Happy New Year

It’s a chilly Saturday evening. It’s chilly because the dark is slowly creeping in. It always has to be chilly at this time of day. The atmosphere is the complete opposite, it’s warm. ‘mulooongo….ahooo, mulooooongo…ahooo’. Music is playing, the music is loud, noisy. No one seems to be bothered as bothered as I am. On the contrary infact, they seem to like it. They are exuberant, ecstatic. They are clustered in tiny groups of 5-10 men and women. They form a circle, a bit rudimentary, sometimes an oval and maybe even a triangle at worst. They take turns, each stepping up into the middle of the circle, when they feel touched. They strut their moves…what they don’t notice is that their moves be similar. Amidst the exuberance, I notice a lone figure seated in the shadows. Sipping on something from a metal mug. It looked like tea from a far. Kindred spirits had finally met. I went and sat next to him. He welcomes me with a glass of whatever he was sipping. I had taken tea before, tea had milk, this didn’t. This was not tea. He introduced himself as Wanjala.Wanjala looks atleast 24. I could tell from the look on his face…it was not written…but his face didn’t look young. Wanjala looked somewhat sad, fed up with life in fact. I try to make conversation, I made the mistake of asking why so blue.Wanjala doesn’t know where to start so he starts from the most reason. Wanjala says how he has gone to three different high schools. He says how he has sat for his KCSE for the third time. He does not tell me his results but I figure they are not noteworthy. He thought that he had finally mastered secondary education but then Matiang’i happens. Wanjala says how he is going to be a father in the coming year. Wanjala says how he is not prepared, he doesn’t know the first thing about taking care of a child. He is excited. That was written all over his face.Wanjala tells me about all the problems he has. He says how he had planned to drown all his sorrows on that chilly Saturday evening but his poison proves to be, well, not potent.Midnight reaches very fast. Wanjala puts down his not so potent drink, excuses himself, takes up a long stick, gets to his hut and strikes the s**t out of his roof. Wanjala believes this drives away the evil spirits from the ending year. A countdown ensues, 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1. A new year has started. Wanjala has driven away the evil spirits. He still sips on his not so potent drink. He is not alone this time. He had hop. Hope that things will work out in this new year. Things will be different, Matiang’i will not interfere in his business, he will pass his exams, his drink will become potent.Happy New Year 2017 everyone.
Like and don’t be afraid to share.Its a new year.