be an union between man and wife for the purpose of establishing a family. However, this definition have come under heavy attack from radical persons who want to redefine the issue, by trying to integrate within it foreign and unnatural concepts. An issue that shows just how important this institution is the raging debate on the provisions of this new constitution, specifically on the claim by some that it legalizes gay marriages.

The church vehemently opposed the new constitution on two major grounds, abortion and gay rights.  Some people have read some provisions, especially on issues of marriage, to mean the possibility of legal loopholes which could be used in the future to legalize gay marriages. Do i support such a possibility, no, capital no in fact. And its my believe that any man, or woman who purports to believe in gay rights is immoral, sinful and hypocritical. gay people in my opinion are an affront to both nature and God, and as proteges of both this entities, we should find such behavior repugnant to both law and morality.

To go back to the start, a marriage should be a beautiful thing. This however is more easier said than done, as most of you can bear witness. The bible says “he who finds a good wife finds a good thing, and receives favor from God.” Then why do some people, having found themselves good wives, and receiving favor from God, commence to use the fruits of that favor to harass, torment  and destroy their better halves. In my opinion only one outcome of such inhumane acts can arise, and that is to draw the wrath of the Almighty. For how can fate lead you to a path of divine luck, and on top of that, grant you ultimate executive gifts from heaven only to turn upon the very angel through whom such acts were made possible. No, the good lord would not turn a blind eye to such slights, and I’m sure the angel of wrath would be quickly summoned to dish out justice in equal measure, a tooth for a tooth, torment for torment, ingratitude for eternal damnation.


The Weekend after

Last time i spent some quality time, caressing the keyboard of my pc in order to recreate a significant part of my weekend escapades. The truth is, writing allows you to portray something as being too good, while in essence a day was just ordinary. Anyway, my week was just ordinary and i have no idea what i did in the course of the week. The only interesting thing was the discovery of these great blogs which I’ve been devouring with relish day and night. Of special mention is writers like Bikozulu, Nyambura, the spinster, Kbaab. There are several more but I’ve not had the chance to partake in their literal delicacies, but have no doubt, my hunger has not been sated yet.

Friday for me started like any other day, and my only agenda for the day was a talk show being held at la mada hotel Thika road. So i decided to go pay a visit to a pal of mine, a former class mate in KU; might as well kill two birds with one stone. The funny thing is i never made it to the talk, reason, a stupid conductor who refused to let me a light at la mada. The fool takes me all the way to the Survey stage and expects me to walk all that way, amidst the dust and the scorching heat. Needles to say i cast daggers at the fool, mumbled something obscene and told the imbecile to continue moving since i had no intention of alighting. I swear the dude wanted to say something rude, but changed his mind on realizing just how dangerous that could turn out to be; for him of course.

6pm I’m in the CBD looking forward to going home. My pal gives me a call urging me to chill for him so we can have the proverbial one for the road. So i head to bettys, eager to meet my long lost friend; Bavaria 8.6. I meet this two friends of mine, and one of them is hotter than the January sun. For real it seems global warming is not just affecting the climate, but the beauty of a select group of women and this one is on top of that list. Anyway we chat for awhile, apparently they are waiting for some guys who are supposed to take them out, lucky fellas those must be. I take my leave, and make it to the club and locate a strategic seat on the counter. But damn didn’t i feel lonely sitting there all alone while everyone either had a friend, a lover or even both. As for me, i had squat, nada, zero and the only company i had were the virtual friends in facebook.

As my glass meets my lips, a beautiful kiss between flesh and barley, a consummation of a marriage made in a brewery in Holland.  I love Bavaria, more so because its so strong and it doesn’t really have hangovers. Its good value for money since you don’t need to take a lot of it to get drunk, and your thin pocket gets a bit of a reprieve. I’m in my third bavaria when my pal breeze in and orders his usual alvaro. Dude I don’t know how many times i got to say this, get rid of this soda nonsense and acquire a taste for liquor, any liquor for that matter. We change venue and head to Jazz where as always, they disappoint me with the simple fact that they don’t stock my bavaria and i have to settle for a pilisner. Drinking on an empty stomach is not recommended so i order some rice beef and accompany the delicious food with some red wine; just kidding, pilsner will do today.

This place is rather dull today, and my pal ken is dancing on the floor with 2 or three guys; no ladies. So i propose we ditch that pub and head to westy, see whether the goddess of fun and mischief was brewing a storm of excitement in that direction.  Outside red tape i bump into my pal George with his gal friend, apparently having been frozen by the bouncers. i get into the club for a look and the place is half empty at midnight; this is not our night i guess. So we follow George and his friends, two other guys and a chic, to their car and go in search of a better joint. One of this dude must be doing so good because he was driving a brand new Land cruiser Prado, massive car that fits all of us effortlessly.

