THE PACKAGE

THE PACKAGE

Sweating and trembling, Eric made his way through downtown Nairobi’s human traffic. He didn’t understand why people were many on that day. There was so much shoving and pushing on all sides that made him more agitated than he at lready was. He too, just like the rest, was in a hurry. But his was a mission of far much greater importance. How he wished these people could understand.

“Pee, Pee!” A car hooted at him. He hadn’t seen it and it had just missed him by a whisker. He didn’t care. Deep down he wished it would’ve hit him. “Maybe that is less painful,” he thought to himself as he crossed the street.

Time was now running out. His footsteps were now hurried. He had to reach his destination in less than fifteen minutes. The human traffic wasn’t helping his situation and that made him curse at every pedestrian that pushed him

“Hey, watch where you are going,” shouted one man at Eric. He’d apparently stepped on him by mistake. He didn’t even stop, didn’t even apologize. He kept going. He couldn’t be late. Time was running out.

Just a few more meters, he met saw some policemen on patrol and his heart skipped a beat. There was no way of changing lanes. He’d have to pass near them. He gave himself a quick glance and decided that he looked like any other Kenyan. He had nothing to be afraid of. He was okay.

“Hey STOP!” bellowed one policeman as he passed them.

His heart now more than skipped a beat, it stopped altogether. Beads of sweat quickly started forming on his brow and all hairs on his body were erect. “It is over”, he thought to himself.

“Ye-ee-esss,” he stammered. He couldn’t even look at the policeman in the eye. Fear was written all over his face

“Excuse me sir, your shoe laces are undone,” said the policeman.

Eric then looked at his shoes and realized that truly they were undone. In his hurry, he’d forgotten to tie them up. He quickly bent and tied the laces.

“Thank you officer,” he said as he continued on his all important journey. His steps were now quicker. He had no time to waste.


^ ^ ^ ^ ^

It had all began less than a year ago. Eric had just gotten a promotion at his workplace at the ministry of foreign affairs, bought a house in an up market estate in town plus passed his MBA degree. All seemed to go well for him. He’d finally achieved his dreams. He’d made it and all looked well. But that was until he met Lucinda.

Lucinda was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. More beautiful than his wife who was a beauty in her own standards. The little flaws his wife had, Lucinda had corrected. Plus she was educated as opposed to his wife who just had an ‘O’ level certificate as her claim to an education.

Lucinda complemented his style and class. At last he felt he’d found a companion who was his soul mate; his kindred spirit. God had surely made this woman for him.

But with her beauty and class, Lucinda came with problems. She was demanding, expensive and down right possessive. Eric, who before was a caring and dutiful husband and father, turned into an alcoholic so as to keep up with Lucinda’s drinking habits. He also absconded his parental responsibilities and became an absentee father.

A man who always had a lot of cash at his disposal now found himself borrowing cash to support an extravagant mistress. Calls from his wife to discuss their affairs fell on deaf ears as Eric continued to do all to please his mistress. He was fast going downhill on the path of self-destruction

It finally became serious when after taking two loans to finance Lucinda’s ostentatious lifestyle, his salary could now not even support him. And that was the time Lucinda introduced him to the Libyan businessmen who were the cause of his present predicament


^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

Business was good at the beginning because they paid him handsomely to smuggle documents from his government office. At first they were documents like minutes of departmental meetings and work schedules of officers at the ministry but slowly the business men started demanding for more. They now wanted blueprints, classified information and documents concerning government missions abroad. These were risky and tricky to get hold of but since Eric wanted the money to impress Lucinda he’d always found a way.

When someone at the office enquired what he was doing, the occasional bribe would always silence the concerned officer. Nosy junior officers were dealt with more punitively.

Deep down he knew the Libyans weren’t good people but his illicit love affair always clouded his mind. Every job he did for them was always the last but greed for more money always made him to accept another job.

So, as usual, on the third Saturday of the month, the call from the Libyans came through. This time something was different. The usual pleasantries were not exchanged.The voice was today harsher and blunt. Instead of getting his usual instructions, the Libyans wanted to meet with him and give him the instructions face to face. A meeting place was then agreed. They were to meet on the next day at some Middle Eastern restaurant that was a favourite spot for foreign diplomats of Arab origin.

He arrived on time. Exactly at the top of the hour and found them there. They beckoned to him and he made way to their table.

