Fools’ Express
Coach 2
Charles O. Okoth
Fools’ Express, Coach 2
Published in 2022 by Queenex Publishers Ltd
P.O Box 56049-00200, Nairobi, Kenya.
Phone: 0727 794 498, 0715 808 200
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Web: www.queenexpublishers.co.ke
© Charles O. Okoth, 2022
All rights reserved. Do not reproduce, store in a
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Queenex Publishers Limited.
ISBN: 978-9966-142-04-7
1
1. The Arrest
“You are now under arrest!” the tall police
ofcer barked, his big eyes popping out as
if trying to reach out to his victims. His face
seemed to say, almost audibly, that he was not
joking with anybody, and, given the merest
provocation, would kill gladly. “Now, out of
my own good heart and religious nature, may
I caution both of you: whatever you say from
now on may be used as evidence against you, in
a court of Law. That means that from now on,
just you be careful with your unshapely beaks.”
The objects of this barking were two
frightened looking young men, who, by the
look of them, were as the biblical sheep heading
for the slaughter. They were all shaky, wobbly
and ushed, with clearly visible goose pimples,
giving them an unsightly look.
2
Wanga Osule and Odongo Mukavi, looked sad...
3
According to the harsh-looking police ofcer,
they had been arrested for serious crimes they
had committed over a period of two months.
The law, the policeman declared to them, was
like a French football defender, who could not
be dodged easily.
“It is terribly insulting that cheap crooks like
you could imagine you can dodge me, pass and
score, using your cheap tricks. Now, I have got
you, and you are going to see the exact size of
your blunder when we reach the station. I tell
you, I will show you dust!”
None of them said anything. Instead, they just
stared at each other, as if they were in shock. They
seemed not to believe that this was happening
to them. They were surprised that in spite of
taking thorough precautions as they went about
their lawless acts, they were now under arrest,
at last. Truly is it said that the arm of the law is
long and will always catch up with those who
break its master, the Law.
The two criminals, Wanga Osule and Odongo
Mukavi, looked sad indeed. They had never
pictured this sort of thing happening to them.
4
Therefore, they did not know how to act, what
to say, what to do, and even what to imagine!
But of the two, Odongo seemed to be in
the lesser shock. An observer could clearly see
he was the more hardened criminal; but that
observation would be far from the mark. The
fact was just that he had far less to lose, if ever
he went to jail, than his friend.
“There is always hope,” Odongo whispered
to his friend, as they were being led away.
“Remember, prisons and police cells were built
for men. So, if you are a real man, you should not
be frightened that you are going there. People
go to those places and come out alive. So relax,
my brother. You are not the rst one; neither
will you be the last!”
Wanga, who was being thus comforted, like
a baby, did not appear to be listening. He was
thinking deeply. Horrible, nightmarish scenes
presented themselves to him: scenes of what
could happen or not happen if ever the worst
happened, and he was taken to jail. In fact, if
Odongo would have known what those thoughts
were, he would not have bothered to try and
5
comfort him. A cornered animal does not merely
need to be comforted. Rather, it needs to be
shown how to kick and maul and snarl its way
out of the trap.
Wanga lived in the small township of Shibale.
He had married his wife, Khatienje, some two
years back, and they already had two small
boys: Johnnie Stonnie Lugaku and Rian Kiggs
Brighton. He was a wonderful dotting father to
his sons, both of whom he hoped would become
professional footballers in a major European
league. So he could not imagine them starving
as he rotted in prison. No wonder he did not
wish to go to the police cells.
And no wonder he did not want to be
comforted like a baby. He just did not want to
imagine what it would be like for his young
family when he was away.
But he had to go to the cells. He had done
something that called for his presence there.
It had thus become necessary for the police to
look for him to ensure that he answered to the
call of justice.
6
After much dodging and hiding, the police
had eventually caught up with him and were now
taking him there, together with his accomplice,
Odongo.
Apart from being a partner in crime, Odongo
was also Wanga’s cousin. There is some truth,
it seems, in the saying that some careers run in
the blood. That is why some families are good
at certain jobs.
As if to emphasize the closeness of their
relationship, in blood and in ‘career’, the two
were enjoined at the hands by strong pieces and
strips of metal, which had things that looked
like padlocks on them. The padlocks had been
locked with much snapping and clinking. As if
that was not enough, a sizeable chain connected
their ankles, making them look and sound like a
pair of practising traditional dancers, for every
step they took.
7
2. The Crimes – And the Victims
So, what had he done, this married man of
close to two score and ve years, and his cousin
of almost the same age? What had made it
necessary for the police and prison cells to open
their mouths longingly as they nodded in their
direction?
He was, simply put, a man who loved
surviving on the sweat of others. His trade was
very simple and needed no initial capital to
start off successfully, the way we are told some
businesses do.
In fact, the only capital needed was a ashy
overused suit, a sweet tongue that was smoother
than cotton wool dipped in warm oil and rinsed
in pure honey, and a mouth full of words which
could lull an angry lioness to slumber, as her
cubs were taken over by a hyena.
In effect, the business consisted mainly of
making ‘fools’ part with their hard-earned cash.
8
The ‘goodness’ with him is that he did it with
such a degree of craftiness that the victims only
discovered too late that they had been robbed.
Some of the victims never even discovered
that! There were even those who took it upon
themselves to thank the man for what he had
done – stealing from them. These were those
who thought the man had done them a favour.
However, some victims had found them out
and reported the matter to the police. A hunt
had been mounted, and nally, the men had
been caught. Three of the men they had stolen
from were also right there, helping the police to
escort them to their new ‘residence’.
Even as he went along, chained heavily,
Wanga could not help remembering some of
his wicked exploits.
There was Wanyonyi, to whom he had
sold a cruel, protesting fox, lying that it was an
English bull dog. The animal had indeed been
unique: its teeth and claws were truly out of
Africa, so clearly, it could not be an African dog.
Unfortunately, the ‘dog’ had ended up digging
its fangs deep into Wanyonyi’s hand and eeing
9
back into the forest before he could even blink a
few times in admiration and wonder. Therefore,
Wanyonyi’s desire to own an English bull dog
had come to nought.
Then there was Abukusi, the businessman
from the town of Kilimimi. Wanga had found
him at Shibale, searching for sugar to sell in
Kilimimi.
It was the time when sugar was very scarce.
The sugar factory around Shibale had been closed
for maintenance, meaning there was no sugar
in its stores to sell to consumers. The little sugar
that companies had been allowed to import
could not cater for the needs of the consumers,
especially when crafty, greedy traders took the
opportunity to make a big kill by hoarding the
commodity.
Abukusi had heard that it was possible to get
some sugar at Shibale. Most of that was from the
so-called ‘black market’, meaning it was being
bought and sold illegally, from wherever the
dealers were getting it. Thus when Abukusi
had bumped into Wanga and made his case,
Wanga had thought very fast and had managed
10
to secure and sell him urea, instead of sugar.
He had called the urea ‘imported ‘suger’’. As it
was past the planting season, he had managed
to get the urea from Wanyonyi, the farmer who
wanted to dispose of it at a throwaway price.
After all, he had nowhere to keep it. After selling
it to Abukusi, he had made a prot of almost
forty thousand shillings!
The funniest case, however, was when he sold
sugarcane belonging to a sugar company! Being
a resident of Shibale, he admired the sugarcane
that had been planted by the sugar company
in what was called the Nucleus Estate. It was
fantastic indeed; so healthy and beautiful! For
Wanga, it was so much so that he wondered if
he couldn’t gain from such beauty.
So it happened that one day, he made up his
mind to try his hand at it. He intended to use
Odongo to convince some rustics that he was
the owner of the Nucleus Estate sugarcane!
The man who fell for this trick was called
Nabukhamba. Indeed, he offered to pay to lease
some of the cane. Using his gift of trickery,
Wanga agreed, and made a killing of close to
11
sixty thousand shillings!
Thus did he live. He enjoyed his ‘job’
immensely. It did not involve any hard physical
work, even if one had to really engage the brain.
And it was very protable!
To make it even better, nobody came to
him demanding for his proof of income tax
compliance, or proffering forms on which he was
required to declare his poverty. In fact, Wanga
did not have such things as KRA P.I.N.s and
clearance certicates, all of which he felt were
very bad for his trade as a conman.
The three men from whom he had stolen,
being law-abiding and God-fearing patriots,
had reported their losses to His Excellency’s
police service. The resulting manhunt had netted
Wanga and Odongo, right in the house of the
former.
As a respectably married man, and a father
of two, no less, Wanga had felt very much
embarrassed and inconvenienced. Luckily for
him, his wife and her pretty, bright-eyed sister,
Feyi, who stayed with them, had been out
shopping at the time the police had come calling.
12
The victims, who had been with the police
all along, were even now accompanying them
to the station, as the two criminals dragged their
heavy metals along.
As they moved on, some villagers followed,
wondering what Wanga and Odongo had
done. Wanyonyi, following the police ofcers’
instructions, was at hand to explain to them in
some detail what this was all about. He knew that
if he mentioned the word ‘thief’, he would have
killed Wanga; for a mob would quickly gather
and snatch them from the police for lynching.
