by Anthony Mugo
“Are you okay?” Claire took Diana aside.
“How can I be? Willy is in jail.”
“What is he in for?”
“Murder.”
“For crying out loud! You don’t blame me, do you?”
“Don’t be silly,” Diana said. “I had a marriage to salvage.”
Diana remembered telling herself that she wasn’t conceiving for anyone but herself. She needed to prove that she could conceive. And then there was the prospect of holding her own child. All she had wanted was a fertile sperm. She had made it a hit-and-run because she had no further use of the donor. But now he had taken centre stage in her life. Willy was integral to her survival.
Claire slumped on a chair. “I am so sorry. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know.”
But Diana knew. She had to see Willy otherwise she would end up in jail.
“But for the insurance claim this wouldn’t be happening,” Claire said.
“The policy was meant to make my live more bearable, not a living hell,” Diana said. “We can still have that college for beauty. I’ll see Willy.”
“What? Think about Stacey.”
“I must prove that Oscar was not Stacey’s father. Willy is the only one who can do that.”
“Do you think he will agree to a test?”
“He has to.”
“How can he be of help while in jail?”
“I will find a way.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Wish me luck.”
Diana walked out of the salon.
Chapter 12
Diana studied the man whose audience had cost her a thousand shillings. He was her person of interest alright. However, a lot of water had passed under the bridge. The boy was now a not-so-handsome man. An upper front tooth was missing. An ugly scar on his left cheek took away all that was left of a handsome face. Now Diana rued her choice of the father of her daughter.
Willy the Brute. She recalled thinking that he was inhuman.
“Do I know you?” Willy asked.
“Keg Bar, five years ago,” Diana said. “We made love in room 7.”
“So?”
“I have your baby.”
Willy chuckled. “Four and counting. I am a damn hero. Forget marriage because…”
“I am married,” Diana said irritably. “My husband was murdered four days ago. His body was mutilated so badly it can’t be identified. The police carried out a DNA test which failed to connect my daughter to him. I want you to help me.”
“How?”
“By submitting to a DNA test.”
“Sorry babe,” Willy got on his feet. “I am too smart for that crap.”
“I will pay for it.”
Willy looked at her more closely. “Really? Make me an offer.”
“Twenty thousand.”
“Fifty.”
“Deal.”
Willy rocked his head weighing up the situation. Fifty thousand for submitting to a test? What organ did they chop off? He was in a tight fix and could readily surrender a limb for good money. Fifty thousand could go a long way in fighting the murder charge. If handled properly the woman seemed desperate enough to cough a lot more. However, the seeming godsend was probably a trap.
“We will do this my way.” He gave her a number off-head. “Call that number. His name is Stan.”
“Who is he?”
“Think of him as the middleman. Tell him what you just told me.”
“Why?”
“Because that is how it works,” Willy said walking away.
Ten minutes later Diana was dialling the number. A raspy voice said, “Hello?”
“Is this Stan?” She asked.
“What if it is?”
“My name is Diana. I was given this number by Willy.”
“Meet me at Uhuru Park in twenty minutes.”
Diana flagged down a Matatu. The tout demanded the fare the moment she settled on her seat. The matatu had hardly moved two hundred metres before it grid to a halt. Drivers were honking as though in a noisemaking contest. Diana swore under her breath. Nairobi and traffic jams.
Diana checked time. Ten minutes were gone. She couldn’t miss Stan. She got off the minivan and approached the boda boda operator on the roadside.
“Can you get me to Uhuru Park?”
“It will cost you two hundred,” the man said.
“A hundred and fifty?”
“A bargaining nation, eh? Let’s go.”
He rode on the pavement blaring out his horn. Pedestrians flew every other way. As the traffic eased the rider swerved on to the tarmac forcing a lorry driver to step hard on his breaks. By now Diana was sweating like a leaking gutter and cursing her decision to hire the bike. At some point they closed over the pavement and rode on the off lane. They closed over the pavement again because a traffic police officer was wagging his button at them. Diana sighed with relief as the bike left Uhuru Highway into Uhuru Park. Her head felt light on alighting off the bike. She managed a nervous laugh.
“That was… fast.” She had meant to say ‘the closest I ever came to dying.’
She took time to compose herself after the rider had spent away. She dialled Stan’s number which went unanswered. Her phone rang and was disconnected. She surveyed her surroundings. A man sitting alone on the VIP dais was waving at her. She walked up to him.
Stan was a stocky man of about thirty years. His goggles were huge and dark. He was shaven clean.
“What do you want with my boy?” Stan croaked.
“My husband is dead and the police are making the identification of his body a big issue,” Diana said. “His head, legs and arms are missing. A DNA test failed to connect his body to my daughter because Willy is the father. I want him to submit to a DNA test.”
“And you are willing to pay for it?”
“Yes.”
“How much did Willy pay to sleep with you?”
“Nothing.”
“He raped you, didn’t he?”
“What? It was consensual!”
An uncomfortable silence sat between the two for a moment. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why?”
