Image Credits: Desktopography
So am seated at the far corner in a school dining hall. At least that’s what I called it before I discovered that they called it “Mess” here in Campus, not a dining hall. I now understand why because the place was such a mess. The air is rife with all kinds of noises from clattering plates to a broken radio at the other corner, one with lousy speakers producing some shoddy Rhumba tune. I love the ancient feeling that comes with Rhumba music from Central Africa but not from such a radio. A fearfully made lady can be seen in a small cocoon that looks like a prison, busy creating receipts, known as coupons, used to collect food at the other corner of the hall next to the kitchen. I think I have mentioned the four corners of this “Mess” including the one I am in so by now you have a vague picture don’t you? Corner One, Me! Corner Two, Old Radio! Corner Three, Cocooned Fearful lady! Corner Four, Food Section!
Every second, people walk in and out of the premises as expected since it is lunch hour. Although it is hard to keep up with all the new faces flying by, somehow, I could not fail to notice this fine looking gentleman. 5’9, Black Complexion, Less fearful than the lady at the corner. Basically, he was what some ladies would call TDH. His three piece suit, slim tie, and pointy shiny shoes were quite conspicuous, even interesting in this mess of a place that was in the middle of nowhere. He seemed dressed not for the location but for the occasion. Sorry, for an occasion. One only he would attend because everyone else looked normal except for him and considering it was our third week as freshmen, it was rather odd to see such elegance. He looked familiar and I had the hunch I had seen him somewhere in our orientation as the school newbies. But why would he be so determined to dress so good in the middle of this desert? I mean it’s barely a fortnight since we got to Campus! His suit disgraced some of us who were walking in PJ’s and slippers at noon! Am just saying. #SMH. His sharp shooters make some ‘Kong Kong’ noise as he proceeds to join the long queue leading to the food section en route the fearful lady at the coupon point.
Ten minutes later he arrives at the food section, picks up two plates of food and walks majestically to a table in the middle of the mess. Setting the plates, he quickly helps the janitor clear and wipe the table. Then, he quickly peruses the hall in search for something. Alas! He spots his sought for object which happens to be an extra chair. He rushes and grabs it before it is occupied by other students and brings it back, puts it at the opposite side of the table, sits down and smiles as though he had made some stellar achievement. Now I know what you are thinking right now. What am I doing observing the life of an innocent man minding his own business? Let’s just say an idle mind can be anyone’s workshop. I learnt that the hard way later in my journey of life. And please don’t judge me. You have all found yourselves in such a situation one too many times before. And hey I have sharp binocular vision, just making use of my talent mate 😉
The awkward thing? He stares down at the two plates and does nothing. He seems anxious. He fidgets around with his phone as one eagerly awaiting a text. Once in every 20 seconds, he cranes his neck over to check the entrance of the hall. I figure he just might be waiting for someone. It must be a date. Forgive my curiosity! As a normal human being with no pressing agenda in my schedule, I find myself compelled to help him await his date. I mean with his restlessness, she would probably arrive in ten minutes, which did seem like the whole day to this gentleman. She seemed quite the big deal which made this all the more fun. “Let’s start counting shall we?” I begin to escort all the ladies who looked like ‘his type’, which was very stereotypical of me because I judged the ladies at the doorstep based on the guy’s looks. No matter, everyone does that. We all try to predict the league of someone’s boyfriend or girlfriend based on how they look. ‘Boss, she’s out of your league. Iza msee hutoshi mboga!’ the statements sound familiar right? Well I tried matching him with his league but after 10 girls who I thought were ‘the ones’ he was waiting for, I gave up and decided to get a life. So I picked my spoon and stretched, preparing to walk away.