But Wanga’s worst fear was that his wife,
Khatienje, and sister-in-law, Feyi, would
suddenly surface and see him being marched
along in such an undignied manner. Wanga
knew her well enough to know that that would
be the end of their marriage.
13
3. Abukusi’s Revenge Plan
So it came to pass that the two criminals
headed to the ‘House for the Criminally Inclined’
(as the policemen were calling it). They went
sweating and panting, for they were being made
to trot along most of the time.
The chain that connected them was made of
heavy pieces of metal. In fact, Wanga wished
that it could be used better: to tether elephants or
buffalos which ruined people’s crops at Shibale
and elsewhere. He felt it was being wasted
on such a thin fellow as him and people like
Odongo, who would probably only compete a
tortoise in the shorter races, and even lose. What
a waste of public resources, he thought bitterly.
He could not help cursing the police. The
cowards, as he thought of them, were escorting
them along as they cracked wicked jokes about
their female relatives. They had looked at
Odongo and quickly assigned him a certain
14
very short girl, who resided around those parts.
The girl was called Maggy Bwibo Sinia. Though
fully mature (some said she was twenty years
old), she was only two feet tall. She was blacker
than the outside of an overused cooking pot. She
was also somewhat deformed; bow-legged, and
with a mouth that was where one cheek should
have been. A few of her teeth peeped uncertainly
from her naturally mutilated nose.
But it was her accent which beat all else.
When she talked, you would be forgiven for
imagining an English woman was talking in
perfect Kiwanga, the local dialect; she had a
wonderful English accent, for her deformity
made her talk through the nose! That was how
she had acquired her other name: Maggy Thatcher.
Needless to say, Odongo was not happy
with the match. He knew and hated Bwibo.
The girl had a very sharp tongue, and was very
competent when it came to hurling abuse at the
likes of Odongo, who she did not like.
Yet when Wanyonyi suggested her as
Odongo’s ‘tarling’ (darling), as he put it, one
policeman warned him that he would have to
15
stop insulting Maggy, or face the full force of the
Law. It was not to be expected, the ofcer pointed
out, that Maggy Sinia would be denied the right
of choice. Who knew, he said; perhaps Maggy
would feel insulted by Odongo’s advances,
assuming he was man enough to make them, and
she would run away very fast from such a thug.
When Wanyonyi told them that Wanga was
actually married, they laughed loudly.
“What sort of a woman would go for such a
cheap crook?” Abukusi asked. “She must be a
close relative of the one you are calling Maggy;
the one with teeth in her nose.”
“She is actually quite pretty,” Wanyonyi said.
“Are you sure?” Abukusi asked.
“I am,” Wanyonyi said. “I know her.”
“Then,” Abukusi said, stopping and showing
signs of thinking deeply, “I am going back to
that house. Let me take photos of these two. I
intend to show the woman the photos. I believe
she has a right to know the sort of husband she
has. She can then make certain decisions, based
on her ndings. Ofcer, please stop them.”
16
Wanga protested loudly, trying to turn away
from the camera, and even going as far as trying
to lie down, but they managed to hold him
upright. Abukusi, using his phone camera, took
the photos. He even took a video clip, showing
Wanga howling and struggling against four
men; two of them armed police ofcers in full
uniform. That was even more incriminating than
the still photos.
Even worse, Odongo, who was well-known
to Khatienje, Wanga’s wife, ruined Wanga’s
efforts by cooperating fully, his mouth wide
open in a merry grin.
Having taken the photos, Abukusi requested
all of them, including Wanga, to wish him good
luck in his new adventure with the woman.
Odongo profusely gave his blessings and assured
Abukusi that he would succeed perfectly.
“I know the ki-girl,” he said, looking at
Abukusi with a wink. “You can’t go wrong
where that one is concerned. Just remember
to buy a bottle of soda and some bottled water
and take them along. She will start smiling very
stupidly as she looks at you, pretending to be
17
very shy. I tell you, some bush girls are queer.
I suspect that sodas and bottled water have not
reached that girl’s village!”
They all laughed, wondering what the real
relationship between the two crooks was. If
they were closely related, and friends to boot,
how could Odongo say such things about the
woman? Wanga was looking at Odongo as if he
could willingly swallow him.
18
4. Odongo’s Plan
In spite of whatever feelings Wanga had,
Abukusi started going back along the road they
had come. He knew the house and hoped to
get there and avenge the dirty trick Wanga had
played on him.
As Wanga watched him go, he started crying
like a baby.
“No! Oh no! Please! Please, ofcer,” he
pleaded, kneeling on the hard tarmac. “Please,
let me talk to that man. Allow me to negotiate
with him, my brothers! Let me discuss how I can
repay him his money, good ofcers! You are men
and you understand these things. It is my wife
we are talking about here. She is the mother of
my two children, ofcers. Please understand my
feelings. Call him back! I will give anything to be
allowed to talk to that man. Hello my brother!
Hello...!”
19
“No! Oh no! Please! Please, ofcer...”
20
Despite Wanga’s pleas, Abukusi just
continued on his way without looking back,
waving merrily as he went. Probably if he had
known the mortal fear Wanga had, he would
have been more sympathetic. Wanga knew that if
those photos reached his wife, he would lose her.
The idea of her discovering that she had
been dealing with a criminal all this time was
unthinkable. It would ruin Wanga completely.
Word would reach his in-laws that he was in
fact a criminal, instead of a boss in the nearby
sugar company, as he had made them believe.
He did not want to imagine the repercussions
of Abukusi’s meeting with his wife.
The others saw his plight and laughed
derisively. None of them showed him any pity,
for he had caused them a lot of suffering. Even
Odongo was looking at him as if he were some
form of manure.
The victims felt that Wanga should be very
grateful that they had not offered him to a mob,
who would have made short work of him, as
they administered their own form of justice. If a
mob knew what the man had done, he would be
21
worrying about his life instead of the secondary
worry of losing a wife.
The young police ofcer told him as much.
He, the ofcer, reminded him that he had lost
some rights as of then. He was under the law;
the one forbidding criminal activities. So, all
Wanga could do was watch Abukusi go off to
Shibale – to see his wife.
The biggest laughter, however, came from
Odongo. When he saw his friend and cousin
cry, he thought it very funny. He immediately
forgot his own problems, and roared and howled
with mirth. He also thought it was the moment
to practise his wild jokes on the man.
“I never knew I would ever see you cry,”
he howled. “My God, this is a great day – of
miracles! I would have sworn you had a heart
of stone; assuming you have any heart at all. I
can’t also imagine that you actually have tear
glands! I thought they were mere shrivelled
pieces of plastic tissue by now. What is annoying
you? Where you are going, you won’t need your
so-called wife. Let that man go and look after
her and probably give her healthy kids for a
22
change. Be man enough and face the reality: you
are going to prison; and for very serious crimes
against humanity.”
Odongo, who was semi-literate, happened
to know that expression, which had become very
famous in the media, due to some reason which
this relater of history will leave unmentioned,
by reason of his weed-grown memory.
Even the policemen could not help laughing.
This short man, of no great beauty, certainly had
wit. He also did not seem to bother that the man
he was talking about was right there, tied onto
him by a metal link. He was not even worried
that Wanga was looking at him angrily. Indeed,
Wanga’s chest swelled and contracted with anger
as he breathed. Yet Odongo was grinning from
ear to ear, very happy with the effect his words
were having on Wanga and the others.
“You seem to know very well that this man
is a criminal?” one ofcer commented.
“Who doesn’t?” Odongo responded, opening
his big eyes widely, shocked that some people
could be so ignorant. “Where do you people
come from, very far from here? This person is
23
known all over this place for his conning ways. I
am sure somebody will write a book about him
some day, telling the world how he has conned
so many, and describing the several methods he
has used. He is horrible, I tell you,” Odongo said,
opening his huge mouth and eyes, and leaning
as far away from Wanga as possible. It was as
if he feared the man he was tied to could infect
him with ‘criminal leprosy’.
“I am wondering how he has managed to stay
out of prison for this long. It is like an animal
being forced to stay away from its own natural
environment.”
Wanga looked at him, horried. The man
was talking as if he really believed what he was
saying. He knew that if Odongo continued this
way, he would have him thrown in prison. It
was as if he was turning into a state witness.
However, as Wanga stared into the unseemly
face, he saw a wink. It was an almost unnoticeable
slight lifting of the eyelid and tightening of the
muscles covering the eye, and he instantly knew
that all was not lost. He now realized that his
friend had some plan that could result into
24
something happening for their mutual benet.
“Wonderful!” the senior of the police ofcers
exclaimed, winking at his junior. This was going
to be ne. If the short crook would cooperate
fully, they would have an airtight case against
Wanga. “You say he is dangerous, ha? Will
you tell us some things about him?” the ofcer
prodded Odongo.
“I can write ten great books about him and
his criminal activities!” Odongo responded
excitedly. “And anybody reading even a few
sentences in any of those books would send
him to jail for life. You have arrested a big thief
today. This is a great day for Shibale!”
Again, the police ofcer winked at his junior.
In the police force, it was known that
promotion came through such things. An
ofcer always hoped to strike a jackpot – as
far as arresting criminals was concerned. The
more notorious the criminal arrested, the better
the prospects of promotion. The senior ofcer
was already seeing shiny clinking pieces of
metal being attached onto his breast pocket –
hopefully by a very senior person high up in the
25
government. He saw himself saluting gratefully.