“Personally I would let the police have the body for dinner.”
Diana gasped. “How dare you! Where I come from we respect the dead, okay?”
“Where do you come from?”
“Kathare.”
“What is your husband’s name?”
“Oscar Ciuri.”
“What was he?”
“Does it matter?”
“What did he do to earn such a carving?”
“I’ll pass your question to his killer when we meet.”
Diana tensed as the possibility that Willy and Stan were Kirindi dawned on her. The organisation was close-knit countywide.
Stan removed the goggles to reveal an empty socket. “If this is a trick you will be sorry.”
“It is not a trick.”
“You’ll pay thirty thousand now and the rest after the test.”
“Can we have it tomorrow?”
“The sooner you give me the money the sooner we can get down to work,” Stan said.
Diana opened her purse and counted thirty thousand. She gave it to Stan.
“Wait for my call.”
Diana watched Stan recede. She had a sick feeling at the base of her stomach that she was seeing him for the last time. She tried Claire’s phone but it wouldn’t go through. It was two and she had no reason to stay in the open. She travelled to Clare’s place in Zimmerman.
Chapter 13
Six found Diana on her thirtieth attempt to raise Stan on his phone. She hit the sack hoping to shut out her predicaments but sleep won’t come. She gave up and put on a movie on the DVD player. However, no movie would distract her from the mess that her life had become.
Growing up in Huruma was quite an experience. Huruma was home to the unemployed and underemployed. The boys were rough and th
e girls were tough. The buildings were tall and the air was thick. The thieves were desperate and daring; the dwellers were intolerant and brutal.
At sixteen Diana had believed that man was an unnecessary evil in a woman’s life. She had witnessed so many wife beatings she was stupefied that women didn’t stage a mass walkout. In an appalling display of weakness, some women boasted of sleeping about in revenge. Marriage appeared such a senseless entity.
Now, sixteen years later, Diana had learnt why men were a necessary burden in women’s lives. She knew that growing older brings with it insecurity and loneliness. Seeing your best friend dance on the isle and exchange vows makes you feel so incomplete you want to catch the flower bouquet for a chance to throw it next. Loneliness makes you prolong that chat with the handsome co-worker as possibilities dance in your head. You learn to talk with your smile and your gait and your eyes. Before you know it you are telling your friends that you are in love. From this point on you are on a roller coaster. Love disrupts priorities. It opens the door to an intruder when it shouldn’t. It impresses upon you that singlehood is a jail worse than Guantanamo Bay. Before the roller coaster stops you are Mrs. This or That.
Then you start wondering whether it is worth it. But regressing to singlehood is so depressing you opt to hang on.
Diana couldn’t tell why she fell for Oscar. He was tall and strong but the receding hairline was a no-no. He certainly wasn’t the most intelligent man in the room. Her immediate relationship must have played a big part. Water is a welcome refuge if you’re inside a furnace. Forget that it can also kill. Again, the hand of time was turning and Mr Perfect was late. Whatever the reason she was Mrs. Oscar Ciuri.
Claire arrived at nine and collapsed on the sofa.
“You are off-air,” Diana said.
“I can’t lie to the police again,” Claire said. “I doubt I was convincing the last time.”
“Going off-air makes it smell sky-high.”
Diana recounted her activities of the day to a silent Claire.
“You should have let the police in on what you are up to,” Claire said.
“That’s a mistake I will have to live with.”
“Call them.”
“Not now.”
“If you won’t then I will.”
“What? Look here, you are not thinking straight. I must deal with Willy first.”
“I can’t be an accomplice.”
“An accomplice to what?”
“You damn well know what I am talking about!” Claire stared at her sister. “You’re all over the news for heaven’s sake!”
“What are you talking about?”
“The test turned negative and you have vanished!”
Diana’s eyes were two saucers. Claire switched on the radio. Diana switched it off.
“I can’t go to jail,” Claire said.
“No one is going to jail. We plan to set up a college and that is what will happen. You know why the test turned negative. You also know why I am here.”
“You should leave.”
“What do you mean I should leave? I am your sister for heaven’s sake! When Jacob left I took you in, didn’t I? I helped you get back on your feet. Do you know what it cost me?”
Claire broke down into sobs. Diana held her close. Of course she was scared shitless too. She had been conned and she could easily end up in jail.
“I will leave first thing in the morning,” Diana said. Claire wriggled free and entered her bedroom.
Diana fell asleep on the sofa waiting for Stan’s call. She woke up at five and checked her phone. No missed call. She prepared herself quickly and left. She travelled to Uhuru Park because she didn’t know what to do or where else to go. She sat at the same spot she had given Stan thirty thousand the previous day. What was she thinking? Why did she have to pay a down-payment? Of course she was desperate to prove the DNA test wrong. Everything was pegged on that test. The burial. Her innocence. The insurance claim...
At three Diana’s phone rang startling her. She glared at it for a long moment. Only Claire and Stan had the number but the police had their means.
She picked the call.
“You are on tomorrow,” a raspy voice said.