Dressed in dark Armani suits and black sunglasses, they looked quite imposing. Looking at them now he wondered how he’d once thought they legitimate businessmen. They looked every inch mafia with their poise and demeanor.

“Kaa chini, mkubwa,” said Omari. Omari was the Libyan who did the talking. Having been brought up in Moshi, Tanzania, as he’d once told Eric, he was quite conversant with Swahili the local language.

“Thanks, said Eric as he sat down. Cold coke,” he told the waiter who had come to take his order. They then waited until the waiter had brought the soda before Omari spoke again

“So, Eric, I understand you’ll be visiting the Israeli embassy in two weeks time.”

That was a shock to Eric. He at once wondered how they could have come across that piece of information. It was true but the only people who knew about that information were the permanent secretary and the under secretary; Eric was to accompany some ministry of agriculture officials who were to pay a courtesy call on the Israeli embassy as they made arrangements to travel to Israel the following month to study irrigation methods.

“Don’t look so shocked. We know everything. We aren’t asking for much. We are just asking for a small favour.”

“What favour would that be?” asked Eric knowing too well it wasn’t a favour they were asking and there was no way it was ever going to be small.

“We want you to deliver a small package. You will carry it with you when you go for your meeting. Once you reach there you will ‘forget’ it there and walk away.”

“Huh?”

“Yes,” just like I said

“Can I ask what is in the package?”


“No you may not….Your orders are to deliver it and walk away.”

The first thing that came across Eric’s mind was a bomb. Oh God! It now hit him…This guys were terrorists.

“No I cannot. That would be treasonable, said Eric, now all high and mighty. Our countries relations will be dented after that.”

“You have no choice. Your wife and Lucinda lives are in danger. If u do not follow through we’ll kill them!”

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

Two minutes were now left; two minutes that would determine his fate; Two minutes to enter the Israeli embassy and ‘deliver’ the package. He knew he was being followed and so if he didn’t deliver the package, he’d be ‘responsible’ for the death of his wife and mistress.

Since the guard at the embassy knew him, he was quickly ushered through and found the agriculture officials at the lobby waiting for him. They looked so exicited since for most of them it was their first time visiting a foreign embassy. He shuddered at the thought that for most if not all of them, this would be their last visit.

He quickly ushered them into the ambassador’s office and left them discussing about their impeding visit. He then went to a closet and place the bag there. Then slowly he exited the embassy and made his way home.

As he now walked on the streets, his conscience gripped him and it was more powerful than the fear he felt at the beginning. He just couldn’t let the package be left at the embassy. His thoughts overtook him and he resolved to go back and correct the situation.

With his adrenaline at an al time high, he quickly turned around and started running towards the embassy. He ran as fast as he could because he knew any time now the package could explode. He didn’t even stop at the guard’s office. He burst into the embassy and made way for the package. It was still there. He grabbed it and quickly exited the embassy.

But time had indeed run out. As he reached the parking lot and was about to throw the package it exploded in his hands spreading shrapnel everywhere. There was only one casualty; Eric.


^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

At the state funeral organized for Eric, foreign dignitaries arrived in numbers. His courage and valor was what everyone talked about. Tales of his heroic escapade had spread all around and everyone held him in awe.

Initial investigations had concluded that Eric had somehow heard of a terrorist attack on the embassy and had gone to avert it. His was deemed a hero and both his government and the Israeli government gave him medals of honour. He had died a hero.

No one ever knew the truth of the matter or even suspected it. Two weeks later Lucinda was exterminated by the Libyans for choosing a wrong target in form of Eric. Her pleas had fallen on dead ears as the Libyans put a bullet across her forehead.

Across town, Eric’s wife was mourning a hero. In spite of her present predicament, she wasn’t badly off. She’d recently discovered bank records that showed Eric was worth a small fortune and the first time in a long while she was now able to live in comfort and luxury.

happy endings

Is there something as a truly happy ending? Do two people really find happiness with each other for eternity? Do soul mates and kindred spirits exist? How about fate and destiny?

I’m asking this cuz am getting sick and tired of these lovey-dovey movies about two young kids meeting and a few days later they are all ‘happily ever after’

I mean why aren’t we told about the first break-up or when the girl realizes that the dude is dogging her or when the shag loses meaning, eeeh? Or simply when the love fizzles out?