That was what made the job of a police ofcer
attractive; so much so that one could never care
about the dangers involved. If what Odongo
was saying was true…
The senior ofcer went over to the pair and
unlocked the chain, removing the load from
Odongo and heaping all of it on Wanga. The
handcuffs were also unlocked and the bit from
Odongo used for enjoining Wanga’s hands.
“Is that better?” he asked. Odongo looked at
him gratefully, folding and unfolding his sts.
“Yes, this is far better, Ofcer,” he said. He
then pressed his tortured ngers and pulled
them till they noisily snapped back into position.
“This is so nice, my hands being free; and my
feet too; they were starting to develop blisters.
However, the best thing is that I am now far
from that crook, whose smell alone can cause a
vulture to vomit.”
As if at the thought of the horrible smell,
Odongo growled, opening his big eyes and
folding his nose into a huge black bunch, to
show disgust. Only two tiny black holes showed
26
it was still a human nose.
The whole group almost collapsed in a body,
thinking about smell such as could cause a
vulture’s crop and gizzard to rebel. No rotting
carcase ever did that successfully.
“Woi! Woi!” shouted Nabukhamba, laughing
hysterically. “What sort of smell can that be?
What does he reek of?”
“It is the smell of something horribly rotten
rotting again,” Odongo explained, looking at
Wanga as if the mentioned smell was gaining
in intensity even as he talked. “However, what
people don’t know is that his heart and mind
are even more rotten than his skin and teeth.
His ideas and feelings are actually dead. With
him here, enough poisonous gas is released
from his mind and body to signicantly add to
global warming!”
“Stop! Please man, I beg you to stop,”
Nabukhamba said, holding up his hands. To
him, more than to the others, the jokes seemed
to be especially juicy. “You will kill me. I already
have a clear picture of him as a criminal, man;
but you are making it even uglier! Wah! Please,
27
let me nish laughing at the present set of jokes
before you release others!”
The whole group had stopped, all attention
given to Odongo. They were having a good
laugh as the joker entertained them.
Yet even as they laughed, Odongo’s mind
was working in overdrive. Already, an idea was
developing. All that remained was to update
Wanga.
As usually happened, any small idea he came
up with quickly blossomed into a perfect scheme
soon after it reached Wanga’s ear. Odongo was
quite condent that they would not sleep in the
police cells if what he had in mind worked. He
knew that just one minute with Wanga would
be enough for him to update the sly man about
the plan.
With his lips barely moving, he whispered
something to Wanga. If the ofcers had not
been so busy laughing like hyenas, they
would have noticed this momentary lull in the
enmity between the two, with the short man
unnecessarily moving towards the subject of
his lousy jokes.
28
By the time they reached the station, Odongo
and the ofcers seemed to be the closest of
friends. Odongo wanted to use that closeness to
help his friend, whose mind was also working
in overdrive now.
The ofcers, relaxing their guard a bit,
allowed the two to use the pit latrine behind the
cells, in the fenced off area where criminals under
their watch were allowed to exercise and bask
in the sun. To them, that was a small request,
which they granted to Odongo, who expressed
how pressed he was. Wanga was a beneciary
of Odongo’s good standing with the ofcers.
They allowed them ve minutes. That was all
the time they needed to sew up everything.
29
5. A Criminal’s Tricky Plan
They came back to the report ofce the
bitterest of enemies, for they were quarrelling
hotly.
“I will do nothing for you!” Wanga was
hissing. “Not after you have betrayed me. I
would rather go to jail than help you.”
Odongo laughed derisively.
“You!” he shouted, looking at him as if he
were rubbish. “You are not thinking. You know
I have nothing to lose; but you could still save
your family if you took my advice. Otherwise
they will end up at Kilimimi, in the hands of your
co-husband. I personally want to go to jail to see
what it looks like from inside. How about you,
with your wife who gives birth day and night?”
“Shut up, Odongo!” Wanga said, looking at
him angrily. “Just shut up! One day I will have
to discipline you over what you are saying now.
The more rubbish you talk, the harder I will
discipline you.”
30
“You can do nothing, you good-for-nothing.”
31
“Where will you get me, you prisoner?”
Odongo asked, laughing heartily. “I don’t expect
to be in the same prison as you. Everybody
should see that. I cannot do the things you have
done. Moreover, I can get you nailed for a very
long time, my friend.”
“You can do nothing, you good-for-nothing.”
Wanga retorted.
“Are you sure?” Odongo laughed. “You are
desperate, I see. I know a lot about you and I can
testify that you would be better off in a maximum
prison than anywhere else.”
“And what about you?” Wanga said, panting
with anger.
“Me? I have done nothing that could get me
such a long stretch, and you know it. But you!
I know so much about you that if you had any
sense, you would be begging me to spare you,
instead of showing such a lack of respect for
me. Think carefully before you open your beak
while looking in my direction!”
“Can both of you keep quiet!” a police ofcer
shouted. “You don’t seem to understand that
you are under the law. You can’t quarrel here.
32
If you continue this way, we will be forced to
lock you up in a water bath.”
“What is it?” the senior ofcer asked. “Do
you know I can arrest you afresh and charge you
with creating a disturbance in a police station?”
“I know,” Odongo said. “It is only that I am
trying to help this fellow, who of course doesn’t
know such things; and instead of seeing the
point quickly enough and even paying me for
expert advice, he starts yelling like the jobless
conman that he is. Ofcer, it is very hard to help
a hardened criminal, especially one who is not
clever.”
The police ofcers present and Wanga’s
victims again laughed derisively.
“Wooi!” Nabukhamba howled. “This man
should be sent to State House to be entertaining
the residents there!”
However, Wanga, who was the ‘loser’ in the
resulting laughing match, looked at Odongo as
if he would gladly knock off the mouth spewing
out jokes.
“Helping him in which way?” the ofcer
asked, still laughing. “Don’t you understand
33
that you are in the same boat? I want you to
write statements and go to the cells. We have a
reception party waiting: special lice and bedbugs.
They have been training on how to feast on
crooks. Part of the training is to fast for weeks
in preparation for a juicy meal. They will know
what to do with you, for they have their own
sergeants and corporals, as well as inspectors.”
34
6. A Walk in the Net
Odongo looked at his friend, his mouth open
and the big eyes full of sympathy.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he
asked the equally frightened Wanga. “Being
eaten alive by experienced lice and bedbugs for
a few days? Then going to prison for very many
years and leaving your young family, when you
have all that wealth you can dispose of and repay
these people whose property you have stolen?
Why are you so mean?”
The policeman looked at them, his eyes
opening up slowly by slowly, till they were
quite sizeable. His mouth followed suit. Various
thoughts came to his mind; some requiring a
calculator to conclude, while some needed verses
from the Bible. A lot of saliva gathered in his
mouth, forming a small pool there. He had to
swallow noisily before he could think coherently.
He looked at the two men sitting at the
35
other end of the room; the complainants. They
were waiting to see what the OCS (Ofcer
Commanding Station) would do about their case.
He made a quick decision.
“Get into that cell, the two of you,” he
ordered. “We don’t allow disturbances here.
I will start by teaching you how not to quarrel
in a police station. You are endangering state
security, especially you short fellow!” he said,
pointing at Odongo while uttering the last part
of his statement.
“Sir, forgive me,” Odongo said, displaying a
posture of humility. “I was only trying to help
this man. Two young children his wife has had,
in two years...”
“You idiot!” Wanga said, shaking his st at
him. “You think...”
“Shut up, you two!” the OCS said, moving
towards them menacingly. “I have already
cautioned you. Now I act. Get in there!”
He went over to them and pushed them into
one of the cells.
The two complainants clapped loudly as the
door was locked on the two champions of crime.
36
“Gooooal!” Wanyonyi shouted as the last bolt
was pushed into place. “Now they can suffer,
the way we have suffered.”
“Yes!” Nabukhamba said, laughing loudly
again. “Let the lice and bedbugs feast on them.
Let all my stolen money be sucked right out of
their bodies. All the same, I suspect that it will
take the rest of their stay in prison to clear my
money fully out of their system, assuming they
serve for at least ten years. Anyway, I wish the
joker was treated better...”
“Forget about that,” Wanyonyi put in. “That
man is his right hand man. Don’t be carried away
with those jokes. He is just trying to wriggle out
of trouble. But ofcer, how then shall we get
our money? When is the court going to give us
what we lost?”
“That is a complicated process,” the
policeman said, “In fact, if I may be very truthful,
you might end up getting nothing.”
“Don’t say that!” the two shouted in unison,
horried. The thought of losing all that money to
the crooks was unthinkable. They had thought
the court would simply order that some money
37
be given to them, even from the government.
“It is very likely,” the policeman said. “In
fact, people lose far more than that. I have known
people who have lost millions. Anyway, you
heard what the other crook said. If the main
crook, Wanga, has some property, the best would
be an out-of-court settlement.”
“Yes, I would prefer that,” Wanyonyi said.
“Actually, I know that fellow has a young
family.”
Nabukhamba was also in agreement and
they told the young OCS to talk to the crooks
and see what they had to say.
* * * *
Inside the cell, the two crooks, Wanga and
Odongo, feverishly nalized their plans.