At sohos, the place is half empty too but we decide to have a drink nonetheless. My pal George is having some Malibu cocktails, same with his girlfriend; the damn things cost 500 each. I was wondering how these guys are looking so drunk if all they’ve been taking is this expensive shit; but I didn’t have long before i learnt the truth of the matter. And boy, didn’t i regret coming upon that truth, it wasted me, killed me even, but that’s what Friday nights are for anyway. George and his girlfriend drags me out to their car, asks me to get in and get comfortable which i oblige; but grudgingly since i didn’t quite know what the deal is. Shock on me when this dude reaches below the seat and produces three 750 ml bottles of famouse grouse, and i swear there was an evil gleam in their eyes. Needless to say we drank that shit, the three of us till our vision became blurry, at least mine anyway. We head back to the club and i don’t even remember finishing my other drink.

My pal ken, being the funny character he is, insists that i take him to changes. i tell the dude to find his own way there but dude is stubborn, and i oblige after insistent nagging. Now i don’t know what orgies were going on in that place but it was too packed, inclusive of several tents outside. i leave the guy there and make my way back to sohos, after being lost a couple of times only to find my pals gone. I tried calling them without success; I was later to learn the phones were one of the chic’s bag and she’d left it at the car.  I’m annoyed at ken at this juncture since those guys would have dropped me at home later, saving me time and money in the process. No worry, the course of true friendship never run smooth, or was it love? I look every where for this dude at Changes but can’t trace him and the only thing evident is the immorality going on in the dim spaces. i swear i saw a guy bendoveriing a chic, not to the song bendover but to other more animalistic inner songs.Needless to say the only singing to the music by the above persons was several undecipherable moans and groans, what has this nation come to.

I took a mat to town and another one to banana and i was looking forward to some well deserved rest at my bed. But the Mat dumps me somewhere short of my destination at four in the morning, the sheer audacity in those guys. After 30 minutes of waiting for another mat i decide  to take a cab home which costs 3 times the amount it costs from banana. May fate curse those fools with impotence, i hate their guts. After being deposited by the cab at the gate, I think some robbers were lurking about and they scared me shitless, and i ran frantically to the other side, via my neighbor’s land seeking refuge at my friends house. But the guy doesn’t open the door, must have a chips funga or something so I’m forced to man up and head to the road to meet my ambushers. luckily I find no one there and i head to my crib, crush in ma bed, and sleep with everything on, including the shoes. i was later to learn that two of my neighbors were robbed somewhere close to my home in the middle of the night.

A nice weekend part 2

Someone named Nyambura commented on the last part and wondered just how a broke person has so much fan, to tell the truth, I wonder so too. Anyway, to answer a part of your question, daughter of mumbi, is the simple fact that i always live beyond my means. Some great man at some unspecified period in time once said ” he who lives within his means suffers from a lack of imagination.” So Ive put it out there, this writer putting words to this piece lives beyond his means, a higher beyond. But that is not the purpose of this article and neither do i wish to burden you with senseless information. This blog is about my weekend, and lectures did not constitute any part of it.

so Saturday turned out to be Saturday, a day to heng with friends and have some fun. for lets face it, what is better than spending a whole afternoon watching ball and taking liquor in the company of several pals. But i wasn’t going anywhere today before doing my body some justice, and hence a small session of rigorous exercise. Of late people have been saying just how big Ive got with many suggesting that I must have hit the gym hard. On the contrary, my body seems to just grow, my muscles stretching a little everyday. Its curious the way women tend to notice your looks when you have a small body and the most complements that you get is that of cuteness. Cute, for a man, that in my opinion amounts to mockery of masculinity…and rather be told that I’m rugged and hard as compared to cute. So anyway at least the women now tend to notice my body more, and i get more complements like “you have such a nice body,” or “damn (while she touches my chest, or bicep) your body is so hot. I can swear sometimes you can see the lust in a woman’s eyes, hehe, stay away; this body is not for everyone.

Forgive me for digressing from the topic, but its impossible not to do so when writing tempts your sense of freedom. My sister tends to go on strike sometimes and leaves home early which translates to no lunch for us. So after a shower, I head out to banana town for some delicious pork at my favorite swine joint. Now I love many things in this life but few things can rival, or even be mentioned on a similar sentence with pork. Once arsenal fc had been at a par, but the last few years have eroded that love and swine sits on a throne unrivaled. So I have to admit that taking that half kg of pork with humongous ugali cheered me up beyond measure and i was literary bouncing as i headed to pick a mat to the Village market.