For a love story, won’t the portrayal of how human beings in love solve their problems be of far much importance than the idea of a flawless love affair that rarely takes place!

Cynical you think but aren’t we as a society eager to believe the impossible such that we’d search for fantasies and illusions to compare our boring lives with?

Studies have even shown that it is this unrealistic, far-from-reality relationships, that we see on telly that have contributed to problems in real life relationships. Don’t we all know about that previously happy couple where the girl started complaining that the dude wasn’t romantic or gentleman enuff, with her idea of these two attributes borrowed from an unrealistic phillipino soap opera? Didn’t her lack of chivalry in her relationship lead to the gal falling out –of – love with a true and right partner cuz he can’t be Alejandro enuff?

And just like that a realistic relationship goes down the drain whereas all it had taken was for the mama to appreciate her man and what she already had and if there were setbacks talk to with her partner and together they’d have seen the realistic way forward?

What I’m really saying, without being cynical, is that directors need to shot some realistic flick for once; a drama set in reality where it is boy meets gal, gets her number after a while, takes her out, grow to know her in a realistic way as in with haters present, jealousy, backbiting, alcoholism and all that and more surrounding them….

Or is there such a flick out there and its me who hasn’t seen it?

a series of unfortunate events

To say that Helen had lived a normal life would have been making mockery of her life. Life had not been kind for her. It had been one cruel experience that had lasted for way too long. She had seen and endured it all. All kinds of abuses had been hurled onto her from time to time. From physical to emotional, psychological and even verbal. She had borne it bravely without telling a soul what she went through. But tonight all this had to end; she could no longer take it. There had to be a way out.

So as she sat in her living room she contemplated what she was just about to do and a smile at once formed on her face because at last she was going to be free. Free at last from the shackles that had imprisoned her for most of her life.

The first time she had experienced abuse was when she was nine years old. On that particular day she had refused to go to the market opting to go to the fields and play with her friends. She had returned home to find an angry mother who had hurled all manner of insults at her. That really hurt her for she couldn’t understand how her own mother could call her such names. But that wasn’t the end. When her father had arrived home that night all hell had broken loose, he’d found out that his favourite dish had not been cooked and on enquiring why not he was told that it was his daughter who had not gone to the market. He responded by immediately striking his daughter. He rained slaps, blows and kicks on his daughter making her getting scarred for life.

From that time Helen had hated her parents because the physical and verbal abuse hadn’t stopped. In fact they had increased. The slightest mistake was met with slaps or insults and that really hurt her. She had therefore vowed when she cleared school she’d leave home and never go back. She’d go and search for the happiness that was rightfully hers.

But as fate would have it, the happiness was not that easy to find. She had joined campus and fallen in love with Eric in her first year. A charming, loving man at first who would later turn out to be her worst nightmare. He was just like her father. The beatings, verbal abuse started all over again. It was worse this time because Eric was a drunkard who would beat her up when he was drunk sometimes leaving half dead. The next day he would rush her hospital and when the doctor enquired how she had gotten her misfortune she’d lie about it. She always kept it to herself.

Tonight all this had to change; she was going to end it. She had had enough of the abuses. It was indeed time to take control of her body, mind and soul. Her plan was so perfect and luck was on her side this time. She smiled at the ingenious of her plan and prided herself on the possession of a brilliant mind.

Despite the unhappy marriage, three beautiful children had come out of it; Debra, Stewart and Jane were her pride and joy. Though Stewart was turning out like his dad by drinking a lot, she still loved him. She had made sure they were out of the house that night. She had sent the girls to her sister for the night and left a text message on Stewart’s phone telling him to spend the night at one of his friend’s house. She didn’t want them to experience what she was about to do. She knew they’d never forgive her. This plan had to be known by her only. No one else could understand what she was and had gone through for all those years.

And so in a dark living room she sat awaiting her tormentor. She had everything she needed in her hands. What was now needed was for him to pass through the front door. It was already eleven o’clock; he’d be home any minute.

At exactly ten past eleven her front door bell rang; the sound she had been waiting for. Since she had purposely left the door unlocked, she waited for Eric to enter.

The door opened and the person entering immediately groped for the light switch for it was dark. But before he could put the lights on, a loud bang filled the air. Helen had fired her gun.