Wanga, like most residents of the area near
the giant sugar factory, owned some sugarcane.
His cane was on a two-acre piece of land he had
rented from a local man, Wavwire Masevula. He
had documents showing he was a contracted
farmer of the sugar company.
38
Wanga and Odongo feverishly nalized their plans.
39
But one thing about him was that he never
spent money on his sugarcane farm. That was
too much of work, as far as he was concerned.
He always leased it out to people, even as early
as the third month after planting. Maintaining it
would then be their problem. That is what being
broke did to someone; especially a lazy person
whose head was full of thieving schemes.
One ‘mistake’ he never made, was to release
his contract documents to the ones he was dealing
with. That would make them the real owners of
the cane. Instead, he used his smooth tongue to
make them think that he was a very trustworthy
man and that they had nothing to worry about.
His plan was always to remain the only owner
of the cane.
Now, that type of cane was his only hope.
He could offer it to these people in exchange for
his freedom. It was near the factory, he would
point out. Well-maintained, it would bring about
three hundred thousand shillings per harvest.
That was far much more than what he owed
the people.
40
Yes, he would offer them the cane, and even
the contract, if need be. However, they would
be in for a shock when the cane was harvested.
As of now, he had already leased it out to four
different people, each of whom thought they
were the sole owners.
One was the principal of a local secondary
school; the school where his sister’s son was
learning. The other was a businessman in
Kakamega town. There was also a police ofcer
from Kisumu and a lawyer from Nairobi.
From all of them, Wanga had taken money,
promising that they would take all the proceeds
of the cane. The teacher and the lawyer had
paid for proceeds for three harvests, while the
policeman and businessman had paid for one
harvest each: the rst cutting.
Wanga had got the full condence of the four
victims, assuring them that the land was his and
that they had nothing to worry about. He had
given them photocopies of the contract, and
that was, as far as the victims were concerned,
enough of evidence. Now, if the present victims
fell for it, they would be the fth lot. Since the
41
land was not his and as he had only rented the
house he lived in at Shibale, it would be easy to
dupe the victims once more and shift to another
place, as far away from Shibale as possible.
The cane was due for harvesting in about two
weeks’ time, so the men were unlikely to object.
After all, the alternative was the one of losing all
their money, as Wanga was sent to prison. That
option was unlikely, especially if Wanga played
his game the way he was used to.
42
7. Deal Sealed
Some play-acting was necessary, all the same,
before committing himself. No need to show
eagerness. Otherwise, the fellows, passengers
in his famous train, ‘Fools’ Express’, would
suspect foul play and make many unreasonable
demands. However, if he played hard to get, as
it were, he could greatly increase his bargaining
power!
As the young OCS opened the door, with
much clinking and clanging of the bolts and
chains, he found the two in a hot quarrel.
“You try it, if you are a man,” Odongo was
saying. “But since you are not a man, I know
you won’t. You are lucky that you now have
the protection of the law.” He was looking at
Wanga angrily.
The policeman stood at the door, looking at
them menacingly.
43
“You are quarrelling again! Did you people
hear what I said?”
“I am not quarrelling,” Odongo declared. “It
is this man who is talking rubbish; but I don’t
blame him. Rubbish is his mother tongue. His
head is full of rubbish. If I am to answer, I would
have to dip my head in a rubbish pit for a whole
day to get to his level. I can’t say the things he
says, or even think the things he thinks.”
“Ofcer, please allow me just one minute to
discipline this rogue,” Wanga said, looking at
the policeman appealingly. “I just want to soak
him a bit. I won’t do much harm; I know where
to hit.”
“Keep quiet!” the policeman shot back,
looking at them harshly. “I have no time to
waste. Let me inform you what is expected of
you. There are two ways of going about your
case: you can either settle with the complainants
out of court, or write statements and be in court
on Monday. So, which way will you prefer?”
“My goodness!” Odongo said, looking at his
friend as if already congratulating him. He then
looked at the OCS and said, “Ofcer, there is no
44
question about it. He will have to settle this issue
out of court. There is no other way about it.”
Wanga looked at him, trembling with anger.
“What right have you to decide for me?” he
asked. “The farm is mine, not yours. Do you
have a cane contract?”
“So you would rather go to jail, would you?
I am just trying to save you...”
“I said shut up!” Wanga said, looking at him
threateningly.
“Okay!” the OCS said menacingly. “Shut up,
both of you. I have no time to waste. If you don’t
want an out-of-court settlement, it will have to
be an in-court issue. Prepare to write statements.
I have no time for your wicked jokes.”
“Oh please, please,” Odongo appealed.
“Please, let us discuss. I know Wanga is trying
to be hard. He is just being mean. Let us discuss
with the people whose money he stole. I am
saying this simply on behalf of his family. Who
will feed those kids and that greedy, wasteful
woman called Khatienje? I tell you, that woman
can eat a whole goat in a day and even a trained
sniffer dog will not detect any leftovers. She
45
has teeth and fangs of a lioness, a tongue of a
crocodile, a stomach of a python and the brain
of a cockroach.”
“Stop it, will you?” the ofcer looked at him
angrily. “You have already made your point.
Now, Mr. Wanga, do you have anything to
say, or I give you a pen and paper to write the
statement?”
“I have nothing to say,” Wanga said blankly.
“I will write the statement.”
The policeman looked at him with eyes full
of pity and a measure of disappointment. This
was not going the way he had wanted it to go.
The short fellow, Odongo, had spilled the beans
and he wanted to capitalise on it. After all, what
did he have to gain by the man going to jail? If
the issue was settled out of court, he would be
the chief negotiator, and that would mean he
would have his cut of the settlement cash. It,
however, seemed the fellow Wanga was not
willing to negotiate, which was a pity.
“I hope,” the ofcer began, trying to be as
dignied as possible, “that you understand what
will happen after you write the statement. I will
46
lock you in cell for the weekend. Then, come
Monday, I will take you to court. You cannot be
released on police bond or bail due to the nature
of your crime. I have an airtight case against you;
and I am sure I will have you in jail by end of
next week. Do you understand me?”
“I understand, sir,” Wanga began, with
uncertainty. “But now, what do I do? I don’t
want to go to jail. Please...”
“Please what? I told you I have no time to
waste. You heard me?”
“Yes, Ofcer.”
“Then what are you trying to say? For the
last time, court or out of court?”
“Please, Ofcer...”
Odongo then put in appealingly, “Sir, call in
the men, so that we can negotiate. I know what
the man is fearing: the amount the cane is worth.
But it can’t be worth more than his family.”
The ofcer looked at Wanga for a short
while and made a decision. The men would
have to hear for themselves. He pushed a small
button. They heard a bell ring outside and almost
immediately, a young policeman opened the
47
door, stood at attention, and saluted smartly.
The OCS gave instructions to his junior
in a crisp voice. The junior then saluted and
withdrew, returning a minute later with the
victims of Wanga’s crooked ways. He then
stepped back two steps, saluted and stood at
attention, waiting for further orders. The OCS
waved him off.
“Okay, Wanga,” the ofcer said, when all
were seated. “Here are the complainants. What
do you say?”
“Ofcer,” Wanga again started hesitantly,
“that cane is all I have. If I give it out, I would be
nished. It will be harvested in two weeks’ time.
I have already been given a notice for harvesting.
I know I will get enough money to repay these
people then. If they can be patient...”
“You are wasting time,” the policeman said,
probably eager to press his demand. “It is not
me you owe money.” He then turned to the
complainants, “You have heard him. What do
you say?”
“Let’s get this straight,” Nabukhamba said.
“I have been conned once, by this man. It will
48
never happen again. If this man has cane, let
him lease it out and pay me cash.”
Wanyonyi nodded. Odongo also joined them
and sneered at Wanga.
“You have heard what they have said,” the
ofcer said. “You have to lease out your cane,
yourself, and pay these people cash. So, when
can you do this?”
“Before he answers,” Wanyonyi said, in a
determined voice, “I should probably inform
you people that I am also a cane farmer and
I know that every farmer is contracted by the
sugar company. I want to know if Wanga has
a contract for his cane. That is what will show
that the cane is his and so it can be leased out,
especially with the assistance of the company’s
eld supervisor. That would be as good as cash.”
The policeman looked at Wanga, who was
keeping a studious silence.
“He has a contract,” Odongo blurted out. “I
know it. I was a witness to the contract. Let him
not cheat you people.”
“Why can’t you answer?” the policeman
asked Wanga. “Or you are still reluctant to pay
49
these people? If you don’t want to cooperate, I
will end this discussion right away.”
“Look,” Odongo said, “even if we went to
his house right now, we would nd the contract
documents.”
“Ofcer,” Wanga said, putting on a pathetic
look, “I have the contract. Please just release me.
I know I can convince someone to take the cane.”
Nabukhamba whispered to Wanyonyi. They
nodded and then Nabukhamba raised his voice.
“Ofcer,” he said, “I have a suggestion, which
both of us are agreed on. We can take the contract
documents and conrm all the man has said. I
am told the company can change the contract to
be in our names. What does Wanga say?”
“As I said,” Wanga was now playing his
trump card, “there will be four harvests. If you
change the contract, what happens? Do I lose
everything? Four whole harvests? Is that fair?
