It was my last year of college, actually my last semester. It was to be a different year for me. As an optimist, it looked promising. I had a trip to Tanzania to organize for our graduating class, I had a paper for a conference to write, I had a paper for a conference to present, I had a school to train for Drama Festivals, I had a training to attend in Equatorial Guinea, I had a conference to attend in Nairobi, I had…. OK not all of that was apparent at that wee hour of the morning, but most of it was. It was totally my year and I was going to rock it.
So for the first time, I broke away from the norm and made actual and practical resolutions. I never went for the classic resolutions: to write a book, climb a mountain, learn a foreign language, enjoy life more (what the hell!), and visit relatives’ bla bla bla. No, I chose to be philosophical, to be earthy, and to be me.
This is what I typed in that particular Nokia 2630 Classic which those goons helped themselves with. I like to think that phone was my New Year’s gift to them. It’s amazing, considering the time and place, I still remember all the resolutions... Ok most: Get a girlfriend; write her sweet notes, text her lovey dovey texts. This was important for my future political career. I knew it would pay off later. I promised to be nice to people, especially ladies. Again, for my political prospects I needed this. It was not that they were to be my support base or I was not nice at the moment; no I wanted to practice early in life.
This was my last year in college, I needed to study hard. I have been studying all along, but my people have a saying that the pot usually breaks at the door. I wanted a first class degree, because I wanted a car. I had made a pact with my parents, with my siblings being witnesses, that if I get a first class degree I am getting a new ride.
It isn’t cool, I wrote, not to have money in the pocket or at the bank. Ok HELB gave me some coins that were not enough by the way, I needed more. Despite the fact I never used that money to pay school or accommodation fees. Here is why: While I was about to sit my national examinations in 2005, I made a pact (again) with my parents. If I qualify to the university, they are paying for everything, including my semester shopping and the government loan was all mine to impress women and enjoy life. I held my end of the bargain, they did too. But my ambitions were higher. So in 2011, I promised myself to have at least 4 very close friends who can lend me an incredible amount of cash without having to know why I need it. It was business, I reasoned.
For my political career and safe survival once out of the university, I needed new and powerful contacts that would come to my rescue without having to call my parents. Reading Robert Greene’s ’48 Laws of Power’ taught me the power of the right people at the right time. I must know at least one of each of the following, and on very good and personal terms. A senior police officer, the local chief, a magistrate, a lawyer, a doctor, a proprietor of a good bar, someone who works for customs and or immigration. A police officer would come in handy if I get arrested most probably at night while out clubbing. Also if a close friend is in trouble. All politics is local, never underestimate the local chief. His services would come in handy during government activities. He is the man to watch. The magistrate was incase my lawyer friend fails to get me out of trouble. In politics you have to look at all angles. A good doctor is obvious and more so if I contract such ailments that my parents needed not to know. A bar owner was necessary if I am to treat my local boys with the usual and am low on cash. My book needed to be open. Someone in customs and immigration were necessary for reasons best left unsaid. This is Kenya and yes you have to do what you have to do.
Finally, I had to be true to myself. I can’t make everyone happy, I can’t live for anyone, not even Dad, Mum or my siblings. One final resolution: God is important. I won’t live forever. One day I will have to justify my life to Him. Well this last resolution has been constant in my annual resolutions for as long I can remember. And I have been doing well so far.
So on this chilly and drizzling evening seated at the counter of Tanagers restaurant chatting up the Chinese (or Thai, I can’t tell) owner, I look back at the year past. Indeed it has been a great year, totally my year. The highlights were the contacts I got and still retain.