The first thing i always do when i reach the village market is to head to the silverbird theater to pick a movie guide and peep inside the pool hall for any worthy opponent. So having failed to see anyone worthy to challenge my pool skill i headed to the food court where i was going to meet my pals. I passed by prime cuts and ordered a tusker and settled down on one of this high tables outside German point. Now the village market food court is a nice place to heng, the open air setting quite to my taste. the only shortcoming is the fact that there is only one restaurant with a tv, and needles to say one has to be early to secure a convenient place.  I think I should write a heartfelt letter to the management of the village market to donate a tv screen to all the restaurants in the court.

My pals arrive later and we have a great time chatting about everything and nothing. I’m talking with my friends and i remember this time back, at spree club, my pal grace  ordered a big Guinness as compared with my order for sweet white wine. The waiter delivers the order but proceeds to assign the wine to her and the Guinness to me. Shock on him when we told him that he’d made a mistake and the Guinness was hers, he looked at me with that questioning look full of wonder. The only disappointment was the fact that those white fools decided to watch the man u game and i was eagerly waiting to see the gunners gun down wigan, and we nearly started chanting our favorite slogans “haki yetu, weka game ya arsenal, haki yetu.” I hope, dear reader, that your afternoon was just as nice if not better.

Sunday, the Lord’s day and I fail to make to church for the fifth week in a row. My dad asks in a mocking tone, what it is that is so important that i don’t have time for the Lord. now i love my dad but i think he needs to be reprimanded for plagiarism, since it was my mom”s custom to ask those questions. needless to point out that Iv woken up at 10 am, I’m  sure most of you woke up later; much later. I settle comfortably on my comp and work on one of the short  stories that I’m working on, an interesting idea planted by a drunk pal. Lunch reaches fast and since i’m very broke as i pointed out in the last post, I wait for my sister to make some lunch.

I link up with my pals from yesterday,  and together with ma pal ken head to VM; again. We meet this other pal, also named ken there, taking a fanta as usual….this guy needs to start drinking asap; this soda nonsense aint that cool especially when we in a club trying to look cool. Now My two friends, ken and ken are very different in character and i could see that their interaction wasn’t that smooth. One ken, the one we met at vm loves to joke too much, and might even be considered immature. Moreover, and i know Bikozulu is sneering here, he has this multi colored Mohawk which in my opinion is rather ugly (If you see this dude, ur ma buddy and all but i dnt like Mohawks). The other ken is a serious dude, very composed, a lawyer with price water house cooper. So later ken is wondering aloud, after some drinks, why he has to be made to heng with dudes like that?My answer, people will always be different or? please insert your opinion here, laugh laugh.

We are drinking with stories flowing merrily as we wait for my other pal soni to join us. Anyway she doesn’t make and i get an interesting sms from her complaining that her boyfriend is having guests around and shes expected to play cook and host. poor woman is hysterical and must be throwing a tantrum in the bedroom, cursing who on earth invented relationships. So i send her a text consoling her and telling her to accept her God given duty as a woman, and take care of her new family to be.  Poor lady, never gets any time to heng with her pals any more and she has to devote all her time to boyfy, ahh well I’m partying enough for the two of us dear pal.

Anyway nothing eventful happens except meeting ma close cousin Sarah and her bofy, who bought us another round of drinks. Now what struck me as odd was the fact that my cousin is a born again, a true sister to Chrsit. On the other hand her boyfy and his crew, who seemed to be serious bad boys, was nursing a huge bottle of Guinness..No wonder she and her pal kept on taking walks rather that watch her love partake of this worldly sins. And as the day came to an end, i couldn’t help and appreciate the power of love..a bridge that brings together two worlds and breaks down the barriers of attitudes.

