Fay's Take On Kenyan Women

The most crucial lesson that I’ve continually learnt – and still find hard to swallow, is that a lot of truth is spewed from an angry mouth.

~ Nyamz

That place called Yanoun, Palestine. There is a quiet desperation among its people. Their religion, culture, personality, environment, does not allow them to vent. But they scream as I watch them quietly.

Stealthily, they sit on the hillside counting sunrises and sunsets…to their death. What is there to live for? Leaving is their only means of survival, but they are hesitant as their roots do not afford them of such luxuries.

They live when they would rather die, stay when they would rather leave, smile when they would rather cry, walk when they would rather run. There is a lot they could do, but cannot.

They remain on those hilly slopes, telling their stories behind veils of pain and terror. They exist there on the hilltops of Yanoun, the village not on the map, but everybody knows about.

Ask them. They will tell you through silent glances and blank stares through their brown smiling eyes. They whisper it in their daily prayers five times a day, waiting for the day they shall experience true freedom in death.

The folk here live everyday surrounded by fences, failed guarantees, guns, and ancient religions. They know how to live in chains; powerless and bound. They will tell you tales of childhoods’ too distance and surreal to grasp, almost denying that it was theirs…

They reminisce of days of laughter unbound, walks up and down the picturesque hills and towns. The hilltops filled with olive goddesses, flowing water, visiting neighbours and friends around the area. A past so incredible that they cannot fathom.

I slept feeling disheartened by Yanoun, but awoke encouraged that somewhere else in the world, there was no fear of settlers burning trees, poisoning wells, vandalizing electricity, pointing guns at children and abusing women.

As Iman – a teenage girl I met while in Yanoun said, ‘It’s hard to live when I feel adulterated under everybody else’s eyes; when all my family and friends are no more, most of them dead while the lucky ones pick up the pieces in the safety of foreign Countries. I look at the sun as I sit by my hilltop. I look for them in those sunsets and sunrises, talking to them and remembering that past that stole my future. Those hopes that were plucked too soon. Dreams that have been burried too deep that I no longer dream. I sleep with ghosts of souls of those I once used to know.’

Alex contained his emotions while in the company of Fay and Mueni, but as soon as he was in the privacy of his own home, he let it all out. He felt overwhelmingly fulfilled; to give freely without restriction. He owed it to Fay especially since she had once saved his life a couple of years ago…

***

It was a wet, dull day. Alex had just knocked off work; his grand ideas of a promotion scorched to the ground. Today had ended up like all other days, static; he was still a struggling real estate broker at a local failing company. To add onto the list of negatives, his colleague who usually gave him a ride home had called in sick that day. It was unexpected. So, Alex had to make his way home on foot as he could not afford public transport fares.

As he walked down a familiar dark alley, a rough, smelly hand suddenly reached for his mouth from behind. He froze on the spot, too shocked to do anything. Next thing he knew, he was on the ground being kicked on the head, someone roaring at him to shut-up! Things happened rapidly. A huge hand carelessly groped at his breast pockets, trouser pockets, and trailed further on down, fiddling with his crotch. He tried to fight back, but the man manhandling him had the upper hand.

Alex writhed and flailed under his attacker for as long as he could. Abruptly, the man went limp on top of him. He quickly pushed him off of him, ready to sprint for dear life. A slight hand grabbed him by the arm, pulling him up. Alex clenched his fist, spinning sideways, hoping to connect with whoever was now tagging at him. It did! A shabby girl doubled up in pain, coughing and spitting, yet managing to show Alex the finger. Alex pushed her away from him as he bent down to retrieve his folder.

‘…ungrateful prick!’ Fay uttered.

Alex straightened up and looked at her, astonished at her accusation.

‘I should have let this ‘piece of shit’ get his way with you instead of butting in!’ Fay spat.

‘You helped me? I thought you were finishing off what he started!’ Alex said.

‘Do I look like a petty thief to you?!’ Fay asked.

‘Yes! Actually, you do.’ Alex said.

‘Look Mister! I may be a chokora (street urchin), but a thief? Ah-ah. No way!’ Fay told him.

Alex looked at her doubtfully; he then looked at the wooden plank on the pavement next to the, now, stirring mugger.

‘Mister, I don’t know about you, but naenda (I’m leaving) before he wakes up and kicks the hell out of me!’ Fay stated.

Alex knew then that she had saved his life. He stretched out his hand to shake hers. Fay grabbed it; both exiting the dangerous alley and onto the safety of the main street.

Soon, they were all in the car; Alex behind the wheel with Fay on his left side and Mueni on the back seat. On the ride to their unknown destination, Fay conversed with Alex. Mueni was too astounded by the Audi A5 Sportback’s interior to contribute intelligently to the conversation.

It was a short drive, fifteen minutes to be precise. Alex stepped out of the driver’s seat, walked around the car and opened both front and rear doors to let out the ladies. They looked around them, admiring the stately homes, spaciously spread out in acres and acres of land; each uniquely architectured to suit different tastes.

‘Welcome to your new home!’ Alex announced.

His words did not register with either Fay or Mueni. They both assumed that he had just welcomed them to his home.

Alex did not notice and went on to say, ‘No more living with Shi and no more living in a small hotel room. This is your house from now on girls!’

There was a moment of silence. Fay and Mueni looked at each other for a second. Fay shook her head in wonder and politely asked Alex to repeat himself.

He laughed at their awkwardness. He gestured them to follow him in. Once in the hallway, Alex reiterated that this was now their home.

Mueni dropped on her knees, crying. Fay stood there, transfixed, trying to express her gratitude, her voice failing her.

Alex did not expect such heartfelt reactions. He understood perfectly well that this were two women who had been through a lot. He was willing to do anything to ease their burdens, and he had more in store for them.