Please, release me, so that I look for somebody
who can take the whole farm for four harvests.”
The two whispered again for some time.
They then requested the ofcer to join them
briey outside. As the door closed behind them,
50
Odongo and Wanga knocked their sts together.
This was going ne.
When the three came back, they informed
Wanga that they could take the whole farm for
four harvests. They assumed it would be twenty
stacks per harvest. Once they had the contract
changed to their names, they would pay him
the balance; but it would be at the rate of eight
thousand shillings per stack.
“Hey, eight thousand! Instead of at least
twelve!” Wanga feigned shock. “That is almost
half of the real value, Wanyonyi. Why can’t you
tell them? Please, let me get somebody myself.
Look, you can hold the documents and my ID
as I search for a buyer...”
“I think we are wasting public time,” the
ofcer announced. “I am ending this talk. If you
are not interested, Mr. Wanga, you can go back
to the cells. I will book you in now.”
It was time for Odongo to play his card.
“Ofcer,” he said, trembling, “please, let
him go in alone. Must I pay for the foolishness
of one man?” He then turned to Wanga. “Can’t
you talk? Say something. You really want to go
51
to prison?”
All eyes turned to Wanga. Even the ofcer
turned to look at him.
What the lot of them, except Odongo, did
not know, was that Wanga was playing them
like guitars; tuning them to a level that he knew
was good enough for him.
None of them could doubt what he said when
at last he decided to open his mouth. He talked
for two minutes. It was a compassionate appeal
to all of them to have mercy on him and be fair
to him. He said the cane would bring in at least
fty stacks in total, if they looked after it well.
The land was his, so there would be no fear. He
had also decided to be a good man; he wanted to
start a small business and end all links to fraud.
He already owed them about one hundred and
fty thousand shillings. Even the rst harvest
alone would clear that. He appealed to them to
share the second and third harvests, but they
should let him have the fourth harvest.
“A joke!” Nabukhamba said. “Do you know
the trouble you have put some of us through?
Ofcer, I will have the cane on my terms. We
52
will give him two hundred thousand shillings
and he will be out of the picture. As soon as he
signs his cane away at the company ofce, we
will hand him two hundred thousand shillings.
That will be all. Ofcer, I have to get back to my
home.”
53
8. Wanga’s Master Stroke
They were like ve new-found friends going
back home after a well-earned drink, due to the
heavy tasks they had had to tackle in the course
of the day. Even the policeman had removed his
uniform and was in his casual wear.
They were just chatting away, without any
sign of animosity between them. That probably
showed the amount of condence they had in
each other. They trusted and respected each other
deeply. They were men who knew that they had
done a wonderful day’s work and earned their
families something.
For one, Wanga was now out of the police
cells and was no longer slowed by heavy metals
in form of handcuffs and leg chains.
Furthermore, he had managed to gain the
condence of these men. He was going to lease
out his cane to them and they would deduct what
he owed them in form of the stolen money. The
54
rest, he would be given in cash. They would have
the contract changed to their own names – they
called it a joint contract.
But Wanga would have the last laugh. In
two weeks’ time, they would discover the truth.
By that time, Wanga would be quite far, still
practising his trade – tricking people.
As far as he was concerned, this particular
one was probably the best he had done so far. It
would earn him two hundred thousand shillings.
This was more than all he had earned in all his
other ‘labours’. That was, for sure, reason enough
to be happy.
The policeman was whistling merrily between
jokes. He had mediated this deal and in the
process, earned himself a whole two stacks of
cane.
Ever since he came to his present station, he
had always desired to engage in cane business.
He had been told how protable it was. Someone
could give three thousand shillings for a stack
of un-harvested cane and would earn twelve
thousand when the cane was harvested. If one
had enough money and bought ten stacks,
55
one could get a prot of over eighty thousand
shillings. It was not bad business, he had
concluded. It had already earned him some
money and he intended to continue with it.
He had decided to take four of the stacks, to
add onto the two he was being given. He would
pay that money in cash, after the change of
contract. The whole thing could never go wrong,
for the man could not just run away and leave
his family land over a little amount of money.
As they were going along, whistling and
talking merrily, they saw Abukusi coming
towards them. Wanga looked at him, horried.
He feared what could have occurred at his house.
Had this man betrayed him? Did his wife and
sister-in-law now know what his core business
was?
They reached him and Nabukhamba asked
cheekily how it had gone. Wanga was breathing
in short snatches.
At the question, Abukusi showed a degree
of dejection.
“I missed the way,” Abukusi lamented. “I
have spent all this time searching and searching,
56
but my efforts were not rewarded. All houses
and paths in these slums are the same.”
The two friends and the policeman laughed
loudly. But Wanga felt like hugging the man.
What he had said was such a relief to him. His
happiness was now full, even if he vigorously
protested the idea of his residence being referred
to as a slum.
They then invited Abukusi to join them and
Nabukhamba took time to explain to him what
was going on. He was whispering to him as they
went along, but at one point, the man stood and
nearly shouted, “Hey, that is wonderful! It is
simply sweet!”
Wanga tactfully pretended not to have heard
that. He walked on, pretending to look a bit
dejected, much to the satisfaction of the victims.
They believed they had at least succeeded in
making this bad man miserable. They were
going to make a huge prot from what Wanga
had stolen from them and that mattered a lot to
them. Though they knew that they would not
get much in the rst harvest, they would strike
a jackpot for the next harvest, normally referred
57
to as the ‘Ratoon one’.
Wanga knew that his wife would never allow
him to lease out the sugarcane. So as they neared
his house, he requested them to wait for him at
Shibale market, as he went for the documents.
Odongo remained with them as some sort of
surety.
At his house, he found his wife and her
sister busy preparing the evening meal. He
did not respond much to his wife’s enquiries
about where he had been all day but went to
the bedroom and discreetly put the documents
under his shirt. He then casually walked out.
The next day, armed with the documents, the
four men met Wanga and Odongo, the witness,
at the eld ofce. The eld supervisor listened
to their case. It was a straight forward matter:
willing buyer, willing seller.
He soon effected the transfer and promised
them that a new contract document would be
drawn. The cane would shift from Wanga to the
new owners. The cane delivery receipts would
henceforth be in their names.
58
...he discreetly put the documents under his shirt.
59
They left the ofce a happy lot. The others
showed their happiness openly. Wanga kept
his in his heart. Had he shown it openly, the
men would denitely have become suspicious.
He, however, was happy; very happy indeed.
Among all those people, he was the happiest;
and for a good reason: he was the only one who
would benet nancially from all this. Probably
Odongo would also benet, but on a far smaller
scale. Wanga would decide what to give him.
They then went to a shade outside the ofce
and gave Wanga his money, almost two hundred
and fty thousand. The fty was added when the
four decided to act on Wanga’s pleas for mercy.
Wanga pocketed the latest fruits of his ‘labour’
with joy owing in his heart. But outwardly, one
would think he had lost terribly.
60
9. Night Flight
Needless to say, when Wanga got the money
for the ‘lease’ of his sugarcane, he did not just
sit around, like a sack of potatoes, waiting
for the cheated people to catch up with him.
He knew that the time of reckoning would
come, when they would nd out that they had
been cheated. If he did not plan quickly and
thoroughly enough, he would suffer greatly.
He had taken enough from them to start him
off comfortably somewhere else, as he looked
around and surveyed the ground to see where
else he could con others.
Once again, Odongo came in handy. Odongo
had a plan, what he called his ‘plan of action’.
It was almost fool-proof and Wanga agreed to
it fully.
Probably it is important to point out again
that when Wanga married his wife, Khatienje,
he lied to her that he was a senior supervisor in
61
the nearby sugar company. For the two years he
had stayed with her, he had kept alive this lie,
telling her he was the boss at his place of work,
and could sometimes stay away for as long as
he wanted. All he had to do was assign people
work and leave it to them. He would, he said,
sack anybody who failed to do his job properly.
Things were, however, coming to a head, as
they say. After stealing from all those people,
including an OCS, he would just have to run
away. Otherwise he would get caught and this
time round, no trick would help him. He would
go to jail and lose everything.
Thus the day he was given the money, he
effected the rst part of Odongo’s plan. He
came home and announced that he had been
retrenched from his job at the company.
“What happened?” Khatienje asked, unable
to hold back tears.
“The company has been retrenching people,
as you know,” Wanga said, his hand supporting
his chin, as he sat on a chair. He looked desolate.
“Many have suffered the same fate, including
senior managers. We will see what to do. I
62
will have to aggressively look for another job.
Meanwhile, we should prepare to relocate.”
He had some money to spend and from
habit, he spent it. He lived at ease for some
days, entertaining his wife and sister-in-law,
and buying many nice things for them.
However, had Khatienje been keen, she
would have noticed some strange goings-on.
Various people were visiting him that time and
he would leave the house with them for private
talks.
The fact was that their cane was to be
harvested soon; and the people coming to see
him were the ones he had leased the cane to.
True to his calling as a con man, he had not put
his wife in the picture.
“This business should just be between us,
friend,” he would tell them, whenever they
enquired if ‘Madam’ would not object. “The
woman should only care that she is eating. I
have other ways of looking after the family, by
the way. My wife is not troublesome at all,” he
would conclude.