A nice weekend part 1

Last weekend was just a typical weekend for me, but made special coz I got to spend it with special people. Now you have to understand that there are some people hadn’t seen the whole of this year. Friday started like just any other Furahi day, and I was hoping that  at least some plans might come up and give me a nice ending to otherwise boring week. Anyway, I decided that rave for this month is inappropriate, more so since i’m broke, more so than the mythical church mouse. After a quick shower, Im never the one to take forever in a shower. after all i do bathe everyday and i don’t see where so much dirt can come from in one day. I took a mat to town after bargaining with the greedy conda and settling for 40 bob, see I told you i’m broke. 30 minutes later saw me land in town, and after checking myself out to ensure everything was in place, headed to mama ngina street in search of 20th century. To digress a bit from this story, i got to say i’m feeling good.Why? No reason really, I think i’m going crazy. You should see me rock ma head, up and down, thrown my hands up and shake them, like the world depends on it. I close my eyes, stretch my hands as if to embrace my fate, which fate, well don’t know really, but thats the beauty of it. But lets go back to the story, this story which i’m trying to complete as tahidi high tries its best to distract me. No worry, you come first my dear reader and hence i must gather my literal wits and go on in this journey, well at least my fingers must. And so me and my pal ken acquired two tickets for the movie faster starring the rock Dwayne Jonson. Now I’m not a fun of this goon, seeing as he has a tendency to act gay movies like the toothfairy. But this movie is alright by my standards and vengeance here is served fast and hard. But the dude should have smoked that pastor dude, that suspense had been way too much. But the highlight of that movie was this two chics sitting across from us, made so by the fact that one of them had some beautiful legs. To make matters worse she stretched them over the seat in front of her, exposing them all the way to her mid Thailands. men it is not that easy to concentrate on a movie with a hot chic displaying her beautiful wares close by, you just feel like telling her to let you kneel before her and use you as her support for those lovely legs. So later I head to jazz where i was linking up with ma beautiful pal soni for coffee and maybe a beer. But recent times have seen all our coffee dates turn to liquor dates and i decided enough with hypocrisy, today I’m sticking to coffee. So Soni saunters into the club and on spotting me gives me one of her killer smile, walks over and leans for a quick hug. Now i don’t always note her dressing habits but today shes looking exceptional well in her dress top, showing off her lovely figure. anyway we have coffee and talk about everything and nothing, but then again, isn’t that what friendship is all about. So soni is asking me why on earth I’m taking coffee on a Friday, and goes ahead to decline my offer to order her coffee but instead settles for a cold, crisp redds. Men that dj had to start playing some really cool jams just when we were leaving, talk about an annoying way to end a Friday. and being the gentle man i am, cough cough, i escort ma pal to her stage and after a brief hug head towards my own stage and make my way home. And after an uneventful trip in a very old matatu, I find myself in my lonely crib with the only company being several blogs by great writers. tomorrow would probably be a better day, but still, Friday was okay by any standard.

Knowing me- part 2

I had a beautiful childhood. Beautiful in many ways, yet tough in so many others. But if I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing. The one thing that I remember my mom telling me about the period preceding my first birthday, is the fact that I was very lazy. She used to rile me on the fact that it took me 1 year 2 months to walk, while my other siblings took less that an year. Needless to say as the first born, my siblings felt it necessary to disregard the pace i had set for them. To make up for the laziness, I was a good infant and didn’t cry for no particular reason. My mom always said that it would have been easy for any stranger to steal me since i never refused any chance to be held by strangers. I was always smiling foolishly to everyone who would indulge me with a hold, especially the one who would be gracious enough to throw me up then catch me. yes, i was a good baby in every regard, except the lazy habits. But then again when your a few months old, where is the hurry? After all, even if you learn to walk early, it is not like you’ll be going anywhere soon. But I like to think that it must have been early wisdom, a grasp of the biblical scripture “the first will not always finish first.” I look at some of my baby pictures and i can’t help but notice how fat i was. Makes me wonder where all that potential went, for most of my life I’ve been a skinny kid. But the dynamics of this world are always elusive, hidden from the understanding of mere mortals. My mom must have loved to feed me, and I once must have been a glutton. yes, it was clear from then that my mom was a good mother, from the time of my birth to the time of her death.

The Lost mzungu and other short Stories- The Alcohol Revolution

pg 1

This story will be told in bars across the country, both by drunks and sober a like. It is a tale of courage and pain, of attempts to subvert the wheels of democracy. Moreover some can justly say that a conspiracy to infringe on our freedoms was a foot, but it did not succeed., but just barely. yes, they were going to take the drinks from our hands, to kill our rights to assemble and partake of the blessed brew. But there are things in this world which are greater than any one person, and the attempt by any person to take them away is recipe for rebellion. And in this land, a cold beer at the end of the day is a right we truly hold dear. In fact, Kenyans have a culture of taking a drink anytime of the day, a reflection of the democracy Kenyans have always held dear. yes, this story is about a man who tried to take this fundamnetal right from us, subjecting us to thirst and general oppresion.