Upon standing, a beautiful shorty lady walks in gracefully. She looks 5’3. Big eyes. Natural style. No makeups. Black hair falling over her shoulders. Official dress code. Black skirt. White blouse. She’s even carrying an executive clutch bag! Black manicure. 3 Inch Heels….I could go on! Excuse my awesome descriptive skills. I am a photographer who’s dealt with models for two and a half years now. You learn a thing or two. 🙂
Who is she? I was lost admiring her, totally forgetting my previous adventure. I resigned from my previous menial job and became the entourage to the new chic in the building. Not for this guy now, but for my own sake. She was now my potential date. ‘Sorry dude! Every man for himself.‘ I am disrupted though by the waving of hands by this very guy, signaling this beautiful girl where he was. DARN IT! What do you know? She actually belonged to this GUY! What are the odds? Honestly I had mixed feelings at this juncture. A part of me was like ‘Congratulations Man!’ The other side was like ‘She had to belong to him? Seriously him? Come on lady, you could do better!’ Man, aren’t we wicked. A minute ago I was like, ‘The guy is well dressed on top of his game.’ The next minute am like, ‘Man, his suit is from River Road. The chic is pro’ly a gold digger mining his cash. He should be wiser!’ The evil that dwells in human beings, you would be surprised! 😦
So after am done making quick conversations with myself about the unexpected turn of events, I decide to walk away to avoid being spiteful towards the brother for no apparent reason. The last thing I saw was the guy pulling the chair for his long-awaited lady to sit. Quite the chivalry I must say. A gentleman he was. I stroll down the hall from my observational corner towards the exit. I had overstayed anyway, call it lack of purpose. As soon as I set foot outside the messy building, the whole place suddenly becomes a market with noises and shouting from every corner. What in the world was happening?
I turn to see what the bedlam was all about. As I step back, I can hear guys shouting; ‘Waah huyo msee hajafanyiwa poa!’ Waah, me ningepiga huyo dame mpaka akuwe mweusi! Waah, me sijui ata ningedo nini! I think ningetransfer shule. Huwezi survive after disaster kama hiyo! Now that was interesting drama no one can resist. And I did not withhold myself from it either. I move quickly to avoid missing the best of this free ‘Netflix Premiering Movie’. I am met halfway by that cute shorty girl who I was admiring a while back. She’s breathing fire at this moment and seems to be adamant to storm out of the building. She actually jostles and pushes me out of her way and her beauty at this point seems to have faded away. She was a dragon. Out she went and the mess became all the more messy.
From a distance, the previous Mr. Lucky Guy now looked despicable. The smartly dressed young fellow was now in a distorted state. He sat down at the very same spot blinking and shaking his head in disbelief. He was dripping wet. The sunny crisp weather had changed on him abruptly. He had experienced a rainy season of his own. More of a hurricane. The stormy rain of stinking bean soup. Scattered bean seeds could be seen all over his blazer coat. Somehow, the hurricane had blown the table throwing the plate straight to his face. His phone was placed a little far from him, perhaps to refrain from breaking it into pieces because he seemed really upset and angry. His clenched fists could tell it all. I was yet to find out that the name of hurricane was Stacey. Hurricane Stacey.
“What happened to him? Shida gani imetokea tena?” I asked the students near him inquisitively. ‘Kadame flani kafupi keupe kamemuosha na supu madondo!’ For those who don’t speak Chinese, word for word, that is to say: ‘Some short brown lady just washed him with a plate of beans and soup!’ I was left mouth agape.
So the pretty lady just walked in for a potential date that did not materialize only to hurl a plate of cheap soupy, Ksh. 10/- bean stew on a poor man. Like that was her purpose for the day. That’s the only reason she appeared for the date. Why? I mean I tried to imagine everything possibly wicked the guy could have done against her but I still could not come up with a plausible evil deserving such ill-treatment. I must say I felt a bit guilty for being a technical hater from my previous jealous thoughts.
Later on, rumors from the lady’s close friends had it that she was simply “disciplining a stalker” and he deserved it. A stalker? Really? Public humiliation? Did that really pay the wages for his obsessive interest on the lady? It did not make sense then but after my friend Twali told me her story, I now kind of understood why the guy was met with such brute force.
A lesson to pick there, huh? Sometimes a NO from a lady might just mean NO! The guy did a slow walk of shame and lost his manly voice at the institution by the 3rd Week of Campus. I mean, it was very simple to threaten him. ‘Boss, usinichezee! Wewe ata siwezi kupiga ngumi, ntakumwagilia tu madondo! Ama nikuitie Stacey!’ The girl on the other hand commanded a fierce reputation that follows her to date. Call it Women Empowerment. How unfair the society can be. She gained a name as well:- Stacey Madondo!
Quick Question: As a man, what do you do if you find yourself in such a humiliating situation? Do you kill the lady or do you kill yourself?
This old tale had been buried deep in my archives. I just had to give life to it. Based on a true story by the way. Do pass it on as a folklore to your children and your children’s children. 🙂
And remember, Keep Your Mind shining even When Your Thoughts Seem Dark and no doubt, you will Experience Transcendental Manifestation.
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