Thus all the four people came, at different
63
times, seeking his conrmation that all was well
before the harvesting. He assured each of them
on that issue. They would get their cane as per
the promise he had made to them.
He even requested for some nancial help
from them, since, as he said, he was very broke.
They all knew that cane harvesters needed
breakfast and lunch as they did their job, or else
they would not work properly. Some would even
ask for a ‘puff’’ and a ‘sip’, meaning cigarettes
and alcohol. Each of these people was willing to
be helpful; and in the end, he got almost thirty
thousand shillings extra.
The group of Wanyonyi and others had
instructed the former to constantly check on
Wanga to ensure that he played no monkey
tricks. If he behaved in a manner likely to suggest
something shy, he would be arrested and kept
in police cells till all was well with the cane
deliveries. So far, however, he had behaved,
Wanyonyi told the others on phone.
Nevertheless, all that time, Wanga was
scheming on how he would get away from the
place before his trick was discovered. He was
64
systematically applying Odongo’s formula.
The night before the harvesting was to start,
Wanga came home looking very agitated.
“This is terrible,” he whispered to his wife.
He did not want the girl, Feyi, to be put in the
picture just yet. “The landlord has heard that I
have been retrenched and is coming to lock the
house tomorrow. My things will have to remain
here till I pay him. Now, I do not have enough
money this time, so the best I can do is leave and
come back to pay him when some friends repay
me the money they have borrowed. I have lent
out almost half a million shillings.”
Khatienje knew that type of business.
Somebody borrowed a thousand shillings and
after a month, repaid two thousand. That would
mean a million shillings when everyone had
repaid. It was protable but very tricky, since
there was always the danger of people defaulting.
“Why, Baba Stonnie?” she asked, somehow
surprised. “How can you lend out so much
money?” (‘Stonnie’ was the name of their rst
born son).
“They had problems. What is more, I am sure
65
they will repay. But meanwhile, we have to pack
straight away and leave this place.”
Luckily, Khatienje’s sister, Feyi, would help
with the packing and carrying of things out.
She happened to be quite industrious, Wanga
had noticed; quite unlike her sister, who was a
bit lazy.
As they were packing, Odongo arrived, also
looking quite agitated. He was carrying a dirty
bag, obviously containing some items. Wanga
looked at him suspiciously.
“Welcome,” he told him. “I see you have
brought me something? What is it and why do
you look so unsettled?”
Odongo did not respond immediately. He
sat on one of the chairs. Wanga looked at him,
pretending to wonder what could have hit his
friend.
But that was merely a show. He knew fully
well why Odongo was there. Part of his plan was
that they should go together; but Khatienje was
not to know that. After a few minutes, Odongo
came up with his story of afiction, as they all
listened.
66
He had been thrown out of the nest-like
structure he stayed in. The County Council was
pulling those structures down to build decent
houses in Shibale. He was now carrying all his
earthly belongings in that small sack, which
looked as if it had been hurriedly dug out of
the ground.
“I came to see if you could accommodate
me for a few days, as I look around for another
‘Keja’,” he said. “But I see you are also packing.
What is this about?”
“We are also leaving,” Wanga announced.
“My God! Then what shall I do?” the man
was almost crying.
Wanga looked at him sympathetically and
seemed to reach a quick decision.
“Please, come with us. I will give you a place
to stay as you look for a house. Look, help us to
take these things outside.”
“Why are you leaving? And why move at
night?”
“Don’t worry about all that. Night is the time
to move. It affords one some privacy. Help me
carry this bed outside, Kuuka. The vehicle should
67
be here any time.” (They normally called each
other Kuuka, meaning ‘grandfather’ in the Luyia
language, to show fondness for each other, since
they had ‘faced the knife’ together).
Only Khatienje sat outside her house,
doing nothing. Her new baby boy, Rian kiggs
Brighton, was now four months old, and she
still considered herself a bit too delicate to do
any heavy task. Feyi, her sister, did not think so;
she felt that Khatienje was just being lazy and
sometimes had the cheek to tell her that.
“Why are you acting so lazy, when there is
work to do?” Feyi asked. “Stop being lazy. Help
me carry these bags.”
“Just be careful how you talk to me, you
small kid!” Khatienje shot back, looking at her
sister harshly. “You must know you are a child
and I am a grown-up. What is more, this is my
house. You cannot talk to me like that. You must
respect me.”
Feyi stopped and looked at her as if she
would swallow her. But that was as far as she
could go, even if she wished Khatienje could
help her. Nevertheless, she had made her point.
68
Wanga looked at them and smiled. He could
not interfere. They could quarrel a bit if they
wanted. It was not the rst time. For now, it was
urgent that they pack discreetly and depart from
the place without giving anybody a chance to
make enquiries.
He had arranged with a pickup truck owner
from Shianda, a shopping centre quite some
distance away, to come over and pick him. He
could not use a local person, since he did not
want it known that he was moving. He intended
to go to a place quite far off, but where he would
settle and mix with the crowds without attracting
unnecessary attention. He had thought of Busia
town, since he was not known there, and none
of his victims came from there. He did not want
to be pounced on one day as he moved about.
The owner of the vehicle was also willing to
help, in the way that Odongo had planned; he
was crucial if their plan was to go through. A
local person would even have alerted neighbours.
The vehicle came and they quickly and
quietly packed their belongings. It was almost
eleven o’clock and there were no people around
69
to ask questions.
Khatienje looked at the place nostalgically
as they left. She could remember so many nice
things which had happened there. Wanga did
not look back even once. He did not want to
part with fteen thousand shillings, the rent he
had not paid for the previous three months. In
his line of business, one was to pay only when
one had to.
70
10. The Vehicle ‘Messes’
When they reached Mayoni, the vehicle,
whose engine had been running smoothly,
suddenly coughed a few times, seemed to sneeze
loudly, and then went very quiet. It moved on for
a few metres, then slowed and came to a stop.
“My goodness!” Wanga said, worry showing
all over his face. At the best of times, it was a thin
face; but now, worry made it seem to suddenly
develop sharp, almost thorny, bumps. He looked
quite queer then, especially in the poor light.
“What is it now?”
“Worry less,” the driver said, smiling
reassuringly. “That is what makes a journey
adventurous. Just settle back and enjoy the
adventure, as I try to get this animal moving.”
“I hope it will move,” Wanga said, fearing
about getting caught stranded around there, just
two kilometres from Shibale. His moving at night
would certainly raise suspicions. There were also
71
many people he owed money, and other things.
There was even a neighbour’s classic coffee set
right there in the pickup truck!
“It will, Mheshimiwa,” he said, referring to
him by the Swahili title of ‘Honourable’. “Just
be patient; but if it becomes necessary to push,
I hope we will help each other as men.”
Odongo, who had said nothing so far, now
put in, “Shall this one really get us to Busia?”
“It will get you to Mombasa and back, if you
want,” the driver said, showing some annoyance.
“Just give me enough money for fuel. I have
been to many far off places with this vehicle!”
Wanga had not yet given Odongo any money,
but it had been agreed that he would get some
as they went off together. Odongo could not
possibly stay at Shibale after Wanga’s departure.
He would obviously be arrested as an accomplice.
But Khatienje was not to be put in the picture.
All the play acting was meant to make her remain
ignorant; and as it looked, the driver was doing
everything according to the script. Odongo and
Wanga were accomplished actors, and they
could see Khatienje and her sister being led in
72
beautifully.
The driver, after peering at and touching
some wires and things in the open bonnet,
banged it shut and got into the vehicle. He
requested Wanga and Odongo to push a bit,
but apparently, it still needed something more
than merely peering at, and touching, wires and
other bits. Moreover, due to the luggage, it was
as heavy as a house. The two men pushing were
also not the strongest that Shibale had hosted.
Odongo made the whole exercise worse by
joking wildly, as was his habit.
“Please, don’t just touch the vehicle,” he said,
looking at Wanga angrily. “I am pushing alone.
And stop pretending that you are sweating and
panting. You know you are doing nothing!”
Wanga was pretending to be too angry and
worried to think of jokes at that time. He had to
make his wife see how anxious he was.
“Try harder!” the driver shouted. “For it to
start, the speed of pushing must be higher than
this. Let’s go!”
They made as if to exert themselves as hard
as they could. They were panting audibly, and
73
loudly urging each other to push. But the vehicle
did not seem to care.
“Let us rest!” Odongo shouted. “Or rather,
let me rest. I am working alone. This other man
has no urgency. He is just touching the vehicle
as if feeling the smoothness of the paint. Please
allow me to rest a bit. I will resume after some
time.”
Even with the darkness, Wanga saw a wink
forming in that unsightly face. This was going
on well. The driver seemed to be cooperating
fully. The two ladies must be convinced by now.
As if to dispel any doubts from the mentioned
ladies, the driver, following their script,
pretended to be very angry with Wanga. He
pretended to believe what Odongo was saying.
“Why don’t you want to push the vehicle,
boss?” he asked Wanga, rather harshly. “Vehicles
get stuck; and when that happens, everybody is
supposed to give a hand. It doesn’t matter what
type of suit one is wearing.”
Wanga, on his part, was also getting ‘angry’.