I remember the good old days when i was in college, in a small pub in the back alleys of the capital city. There was this revolutionary pub, very small interior aided by several tables and seats outside the pub. It was during this period when the countries premier brewer, Kenya brewery introduced the cost friendly senator keg. before people used to take strong spirits among the favorite brands being Kenya King, napoleon, razz, sapphire, Merry Cane among others. But senator keg allowed those with shallow pockets, especially students like ourselves to have a cold beer at the end of the day. Now you have to understand that for students, a typical day ends at 1 pm and hence the only logical thing to do is to head to a favorite joint and have a beer. Sop any law that bans drinking before 5 is draconian and barbaric, and denies this class of Kenyans a rightly earned session with both friends and beer.

The Lost mzungu and other short stories- where is truth (The complete story)

“Order, order in my court room.” Shouted the sober judge as the startled court room looked on, perplexed by the sudden outburst from the presiding judge. It is not uncommon for judges to shout out in response to severe noise made by spectators or interested parties in a court room. What made this particular scene odd was the fact that the court room was silent previous to the outburst and hence the surprised expression worn by most people in the packed court room. “I will have order in my court room or I will hold all of you in contempt of this court” continued justice Furaha in a silent ominous voice sending a chill to his audience, who watched silently as the judge seethed for offenses not yet clear to them.
Now Furaha was not an ordinary man, not only due to his achievements that made it possible to adorn the judicial robe but for other reasons not clear to the mass. It would be wrong or at least fallacious to describe his true nature as great, since the word that bests fit him is odd. Yes, this particular justice was very odd not only in the way he determined his cases but in the reasoning that led to those judgments. But he was not always like this, this sober man, for there was a time that his conformity to the traditions of the legal practice earned him his current position. But the universe is an odd place and the mechanisms of time have a way of altering even the sober of minds. So why should a learned judge be an exception to the tricks of fate? For no mortal justice can bring fate to book. And thus the good judge found himself torn between the need to do his duty and his inner longing to exploit his fetish, nature versus nurture.
Furaha did not always want to be a judge. In fact his dream was to be a pro dancer, waltzing into the best ballrooms of the world. He had always thought himself as possessing unbelievable talent in dancing, and hence the thought that it was only a short time before he could achieve his childhood dream. His father did not quite agree, believing that his son was too bright to pursue such a nonintellectual path. Nonetheless, he let his son indulge in his fantasy and did not discourage him from taking adequate time practicing while he should be studying. Day and night Furaha practiced, in the dance school during the day and in his room at night. Indeed, there didn’t seem to be any scenario whereby the young dancer wouldn’t achieve success.
The butter on the bread for Furaha was Winny, his dance partner and love of his life. Winny was beautiful, with a smile that could rival that of the Monalisa. She was blessed with a figure so stunning many were suspected to have broken their necks on the street craning to have a second glance at her. But she was furaha’s, she of such divine beauty. And more than dancing, in fact more than anything or anyone in the world, he loved her. His love for her was so intense that he knew, if it ever came to it, he would gladly lay down his life for her. And everyone thought what a beautiful couple they made, and needless to say their relationship was the envy of the whole estate. It was a sad day for Furaha when his winny packed her bags to leave for her first year in a distant college, to pursue an Arts degree in Music. As for him, to ensure that their knowledge of music and dance is in sync, he too enrolled in another campus as winny’s program was already full. Such was his devotion to their unity, never once doubting their eventual matrimony.
There was a good reason why Justice Furaha was unable to concentrate on this particular trial. He was looking forward to the next case in his calendar, and found the present case boring and trivial. Divorce cases always bored him, wondering exactly why the state cared so much about why mature people wanted to divorce. In fact, he was not aware of any single divorce case he had objected and had always speedily allowed the parties to separate. He was always a fair man and divided property in a manner that he felt was just for both parties; all factors considered. However, he frowned heavily on gold diggers who sought to reap where they hadn’t sowed and did not assign to any what he wasn’t owed. He once sent a gold digger without a cent when it was clear to him that all she had wanted from the beginning was the man’s wealth.
“I’ve heard enough.” Cried the judge and the aggrieved parties looked on, not sure what to do. “We shall meet here in the morning when I shall deliver my judgment, court adjourned.” Furaha briskly walked out of the court room leaving one of the lawyers who was in the middle of presenting his argument completely baffled. And since there was nothing else they could do, they shepherded their clients out of the court room to await judgment tomorrow. Some people were heard questioning the outcome of the day, wondering whether court cases are always carried out in such a drastic and bewildering manner.