Mueni was awestruck by Alex’s vivacious personality coupled with devilishly good looks.  She was aware that ever since Fay took her under her wing, she was now seeing the world through fresh eyes. The days of being a mere house maid were well over. Fay had assured her of it.

Mueni’s thoughts went back to Alex. He was handsome – in a regal way. His hair added to his charm. It was a dread-locked Mohawk with sculpted silver rings around each lock. He reminded her of Shaka Zulu. He was well over six-feet tall, and broad shouldered. He was super toned; it was as if he lifted rocks for a living, albeit his soft hands. According to Mueni, this was an indication that he had enough money to pay someone else to do all the hard work for him.

Fay had dashed back to Mueni’s room to freshen up, leaving Mueni to make her way into the parking lot where Alex would be waiting. She felt awkward. Maybe it was down to the fact that she was finding it a bit hard to transition from treating Fay like an employer to now treating her as an equal, and most importantly, a friend.  Or it could be that Alex unsettled her.

Mueni had not had a moment to quiz Fay about Alex. So she indulged in making assumptions as she walked towards the designated area. As far as his features went, he was all man – without a doubt. But, judging from his choice of clothing and mannerisms, you would have easily mistaken him for being a woman. He wore a tight white vest, accentuating his pecs, subtly hinting at an invisible cleavage. The vest was perfectly matched with his flared cotton trouser. Colourfully beaded Maasai bracelets adorned his right wrist. On his left hand he had a silver piece, spiralling the length between his wrist and elbow. A multi-coloured scarf was draped loosely over his left shoulder, and to finish the whole look off, he wore feminine-looking, slightly heeled sandals. Alex could have given any man or woman a run for their money.

A strong arm wove around Mueni’s shoulders from behind as she stood in the car park wondering what to do next. It was Alex. He was such a disarming soul.

‘So…Mueni, what do you think of me so far?’ Alex asked, smiling down at her.

Mueni looked away, embarrassed to bits.

Fay joined them shortly after.

After introductions were made, Fay updated Alex on what had ensued in regard to Pete. He was not surprised by Pete’s actions. He had tried to dissuade Fay from seeing him from the get go, but his words had been ignored. He listened keenly, nodding and affirming in all the right places. When she was done, he sighed and directed his gaze at Mueni who looked away, tears in her eyes. It pained her to hear her ordeal relayed to a stranger. Fay rubbed her back reassuringly.

The waitress interrupted the solemn moment, swiftly jotted down Alex’s order and left.

‘So… Where are you ladies residing?’ Alex queried.

‘Mueni is staying here at the hotel and I’m temporarily living with Shi.’ Fay stated.

‘Shi?! Why?! You should’ve called me!’ Alex said.

‘I know… But I needed to know where her loyalties lay before writing her off my life…’ Fay explained.

‘I could’ve saved you the trouble darling! Did you get the answers you were seeking?’ Alex probed.

‘Uh-huh! As soon as I had my back turned, she hauled her little ass over to Pete’s.’ Fay said.

‘How do you know she did? I thought you stopped talking to Pete…’ Alex countered.

‘Well, I set a trap.’ Fay said, brazenly.

‘I lied to her the day I moved in. I said that I’d found Mueni a room in a Hostel in town – mind you, there are only three hostels in town. I then added that Mueni was thinking of pressing charges against Pete. I figured that if she spoke to Pete, he’d try comb out Mueni from any of the three Hostels. As predicted, he did! The three receptionists at the hostels informed me that he had indeed come in looking for a guest by the name of Mueni!’ Fay revealed.

Mueni looked on in amazement.
 
‘Fay, my darling! You’re a nut!’ Alex crooned.
 
‘I sure am!’ Fay remarked, laughing.

‘May Pete and Shi live miserably-ever-after, they’ve earned it. Now, ladies! Put on your shoes, grab your purses, and follow me!’ Alex said, abruptly standing up and walking back towards the reception.

‘What about your coffee?’ Mueni and Fay asked, simultaneously.

‘See you by the car park in fifteen.’ Alex said, ignoring them.

As Alex walked through the Hotel’s lobby, hushed tones followed. People stopped what they were doing to gawk at him. The few who knew him were all too eager to wave or holler a greeting. He nodded politely at them, making his way out towards the swimming pool.

For the past hour and a half, Fay and Mueni had occupied themselves by sizing up everyone around, trying to figure out what they did for a living. So far - according to their amateur analysis, a Doctor, Teacher, Pimp, Farmer and High-end Secretary had passed by. It was now past lunch hour and the crowds had waned off. Fay was happily dozing away while Mueni enjoyed the scenery.

Mueni caught sight of Alex as he walked along one of many stone paths that zigzagged the manicured lawns. She nudged Fay saying, “Aiiiii! Is that a baba (man) or a mama (woman)?!”

Fay sat up and looked in the direction that Mueni was pointing at. Suddenly, she hopped off her lounge chair and waved frantically at Alex. “Our visitor has arrived!” She told Mueni.

Life in Nairobi forged ahead. It was Eight-thirty in the morning and traffic was bumper-to-bumper, especially now that the Chinese had been contracted to restructure roads that were in dire conditions. The air was cool, fresh, and the smell of wet soil still lingered after a night of heavy rain. Matatu (public transport vans) drivers were up to their old tricks, driving along pedestrian trails, stopping every few seconds in the middle of the road to pick up passengers, and generally being a nuisance to everybody. A large portion of the population made their way to work, or school, on foot. Unlike the Western World, there were no underground subways or reliable rail services to cater to those with no cars. The public transport fares were often hiked up - on the spur of the moment, therefore alienating those with low incomes.

Alex took it all in. He had started his day early so as to have half the day free to spend it with a person he considered family. He was already looking forward to it.