He had hired this man and now the same hireling
was issuing orders! What is more, even the ladies
74
knew Odongo was very weak and lazy, so it was
Wanga doing the pushing, not Odongo. Thus to
them, Wanga had to act angry, for he was being
unfairly blamed. Even Khatienje felt angry at this
attack on her husband, but she could not blame
the driver. How was he to know that Odongo
was a joker?
“You don’t have to talk to me like that,
Mister,” Wanga said, ‘trying’ hard to control
his ‘anger’. “When I hired you, you did not tell
me your vehicle was defective. You promised
to take me to Busia town. Then you get stuck
here and start making demands. If you knew the
vehicle would need pushing, you should have
carried your own pushers.”
“Hey, hey…so you want to be bossy, huh?”
the driver asked, getting out of the vehicle. “You
think you are a boss, don’t you? My boss? Let me
warn you: I am not going to tolerate nonsense.
You are not my boss. I am just helping you to
ee, most likely due to non-payment of house
rent. See how kind-hearted I am. I know the type
of people who shift at night. I am telling you to
push the vehicle. Stop thinking of yourself as
75
a boss. Either push, or start unpacking. Throw
your things down, if you think I am disturbing
you. I will call my boys – some are at Shibale
– and they will help me start this vehicle. You
can then get another vehicle to help you ee.”
Hearing this, Odongo almost collapsed with
laughter. His big mouth opened so widely one
could have counted all his teeth, even in that
bad light. Wanga wanted to ‘react’ aggressively
but ‘reason’ came to him. He ‘had’ to push the
vehicle, to avoid the alternative of unloading his
things and looking for another vehicle at that
ungodly hour. It was almost midnight.
“Shut up!” he curtly told Odongo. “Let us
push the vehicle, you lazy fellow. All you can
do is invent wicked jokes as I do all the pushing.
Let’s go. Tell the driver fellow we are ready.”
“Why can’t you tell him yourself?” Odongo
asked, giggling; obviously trying to ‘annoy’ him
further. “It is you who hired him. I don’t want
to talk to him.”
“Stop your childishness,” Wanga said. “Tell
the fellow.”
76
“Okay, Driver,” Odongo said, rather too
loudly for someone who was just a few steps
away. “I have rested. Let’s go.”
The driver told the two women to get out
briey, so he could have more room to operate.
The two men strained, pushing the vehicle till it
gathered some speed, but it still could not start.
“Why can’t you turn the vehicle and head
towards River Nzoia?” Odongo suggested. “It
will be faster and easier to push.”
They all saw the sense in this suggestion.
Even Feyi congratulated Odongo for his quick
thinking. The driver, thanking Odongo and
suggesting that he was university material, made
a u-turn, pointing the vehicle towards River
Nzoia. He then told them to push as hard as
possible.
The vehicle gathered speed, helped by the
slope. A short while later, the engine started and
the vehicle gave a shrill roar and took off at a
high speed towards Shibale.
77
11. Khatienje Marooned
“He is leaving us here!” Wanga cried. “He is
taking off with our things! Stop, you! Wooooi!
Heeeeelp!”
The two women started crying loudly,
announcing that they had left their handbags
and other things in the vehicle. However, if the
driver heard them, he did not care. The vehicle,
now very much alive and full of speed, zoomed
off to wherever its driver was directing it.
“Woi! Woi! Woi!” Wanga jumped all over
the place, shouting. “Just at once! At once and
I have lost everything! All that I have bought
since I started working is gone. Just like that!”
“Let’s go to the police station!” Khatienje
wailed. “Let’s report this crook! You have his
details. Let’s go and report him. The police will
get him!”
“Where do we start all that? It means we have
to walk to Mumias Police Station,” Wanga said.
78
“And what details? When I hired the man, I did
not even ask his name. I don’t even know the
registration number of the vehicle. I just trusted
him. We have nowhere to start!”
“I hope you don’t subject the babies to the
idea of walking over to Mumias Police Station,”
Odongo put in. For once, all his jokes were gone.
He was now talking very maturely and sensibly.
“They can get malaria and pneumonia. Look,
Wanga, why can’t we get the ladies a place to
sleep here at Mayoni, then the two of us can go
to the police station and report this theft?”
However, the man being talked to was almost
fainting because of what had just happened. It
was a big blow, as far as he was concerned. It
was unthinkable, that man simply driving off
with all those things. He could imagine the man
going to wherever he came from, unloading those
things and going off to continue with his usual
business, most likely in another location. Wanga
was now talking to himself, raving, shouting,
even threatening to beat up Odongo, whose idea
it was that the man turns downhill. He wanted
to run to River Nzoia and jump into the water.
79
“Let me die now!” he shouted. “I have no desire
to live. I have lost everything. Let me die now.
Don’t hold me!”
Odongo and Feyi, however, held onto him,
the girl crying helplessly and telling him how
much her sister loved him. “Don’t, my in-law,”
she begged. “Don’t kill yourself. You will get
many more things in life. We all love you. You
are still young, In-law!”
Even Khatienje, wailing uncontrollably, called
him ‘My husband’, for once. She was holding
the two babies; one by the hand and another
on her chest. Wanga smiled inwardly. This was
pleasant, especially since he knew exactly what
the driver was doing. There was no cause for
worry, since his things were safe.
He cooled down and asked Odongo to
help him search for lodgings. They walked to
the shopping centre, ‘noticed’ a tall building
and went to it. Wanga had already done his
homework. He knew that building had lodging
rooms. He had even been there earlier and talked
to the man in charge. The ladies and children
nally settled in and Wanga now set off with
80
Odongo to ‘report’ the theft.
When Odongo hatched the scheme, the aim
had been to get Khatienje to go to her home
without creating a scene, or even refusing.
Wanga wanted to be free to roam around a bit,
far from Shibale. In fact, he had wanted to be far
from Western Kenya. He knew he had dialled
a wrong number, conning all those people,
especially the lawyer and the policemen. They
would not rest till he was found and punished.
Thus choosing Busia had been easy, for from
Busia, he could easily cross over to Uganda and
relax somewhere until the heat cooled off. The
victims could search for him all over Kenya and
not nd him. They would have to give up.
They had arranged with that driver to drive
off and keep the things for some time in a room
Wanga had hired at Shianda. He had paid him
ten thousand shillings, which was way too
generous.
When they got to the road, Wanga rang the
driver’s number. His phone was off. Well, he
thought, probably he was still driving. But then,
by now he should surely have reached Shianda
81
and unpacked?
They did not give it a thought, though. All
they had to do was relax and get some sleep.
The next day, they would send the ladies home
and go to Busia.
The following day, they put Khatienje and
her sister into a vehicle headed for Tingolo,
Khatienje’s home place. Wanga gave her ten
thousand shillings and told her to use it as
carefully as possible, as he was now out of a job.
He would get her something when his debtors
started repaying, in about one month’s time, he
promised.
Wanga and Odongo then quickly boarded a
vehicle for Busia.
82
12. At the Border Town
There was, however, something they would
have to worry about that day. In the course of
the day, the conned leasers of his sugarcane
would discover the reality of the situation and
would denitely hit the roof. Before midday,
they would start calling, after realizing they had
been played like guitars.
Wanga did not want to answer any awkward
questions. He thus immediately decided to block
all the numbers of his victims.
By the time they reached Busia, he had one
hundred and fty thousand shillings. He had
decided to give Odongo twenty thousand. After
all, it was proceeds from his own sugarcane. But
Odongo had helped him a great deal over his
getting out of police cells and conning the latest
group. He deserved to be rewarded handsomely.
They settled in a nondescript joint right in the
middle of the town and took a double room. It
83
was cheaper that way. They told the lady giving
out the rooms that they were casual workers and
needed such a place for a few days.
They again tried calling the driver’s number
but he was still unreachable, meaning the number
was off.
“Does he have any other number, apart from
the one you are using?” Odongo asked, anxiety
now building up.
“No. He only gave me one number,” Wanga
replied.
The man was supposed to bring those things
over to Busia just the following day, according
to their plan. That was when he would be paid
his full dues, an extra ve thousand shillings, to
add onto the ten thousand he had already been
given. But Wanga wanted to be sure the things
were safe.
“Probably we can just wait till tomorrow,
hoping he doesn’t con us,” Odongo suggested.
“You shut up!” Wanga shot back, not happy
with the reference.
“But you should not complain too much
about such things, surely. After all, he could
84
simply be our colleague in this business. It is a
tough business at the best of times. At one time,
you gain; at other times you lose, heavily...”
“I said shut up, Odongo! Let’s wait for
tomorrow.”
Even as he said that, however, he was not
very condent. He was dead worried. How
come the man was not picking his calls? Why?
When he had approached him, the man had
seemed very cooperative. He was very eager
to help. Could he have got other ideas later,
probably after looking at the loot?
He wondered how the day was progressing
over at his sugarcane farm. He knew the cane
was being cut and he also knew that before the
end of the day, it would be collected. That was
when the truth would hit those fellows, very,
very hard.
That is when they would know they had been
conned. How would they take it? The manhunt
would start immediately. He was glad he was
far away from Shibale. If the worst happened, he
would just walk across the border into Uganda
and that would be that.
85
He, however, hoped that those fellows would
come to terms with reality and share the proceeds
of the cane as best they could. If not, they would
hunt all over the place for him, but without
success. Busia was safe, he assured himself.
