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A funny story
I see a 100 shillings note lying at a neighbour’s doorstep. The door is ajar, but there is a curtain. We put curtains at our doors, us who don’t live in mansions. Us who live in two small houses standing in a row, with a communal tap and/or bathroom and toilet at the end of the row.
So I see the money and wonder if the #NjaaSanta has finally remembered me. Because it is #Njaanuary. Times are hard. There is famine in my house and drought in my wallet. The large ‘PLEASE, NO CREDIT. COME WITH MONEY’ sticker at the shop outside was put there solely because of me.
I walk to the neighbour’s door to quickly pick up the money, but just as I pick it up, the door swings open. It’s my neighbour. She looks at the 100 shillings in my hand.
“Hi,” I greet nervously.
She nods.
“Hehe, I think you dropped this. I wanted to give it to you,” I lie.
I hand it over to her. She takes it.
“It’s not mine,” she shakes her head. “But thanks.”
Thief.
“Bring it. I will find the owner,” I lie.
“It’s okay. I will find the owner,” she lies.
Liar.
We look at each other suspiciously for a few seconds. I decide to leave the matter to God.
Later on, she is beating her child for losing 200 shillings.
There is a song that goes something like “Everything na dabo dabo”
I sang it.
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