I was friends and still am good friends with a very senior police officer. Funny story how we met. My elder was nabbed for ‘aimless loitering at ungodly hours’ and my Dad and I had gone to bail him out the next morning. Apparently the swoop was ordered by the Officer Commanding Station (OCS) and he supervised it himself never mind at such ungodly hours. He was new in town. So we had to go to his office. He ordered my Frank, my brother, to be brought to his office and started lecturing him on how irresponsible it is to walk at night. I thought he meant dangerous but I never dared ask. My Dad naturally sided with the officer and even suggested caning my brother. The officer asked who I was and if am in school. I told him Frank’s follower brother and am in the university. His face lit up and asked which university. Moi University, I said. He stood up smiling while asking which campus. I told him and the rest they say is history. Apparently his daughter had been admitted to my university and being new in town he wished to know someone who would guide he daughter in the harsh life that is the university. ‘Guiding’ her I did. We became friends since. I have never been arrested while at home and neither of my friends has. One time my younger brother’s friends were home and they got arrested. I was not home, I cannot remember where. Brian called me and told me of the situation. Being at night, I could not call the OCS but I called Linda, her daughter. As expected they were released in the morning. Let them have a jail experience for the night, father told daughter who told me. Every time I am home we meet over drinks. Despite my parent’s objection, he was the only ‘family friend’ who attended my graduation. I am serious about networks you know.
The local chief is always on my speed dial. How I met him I cannot recall. But we are friends.
I have several lawyer friends who double up as childhood or simply hood friends. But I was not too particular about them. I do not trust friends too much. Trust everyone only so much. Only get betrayed once, Daddy tells me always. So I have a few lawyers on my side. A very wise man once said good lawyers know the law but only great lawyers know the judge. I will be smarter if I knew a magistrate or too. I met the local magistrate at a party I was invited by the OCS in May. The officer’s eldest son was flying out of the country for further studies. Justice John Omondi was his name. A very dignified fellow. After the party, the seniors retreated to the local club for a few drinks. Since a magistrate was among them, how could I miss the opportunity? Justice Ochieng, I knew would be a great friend once we engaged in a conversation on the judicial system in Kenya. Plus he had my taste of drinks too: Gin and Tonic on the rocks and a dash of lemon. Let’s just say the good Justice liked to have a drink while engaging in an intellectual conversation. I supplied both, and still do. The lawyer and magistrate have not been useful so far. I have not been involved in any crime or felony. I am hoping not be in one but I feel secure knowing am covered.
I have a doctor friend and for obvious reasons. I am in the good books of a few local bar owners. They have both come in handy and so far so good.
I got a guy, actually guys, who worked in the customs and immigration during the Tanzania trip. It was not easy though. We arrived at the border at 11 am and we could have crossed had it not been for the fact that we did not have Yellow Fever certificates and it was a public holiday. I had mine, thanks to my doctor friend and a few of us had them but majority did not. The alternative was to sleep at the border and get the injection and certificate at 8 am in the morning, the guy behind the counter advised us. Hospitals do not open during holidays. We had to wait. At noon his shift ended and while preparing to leave we asked him of a nice pub we could hang out, drink a little, watch football reruns and maybe dance. We had the whole day and night at the border. His face lit up, probably thinking that he could get a few beers from college boys. He was right on that. He knew a great place, he said. He would take us. So we went and though it was not a great place, it was fine: cheap Tanzanian beer, great taraab music and bewitching beauties on the dance floor and during the day! My friends got enchanted by them and off they scurried to the dance floor. I had a resolution to accomplish. I ordered beer for all of us. It was 1500 Tanzanian shillings. That was 75 Kenyan shillings, half the price in Kenya. We actually reserved a waiter for our table. We had money after all we were Kenyans.
We drank beer, talked over things I cannot remember and danced. Benard, the customs guy, was a great talker and dancer too. Looking at him at the dance floor I imagined it must have been long since he danced. Well he was married, he had commitments I assumed. At around 2 pm, three guys with suits came into the bar and set next to us. Judging by their demeanor, they were Kenyans and were important people. They ordered Tusker, a Kenyan beer and I smiled to myself. I was seated with my back at them and being drunk I felt I needed to chat up the guys. I was Kenyan too. You should try Kilimanjaro, Tanzanian beer, I told them. It dances seductively in the mouth and has a crispy taste, I added intentionally. They smiled and the big one asked how much it was. Great start, I thought and told them the price. He chuckled. I called over our waiter and told her to bring these guys a round of Kilimanjaro on our tab and to cancel the other one they had placed. I expected them to object but they did not.