The person immediately let out a loud wail and fell to the ground. He stood no chance against the might of Helen’s shotgun. He lay on the ground motionless and a familiar smile passed through Helen’s lips.

She then got up and approached the now still body. She was really not prepared of what she saw. The lying lifeless was not Eric but Stewart; her pride and joy.

© Oscar gee

the africants

THE AFRICANTS
To say that there was someone more stressed than Dunhill at the moment would have been an exaggeration. This forty something Civil Engineer had been for the last eighteen months tirelessly trying to bring ‘development’ to the people of Katmandu village. A futile effort it would seem as there was no progress showing.

It all started when his long – time friend, Aspen had decided to join ‘Doctors Without Borders’, A non- profit organization that went to impoverished areas to offer medical help. He then requested Dunhill to accompany him to Africa and use his vast experience in Civil Engineering to lay the groundwork for the construction of a modern clinic. Dunhill had been reluctant at first but grudgingly he left the comfort of his up-
Market apartment in Central Manhattan and headed to East Africa, a place he had only heard of in his history classes. What was initially a five week job had dragged on for the next eighteen months. Frustrations, depressions and despair had all plagued him but he was determined not to give up. He had taken the task to heart, often referring to it as his ‘baby’. A ‘calling’ he’d said when his fellow Americans inquired about his undertaking. Even when Aspen started voicing his reservations he would hear none of it.

There he was now on a sunny Monday morning wondering where his foreman was. This was the second time he had been late that week. Finding good help in these parts of the world had proved to be an uphill task. Few of the locals had basic education; most of them didn’t even understand English and would occasionally laugh at him whenever he spoke because he had a heavy Southern accent. Therefore a translator was required. That was the foreman who had now decided to take an un-official holiday. He looked at the handy men who had already reported for work and wondered how he was going to communicate with them. The local language had proved hard for him to understand.

He smiled at the irony of it all; The Americans were amused at how the locals couldn’t understand English while they themselves couldn’t grasp even the simple words in the local languages.

As he sat under the tree waiting for his foreman feelings of nostalgia overwhelmed him and he started remembering the first days in Katmandu village.

Together with Aspen, his wife and a team of other people mostly doctors they had gotten a king’s welcome when they had arrived. They were seen as ‘liberators’ who would free the locals from the shackles of poverty, ignorance and disease.

With gusto they had embarked on their mission. Aspen and his fellow doctors treating the sick in a makeshift tent as they waited for Dunhill to lay the ground work for their clinic.

It was during this construction that Dunhill realized that the locals needed more than just a clinic. They didn’t have adequate water supply, schools, and a place for worship among other things. It was then that Dunhill began his ambitious project that would make him forget the luxuries of his American life and embrace life in a third world country.

What he had not expected were reservations from the people whom the projects were expected to help. The people seemed to have resigned their misfortune to fate. They saw no good could come from their surroundings. He always wondered why a people with such a rich culture and heritage could not envision a better version of themselves. Phrases like ‘No hurry in Africa’, Am ‘on African time,’ took him to a state of depression. If something was a little hard they dismissed it as impossible. They never wanted to go the extra mile and instead of seeing him as a partner, they saw him like a mini-god.

Even when he taught them simple tasks they would perform them well but be unable to do them when he was away.

‘Are you an African or an Africant,’ he shouted at one of the workers who could not do a simple task on the pretext that only a white man had the ability. An ‘africant’ was a name he had coined for the locals who never wanted to be innovative. Never being a bigot at any time in his life, he believed that an African could do any anything that a white man could do. His views differed sharply with those of his fellow Americans who felt that the ‘black’ man inferior to the white man.
It was at this time that he realized that the locals would have to be empowered in their way of thinking before they could achieve any other progress.

He then started on an apprenticeship where he taught the locals basic skills in Civil Engineering. Slowly their mentality had started to change but many lacked the confidence of handling work by themselves.

“Boss, boss, am back”, the thundering voice of his foreman interrupted his thoughts. He was standing next to him holding a spanner and with a sheepish smile across his face.

“Where were you,” he asked, waiting for the usual lame excuses.

“Mrs. Johnston had a broken water pump and I had gone to fix it”, he replied.

It was then Dunhill realized all he was doing was not in vain. They were now Africans!

© Oscar gee ng’ang’a.