The judge relaxed in a comfortable seat inside his office and wondered how he was going to handle the next case. A section of the legal society were suing the police commissioner for human rights abuse during a demonstration recently held by these learned friends to complain against these same violations. But it seemed that the country was bent on perpetual ignorance, a need to abuse others as a tool of dominance and subverting rebellion. He couldn’t help and feel apprehensive about all these, curious about what would happen if the judges took to the street to complain about the same. Would these security men be so enthusiastic to fall upon them with clubs and water cannons, kicking and punching these noble fellows? Perhaps they would. But he did not intend to let that ever happen and the next case would give him and his brothers a chance to redress this issue once for good. But that was what he would want all his colleagues to believe, for the truth was something totally different.
Furaha back in the days loved to visit his beloved, loving the surprised expression in her face when he surprised her with a visit. He would prepare himself meticulously, choosing just the very clothes that Winny always complemented. But before that day could be upon him, he would spend several more looking for just the right presents to take to his dear Winny. Mostly he would settle for jewelry, expensive ones since she was a woman with very exquisite and expensive taste. But he never did mind, noble Furaha, for the wise men of old did say that love is indeed blind. Some local gurus in fact went further to declare that the beloved’s place has no hills, something that was quite ironical especially in that country. But then, Furaha was so begotten he could never doubt her love for him; and in his eyes Winny could never do any wrong. Once some one had asked him what his definition of an angel was, and he had promptly told the enquiring fellow that it must be Winny. No need to say that Furaha had walked away chuckling to himself as his bewildered companion was left to try and come to terms with his friend’s witty answer.
So after frantic efforts to acquire the right gift for her, he would pack for a weekend and head to her campus. And on arrival, he would show himself in to her room using the key she had given him and wait for her. He always travelled there on a Friday since he knew she would never be in her room and hence his presence in her room would definitely be a surprise. And when she came into the room she would cry in delight and throw her arms around him, hugging him tight close to her beautiful bosom. That hug always stayed with him long after the visit, a beautiful memory acting as a reference point for joy in terms of sadness. She would lean back a bit so as to kiss his lips, slowly at first but frantically as their desire rises up. And there in her room, they would make sweet love taking only short breaks to get some food in their exhausted bodies. Yes, these were beautiful times for Furaha, the best days of his life.
“All rise, Justice Furaha presiding” The people rose as the judge walked into the court room, taking his time to settle into his seat.
“In the case of Monica vs. James, I have come to the following conclusion. That the defendant’s actions constitute desertion and that the plaintiff has proved her case adequately. And cognizant to the marriage laws of Kenya, I direct that the properties in question be divided into two and each party be privy to an equal half. In addition, the matrimonial house shall be the property of the plaintiff who shall have custody of the children and shall create an adequate forum for them to see their father. The father shall provide monthly child support for their upkeep to the tune of 100,000 monthly and failure to do so shall constitute contempt of court. Let it go on record that that is the courts final judgment. The court therefore considers this marriage nullified with immediate effect.”
The defendant looked at the judge forlornly and though he would have loved nothing better but to issue insults, he knew well that such acts would lead him to the slammer. He cast daggers to his ex-wife and cursed the day she came into his life. But deeper within himself, he knew he was to blame and considered changing his philandering ways if he is to avoid such losses in the future. Justice Furaha looked at the defendant, disappointed that he didn’t cause an outburst, and hence melancholic at being denied a chance to send this promiscuous man to Kamiti. He has always hated such men, promiscuous and immoral, eating away at the very moral fiber of his society.
“Perhaps it’s time parliament made stiffer laws against such people,” murmured Furaha to himself as he waited for the clerk to call the next case.
“Activists caucus of Kenya vs. The Police Commissioner.,” The clerk shouted apprehensively wondering how such a case could possibly progress.
In the past attempts to file such cases against such high profile government departments usually ended up being thrown out. The bailiff expected this one to follow a similar course, confident that Furaha would listen briefly and find that the case lacked merit. The attorney general had sent one of his lawyers to represent the commissioner who was being sued on behalf of the police service. These particular activists were incensed by the fact that the police had not ceased infringing on their rights every time they assembled to demonstrate against injustices. The new constitution had provided citizens with the right to file suits against officers or other government agents who infringe on rights given them by the new dispensation. It came as no surprise that the police department, always brutal and primitive, was the subject of such a major suit by a group of different civil groups.
“May the plaintiff present its motion so that the court can judge the validity of this suit,” said Furaha slowly, knowing very well that he intended to listen to the case to its conclusion.
The lawyer looking regal and important, carefully chosen by this group as having the best qualification to enhance their agendas, stood up with several notes in his hand.