My friends came over and I introduced them to the men in suits. Then Benard came from the rest room and he froze when he saw the guys. He knew them but they did not obviously know him and he refused to sit down. He excused himself and left after I took his number. Then I had no idea why. The men did not even notice him and they liked the beer too so Benard was forgotten. The bigger one, and richer judging by his rotund face and gold ring on his finger, suggested we sit on the same table asked what we were doing in a bar. I explained our situation and they nodded and looked at themselves. Why you haven’t been vaccinated, the bald one asked. Yellow Fever is a serious ailment, he added. Actually we have been vaccinated but we do not have the certificates to show, I lied. No need to be honest about everything. How, the bigger one asked. Taking cue from my lie Joseph picked it up, as a University rule, we cannot be admitted without being vaccinated for Yellow Fever, Measles, Chicken Pox and all those. So yes we have been vaccinated but we have not been given the certificate, he finished. The bald guy nodded. That is true, he said, my son was admitted to Kenyatta University and he too was vaccinated in school. The bigger one just nodded. The other guy smiled and asked if we can verify that. We had a university doctor in our entourage, which was the rule too. They all nodded.
We ordered for more drinks and chatted over the Kenyan constitution, the politicians and the economy. They asked about why we like to stone cars whenever we strike and we told them we were extending the tradition they started. They laughed. The other guy who had remained silent all along laughed the more and said he remembers stoning a few cars himself. We laughed again and ordered more beer.
At around 4 pm the bigger guy asked if we have a place to sleep. We laughed. We are college students, we will sleep in the bus, I said. They laughed too, they have done it before. The bigger one asked if we knew who they were. We said no. Apparently they were senior immigration officials from Nairobi who were part of an advance team that was waiting for the Minister of Immigration who is to open a new office. I read that in the papers I told them. He asked if we would like to continue with our journey….
To cut a long story short, 30 minutes later, 3 short calls on their part, frantic calls on our part to locate the rest of the students, and 3 business cards in my wallet we were well on our way to Arusha drunk but happy. They picked our bills too. The bigger guy, Mr. Omondi is the Chief Immigration Officer, Mr. Koech the bald guy is the Assistant Chief Immigration Officer and Mr. Kazungu is the Principal Immigration Officer (East Africa Region). What more could a soon to be university graduate ask.Never mind we became instant heroes while in the bus.
So yes I have achieved most of my resolutions, some I did not through no fault of my own. Take the example of the pact I had with my folks. I held my end of the bargain and got a first class degree. Need I say my parents did not! Apparently the economy is not doing pretty well. So I do not have a car not because of my fault or my parent’s. It was because of the Government. I blame the government! Another example was my desire to get a girlfriend and shower her with little sweet notes and texts. I got a girlfriend all right, though it never worked out. For some reason, she thought the sweet notes were creepy and girly. Look at the irony. Here I was trying to be William Levy and all not because I believed it but because I had to accomplish my goal but she rebuffed me. At least I tried. I don’t blame myself, I blame her. She had me and she could not handle me. On the other goal of being nice to ladies, well the jury is still out. I am not saying am not popular with the opposite sex, au contraire. I was in the drama and music team in high school, which explains everything.
2011 is going down in 16 days time. I am to write new resolutions again. Hopefully I have 16 days to go. I want to spend these days to reflect on my past year.
Yes I have done crazy things, which had it not been for my friends I would never have done them. I do not regret for they made me smile. Like taking an acquaintance’s car and driving all night with friends while she was asleep (How she trusted us, gave us her car and requested us to drive her home because she was drunk I have no idea) and returning it in the morning; crashing into a wedding pretending we were the groom’s party just for the food; Harassing motorists while on a college outing; staying up all night drinking then calling random guys in the hostels with threatening messages. They were stupid but fun. One guy actually offered to send us money if we do not tell her girlfriend that he was cheating on her.
The year has been kind to me. God indeed has been good to me. I have no reason to complain. Oh well I do not have a car but what the f**k. Sorry God!
I will meet Nyambane again while writing my 2012 New Year resolutions while seated with my brother Brian, his friend Victor and my friend Beverly at a private booth in Lisbon club in Kisii town.
Eddie Ombagi