86
13. An Assembly of Guitars
And now, what is happening at the farm?
Well, of course the cane is being harvested.
The four gentlemen, one of them an OCS, no
less, are there, armed with the cane contract,
already changed to their names.
As they stand admiring the stacks piling
up before them, some other people arrive and
stand admiring the same stacks that are growing
in size. That is normal. When cane is being
harvested in those parts, people come to watch;
all types of people.
An old man, leaning slightly on a crooked,
rough-looking walking-stick, comes over and
selects a long, fat stick of sugarcane and starts
chewing it negligently. The owners look at him,
wondering what has happened to good manners
these days. Even the old seem to have de-learned
good manners! You would think the cane is
his, the way he is chewing it with a degree of
87
concentration, not even bothering to greet the
owners or the cutters.
The school principal arrives with his wife
and his deputy principal. He is driving a nice
car, in the latest registration range. The owner
of the car wants an assurance that the man is a
serious buyer, and they are to meet here and x
the deal after counting the number of stacks the
cane is going to give.
The lawyer arrives a short time after the
principal and starts walking about, surveying
the work. His impeccable suit makes him look
a bit out of place, what with the cane cutters
singing lustily about women; something that
has made the principal’s wife to stay in the car,
reading the Bible and rebuking Satan spiritedly.
The businessman and the policeman arrive.
It is now a full house.
88
It was now a full house.
89
The different parties on the farm have put
themselves in ve clusters. With some sense of
symmetry, each group has taken its own vantage
point on the shamba and is enjoying the goings-on
from there. Some are greatly enjoying the songs
from the cane cutters, and people like Wanyonyi
and Nabukhamba sing along, equally lustily.
Mulongo, the famous circumcision song, is being
belted with passion. ‘Ahooo! Ahooo!’ The chorus
goes, as the pangas land in rhythmic harmony.
Before long, the giant cane carrying tractors
arrive. Loading is starting. The role of the owner
here is to receive the receipts called ‘deliveries’,
showing their sugarcane has been picked and
is headed for the factory. The time has come;
and the various groups move closer to receive
what is rightfully theirs. The supervisor looks
at them quizzically and calls out to the owners;
the latest owners.
“What!” the lawyer, the principal, the
policeman and the businessman shout almost
jointly. And like a well-rehearsed choir reciting
a line of a choral verse, they respond in unison,
“This is my cane!” complete with hand gestures.
90
“What is going on here?” he asks himself.
91
They dramatically open their eyes, their
mouths gaping.
This is understandable, for their predicament
is the same.
The group of the OCS also responds,
jointly, too: “No, it is our cane!”, also showing
thoroughness in the use of body language. The
supervisor is surprised. Like a trained adjudicator
in the drama festival, he looks from one group
to the other. “What is going on here?” he asks
himself. He cools down tempers and requests
for documentary evidence.
The four parties, who had been conned
earlier on, bring out photocopies of the contract
documents and Wanga’s handwritten agreements.
The supervisor is thoroughly amused. He
laughs quite derisively.
“Mumechezwa,” he says briey, meaning, in
Kiswahili, ‘You have been conned’. “A photocopy
is not recognized in law. We want the original.”
The new ‘owners’, the OCS group, bring
forth their documents, and these are accepted.
The other conned fellows protest hotly. This is
going to turn out ugly. None of them wants to
92
imagine that they have been conned.
“But then, where is the owner of the land?”
the businessman asks, irritated. “Wanga is the
owner of this land! He can’t hide from his own
land!”
“From our records, the owner of the land
is called Wavwire Masevula,” the supervisor
announces, looking around. “Who of you is called
by that name? Please, let me see your National
ID.”
That is when the ‘negligent’ old man steps
forward, still chewing busily, and announces that
he is the owner of the land. Wanga had not paid
him the full amount for the lease of the shamba
and had promised to give him one stack of the
present harvest. That is why he is there.
All look at each other. A master con game
has been played out here. They are all victims.
Money has denitely been lost.
The sooner Wanga is looked for, the better.
He has made a huge mistake, conning the police,
a teacher, a lawyer and a businessmen. The
resulting hissing, as of several snakes, shows that
if found, he will suffer great and painful bites!
93
14. The Law – Yet Again!
The next day, Wanga and Odongo had a good
breakfast. For the rst time, Odongo ate things
called sausages. And there were eggs, a delicacy
he could not afford back at Shibale.
“You also look waaau!” Wanga joked.
He was right. In his lodging room, Odongo
had bathed well, and brushed, or shall we say
‘scrubbed’, his teeth. Whether it was the rst
time or not is not the issue here. But yesterday,
after being given money, he had bought some
things, denitely for the rst time. These had
included a toothbrush and toothpaste. He had
also bought a change of clothes, and shoes which
had turned out to be undersize.
So today, he denitely looked smart. Anybody
seeing him would denitely notice the change.
After breakfast, they decided to scout for a
house. They hoped they could get a quiet, cheap
place where they could reside without raising
94
eyebrows. They would live separately, if it would
be possible. The two living together would only
raise suspicions.
They got a quiet place in what was being
referred to as Marachi Estate. Each paid for their
own room.
Now all that was needed was furniture. This
was the time they really wanted the driver to
take their call.
They decided to trick him. Odongo, who had
just bought his rst phone, called the number.
The phone rang! So he had simply blocked
Wanga, they concluded. That said a great deal
about what was on his mind! Wanga took the
phone and asked him where he was.
“And who are you?” the recipient asked.
“Don’t you think it is very bad manners calling
me and asking me such a question? I don’t even
have this number in my phone memory.”
“I am the one you carried luggage for
yesterday,” Wanga said, laughing to humour
him.
“Goodness! So you are the fellow who stole
people’s money and things, lied to my driver
95
and had him arrested? You are Wanga, not so?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The hell you know what I am talking about!
Do you realize I have to try and get money to pay
for Okhupe’s bail? And you dare ask me what
I am talking about? If I got you now, I would
pull off your stupid tongue! Look, your things
are now in the police station. You can pick them
from there.”
Odongo, watching his friend make the call,
saw him tremble visibly. He was staring into
space. His breathing became laboured and
suddenly, without warning, he collapsed onto
the oor.
“Hey, help! Help, somebody!” Odongo
shouted. “Someone is dying here! Room 8B!”
Help arrived sooner than Odongo would
have expected. The kind men who responded
showed a wonderful spirit. They seemed to be
experts at the issue; and soon, they had revived
Wanga. They gave him bottled water and some
glucose. He licked it gratefully.
“Thank you very much,” Wanga said, looking
at the men, a nice smile on his face.
96
“Thank you very much,” Wanga said...
97
“We are at your service, Mr. Wanga,” one
of the men said.
“Oh, you know me? How come?” Wanga
asked, then looked at Odongo and gave a slight
wink. He was big, as he always boasted to him.
The wink simply said, Heard that, you small man?
Mimi ni mzito! I have always told you that I am
known. These rst aid people seem to know people.
“Mr. Wanga, it is our duty to know people
like you; and of course your friend Odongo.
Now, if you will kindly hold out your hands,
both of them, we will give you something you
richly deserve.”
Wanga again winked at his friend and held
out his hands, smiling his thanks at the gift, or
present, or award, or whatever it was that he was
about to receive. Good fortune, he told himself,
seemed to follow him wherever he went. After
receiving that money just two weeks before, he
was now about to receive an award, or offer
from...who were they? Red Cross, most likely!
Yes, Red Cross. They had come so fast!
The fact is, however, that the call had been
traced. The whole of the previous day they had
98
been trying to get him. The driver had been
arrested and the owner of the vehicle told to
cooperate. Tracing them had been an easy matter.
Once more, the two criminals were enjoined
in chains. They were quickly bundled into the
police car and rushed to Mumias.
99
Vocabulary
accomplice a partner in crime
airtight sure
blossomed developed
blunder big mistake
blurted revealed suddenly
coherently clearly
craftiness tricky
default fail to pay
deformed not of normal shape
discreetly secretly
feigned pretended
ashy colourful; good-looking
hoard hide goods to sell at an
increased price
hysterically uncontrollably
jackpot great luck
lynch kill, especially through mob
justice
momentary for a short moment
100
mutilated badly cut
mutual shared; common
nightmarish scaring; frightening
nostalgically with longing
patriots people who love their
country and obey its laws
plight difculty; problem
posture position; attitude
provocation urging, encouragement
retrench reduce number of employees
rinsed rewashed
rustics ignorant people
shrivelled dried up; shrunken
sizeable big; huge
snarl high-itched roar/cry
unison together
wobbly unsteady
101
Questions
1. What was the crime of the Wanga and
Odongo?
2. Why were the police worried about the public
knowing the crime of the two?
3. What was Odongo’s trick?
4. Why did Odongo hate Bwibo Sinia?
5. Wanga wanted to show that he was unwilling
to part with his sugarcane. Give a reason for
this.
6. What sort of woman did Odongo think
Khatienje was?
7. Mention the people that Wanga had leased
out his cane to.
8. What were ‘deliveries’?
9. Give two reasons why Wanga did not want
to be seen leaving his house at Shibale.
10.How did the police know Wanga was in Busia
town?