“Your honour, as this court may be aware, we have recently enacted a new constitution. This constitution was approved by a majority, in fact such a number as to make it incontestable. In this regard, all institutions in this country are bound to respect the will of the people of Kenya, and I am here to call upon this court to enforce this will,” he paused a bit to take a sip from his water bottle before continuing with his opening remarks.
“This new constitution grants the people of Kenya the authority to assemble at will and to demonstrate peacefully without being harassed or stooped. However, on three separate occasions, the police intervened and attacked peaceful demonstrators, injuring some and arresting some,” We are going to present evidence showing the occurrence of this heinous acts by the police and hence our hope that the court will not only grant us a hearing soon, but will at the end assign adequate damages to the aggrieved parties.” The plaintiff’s lawyer sat down to a loud applause from the audience, clearly elated at the way their lawyer was handling things.
The judge signaled to the commissioner’s lawyer to present a counter argument against proceeding with the case. He already knew the kind of thought that he would use in the hope of discouraging the continuation of this case, knew it because he had seen it all before. The government lawyers always tended to have that smugness on them, as if they truly knew that their clients were untouchable. A small fleeting smile appeared on this judge’s face, anticipating the surprise waylaying this ignorant lawyer.
Furaha was the star of the judiciary, his careful consideration and research in making judgments has always gone well with the higher powers. In fact, several times, he had declined offers for advancement into the court of appeal and maybe a real chance at the highest judicial office in the land. But Furaha had always declined such offers, insisting that his services were more needed here at the high court. The people on the upper offices have always been puzzled by this, and in their confusion had decided that Furaha was very modest and dedicated indeed. It was for that particular reason why all the major cases came to him, and his judgments were rarely, if ever, overturned by a higher court. His reputation was his shield, carefully crafted to withstand the fiercest legal battle and any possible consequence. And finally, this very patient man was just about to have his day; revenge was indeed a dish served cold.
As the attorney general’s learned friend rose to make his argument, Furaha couldn’t stop himself from reminiscing about the past and the implications it has had on his whole life. The lawyer even mistakenly took the smile playing on the judge’s face to mean that his argument was playing well with him, poor man, if only he knew. But such is the mysterious ways of fate, and the learned friend was just another casualty in a plot of man and fate, in pursuit of both justice and revenge. But he was not to know of this truth, forever destined to grope in the dark for an explanation of the events that were to follow. No, Furaha’s smile was not for him, but to a memory of her who always had his heart.
On the edges of Lake Naivasha, a couple holds hands as they walk along the sandy beach of the lake. Occasionally they look at each other and while he looks deeper in her eyes, he whispers those magical words and is rewarded with a perfect smile. The people around them look in envy, struck by the love evident in the acts of this young couple. As they walk on along the beach, he untangles his fingers from hers, and puts a protective arm around her shoulders. Instinctively, she puts he small perfect arm around his waist, a show of unity and reciprocated love. And the couple chooses a strategic point to look on at the lake and admire the flamingoes, so beautiful in this sunny day.
Furaha was drawn into the present by the silence permeating in the court room, and he found that the government man had already summed up his argument. Reluctant as he was to leave the past, the future loomed large and the outcome held for him more appeal.
“The question here is who bears the responsibility for these grave wrongs, and whether this court can ignore such blatant breach of the constitution. It is my belief that this branch of government has failed in the past to exert its authority to protect the fundamental rights of the people, and to continue doing so is fraudulent and a show of impunity. Therefore, I find that this case has merit and that the government has a case to answer for their role in the actions that led to harm and unlawful arrest of peaceful demonstrators.”
“Objection, the whole government cannot be held accountable for the acts of a few security individuals,” Shouted the incensed government man.
“But of course,” interjected the judge “Therefore, I direct that the police be enjoined in this case and that the plaintiff can go ahead and sue the police commissioner on behalf of the police service. These security men, who our learned friend alludes to, are agents of the commissioner and hence vicarious liability dictates that he takes responsibilities for their actions. “
“I hereby set the commencement date for this case to Tuesday next week, and that the police commissioner must appear in person to answer to these charges.”
The judge, clearly in good moods waited for the commotion to cool down.
“Court adjourned.”Days rushed so fast and Furaha could be seen in better moods as the day of reckoning beckoned. He had spent the week writing his judgment, taking his time to make it meticulous and binding.  He had researched greatly, referring to books of laws, the penal code and previous decisions to make sure that his decision was foolproof. Perhaps it should have appeared odd, even wrong to do before the case began. But that was no longer possible, the outcome of this case having been decided so long ago. The dice was cast, and nothing, not even fate could change the outcome. For all the parts had been cleverly set, there was no escaping this path; all that remained was the accused to accept his fate and give Furaha his day of triumph. And so, the judge sat soberly in his seat and ordered the commencement of the case, looking at the unsuspecting pawns before him.