Diana had a heavy sigh. “Stan? Where the hell have you been?”
“Just have the balance ready.”
The line went dead.
Diana sprung on her feet. Time to go home.
***
Boko was considering calling it a day when a woman covered in a headscarf walked into his office. He started as Diana removed her goggles and headscarf.
“I can explain everything,” Diana said.
“A confession is in order,” Boko said.
“Oscar and I couldn’t get a kid for a year,” Diana said. “This doctor said that I was not ovulating. He gave me some medication with the assurance that I would get pregnant in a week’s time. My father-in-law suggested an outing to make the baby. We went to Nairobi where we boarded in a hotel room for the week. I knew that Oscar was the problem. One the third day I walked into a nearby bar, picked the handsomest man and slept with him. I fell pregnant. Oscar was happy, my father-in-law was happy, the doctor was a hero.”
“Where is the father?”
“He is in prison. You have a way of collecting the sample, right? I will pay for the test.”
“Why didn’t you share this information with us?”
“Would you have taken my word for it?” Diana said. “I guess not. No one believes anything I say.”
Boko recalled how worked up he had become when Diana took off. “Did you have to threaten us?”
“I didn’t know what to do,” Diana said. “Today Stacey knows whom to call father. Tomorrow she will have to channel her affection to a stranger. My reputation is in tatters. To the public Oscar was not man enough. Can I make a humble request?” She took advantage of Boko’s hesitation to proceed. “Can we keep Stacey’s paternity private?”
“I can’t promise anything.”
Their eyes rocked for a long moment.
“Can I check on my daughter now?” Diana said.
“I am supposed to book you,” Boko said. “I will let you go on Stacey’s account. Don’t make me regret it.”
“Thanks.”
Diana replaced her goggles and headscarf and walked out. She stopped at Maxmix Supermarket where she bought some supplies then took a taxi home.
Stacey met her at the gate. “Mother! Mother!”
Diana put her supplies down to pick her daughter. “How is my angel?”
“Did you get Papa?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Mother,” Stacey said. “We have a visitor.”
“Really?”
Diana put Stacey down, picked her shopping and started for her house. She stopped dead at the door to the sitting room.
Willy sat on the sofa, his jaws grinding like a wild machine.
“Hey,” Willy greeted. “You look sexier out here.”
Diana stormed the kitchen. She seized a sufuria and hurled it at Kelvin. It missed his head by inches. She took another sufuria and aimed. “I told you never to allow strangers into my house, didn’t I? Get out of my house!”
Kelvin dashed past Diana. She dropped the sufuria and retraced her steps to the sitting room. She leaned on the door frame for a long moment looking at Willy who continued to chew unperturbed. The table-top was littered with herbs and groundnut skins.
“She is a copyright,” Willy said. “A look at the two of us is enough. Think of posho and the resultant ugali.”
“You should leave.”
Willy removed his new Caterpillar boots and placed his legs on the glass table top. He stuffed more herbs in his bulging mouth and lit a cigarette. He took the remote and changed channels rapid-fire.
“To get the police down fast tell them it is Willy the Brute. A couple of them must know me.”
Diana collapsed on the sofa and cupped her face in her hands.
&
nbsp; “I can get used to this,” Willy said. “How big is this box? Seventy-two inch?”
He continued to chew and to smoke. Diana continued to glare at him.
“If you won’t call the police then get me something to eat. I love fried chicken with ugali. Don’t forget some chilli.”
“Why aren’t you in jail?”
“I was in court in the morning. I walked on a technicality. Life is full of twists my dear.”
Willy did more tuning than watching the television.
“Stan is a resourceful bastard,” Willy said. “He did his homework so well he found that I stand between you and ten million.”
Diana cursed. “We made a deal.”
“Fifty thousand is an insult to the person doing all the work, don’t you think?”
“What work?”
“I’ll ignore your attitude. We will split halfway.”
Diana jumped to her feet. “You are out of your goddamn mind! Fifty thousand is all you will get.”
Willy swung his feet off the table and reached for his boots. “We would have become rich. You won’t just lose five million, you will go to jail.”
Diana dropped back on the sofa. Her head was throbbing.
Willy made for the door.
“One million,” Diana said.
Willy turned the doorknob.
“Two million.”
Willy faced her. He was sneering like a fox. “Four.”
“Why are you doing this to me? I am the mother of you daughter for heaven’s sake!”
Willy stepped out and slammed the door. He was at the gate when Diana caught up with him.
“Okay! Four million! Damn you!”
Willy hesitated. “See you tomorrow.”
“What about supper?”
“I will pass.”
Diana slammed the door so hard the house reverberated. She searched for aspirins and swallowed five of them. She called Claire.
“I am in serious trouble,” Diana said. “Willy turned up at my home.”
“How? Isn’t he supposed to be in jail?”
“He demands four million.”
“What?”
“Sis, I feel so helpless. What will I do?”
“Tell him to go to hell after he has given the sample,” Claire said. “Aren’t there laws against extortion in this country?”