“Your honor, we are going to present witnesses and other evidence that show the police service has knowingly infringed on the rights of these individuals and in the process caused them harm. We ask for permission to call our first witness,” continued the lawyer for the activists.

“You may proceed, and kindly employ haste as this court has other matters to attend to.” Said the judge even as he noted the absence of the commissioner.

But it didn’t matter, for he already knew the man wouldn’t come, aware of the man’s arrogance and sense of security. In fact, he had expected it, willed it for it fell right within his agenda. And so the good judge didn’t see any point in listening to these arguments, knowing well that they had no influence on the outcome of this case. So instead he thought of one Benson, a friend perhaps, a conspirator indeed.

Back in the days, Furaha had a friend in high school and his name was Benson. They were good friends, brought together by fate, and a class teacher who saw it fit to make them desk mates. Benson was a true genius in all fronts, academically and socially. He was always top of the class, far beyond the reach of any other student. In addition, his leadership skills were unmatched and it was no wonder that he became school captain, while Furaha ended up heading the entertainment docket.  But at the end of high school, a scene happened which saw Benson accused of cheating on his final exams and his results nullified. It was two years later, when Furaha remembered the plight of his friend, and appealed to his influential father to have his results removed from the cheating list. Moreover, though his father couldn’t fathom this increased generosity, he begged his father to be the one paying his friends university fees. All this was made with one condition, a condition based on Furaha’s complete confidence on Benson’s ability to achieve anything. That his friend must pursue a legal degree and employ his immense skills, to rise to the highest judicial office in the land, as fast as was humanly possible.

The case only lasted a week, and each part did its best to argue for its side, each hoping that the judge would rule in their favor. In the Day of Judgment, many would swear that they noticed a slight bounce in Furaha’s walking style; a testament perhaps for the joy he felt in this day of retribution. The courtroom was packed to capacity with every media house represented, ready to broadcast what might be a change in the way things are done. And true to this prediction, Furaha didn’t disappoint.

“Ladies and gentleman, today is a monumental; day in the history of this nation, and this court finds itself in a unique position to address grave wrongs conducted with disregard to human rights and adherence to our constitutional dispensation. This court cannot ignore that, not even if the accused is the President, for the people, and indeed the government has continuously demanded an end to impunity.”

And Justice Furaha went forth, with a small smile in his face, to rule in the activists’ favor finding that there was clear evidence of these wrongs and that a clear link has been established between the conduct of the officers and standing directives issued by the commissioner. On the issue of damages, Furaha awarded the caucus 1 billion shilling to act as a deterrent against government excesses in the future and directed that the same be paid out within a month or the AG will be found in contempt of court. But the shocker came when Furaha went forth to find that the commissioner was in contempt of court for failing, at all sessions, to appear as directed by the court.  Moreover, he ruled that the commissioner was in direct violation of the constitution and that his liability in this case constituted criminal wrongs and hence was subject to justice. For every day that he had not appeared in court, Furaha sentenced him o the maximum sentence of 1 year for every count, totaling to 7 years. For his role in allowing such gross police misconduct, he was sentenced to 3 years or a 50 million fine. Furaha, in conclusion issued an arrest warrant directing the AG to carry out the arrest with immediate effect and proceed to take him to Kamiti prison to carry out his sentence.

The events of that day shocked the powers that be, and the judgment was hailed by many as a step in the right direction against a culture of impunity. The AG, wary of being subject to a similar fate, quickly carried out the wishes of the court and the next day found the commissioner sited in a comfortable cell. He had appealed to the president for help, but the president’s hands were tied by a strong opposition looking for any reason to frustrate his agendas. All the hope now lay on the appeal filed the following day by the AG, pending before Chief Justice Benson. If only he knew how long the dice had been cast, he would have come to term early with his present predicament. For only God, or a daredevil breakout could secure him freedom. And thus another great man fell, a casualty of both fate and man in pursuit of justice and redemption.

And so the ghost of that fateful day could be laid to rest, justice having been done in equal measure. He will no longer be tormented by the events of that day, a day which forever changed Furaha’s day. He whose chosen career was music, forced to abandon a dream in order to seek justice for an immortal sin done to him so long a go. And with time, he had plotted, helped together with his influential friends, the rise of a talented young policeman to rise to the very top. A young policeman who had broken his heart, once when he had travelled to see his beloved Winnie full of love and expectations. And on opening her door, always so silently, found her in the arms of another man. Furaha was later to know that this man, who Winnie thereafter left him for, was a young policeman.