Tuesday Night

It is five past six on Tuesday evening. I’m from my errands on some matters I’m working on. Deadline is tomorrow morning so everything has to end by today night. I pass by the shop and buy myself two cigarettes. I have to relieve myself of all this work I’ve been doing all week. Furthermore, I left some change in the morning when I passed by. I staff my two rolls in my bag and head on home. Can’t wait to drop this bag off my shoulders drop myself on that couch. I don’t have a lighter and I used my last match stick last night. I head back to the shop and buy a packet of matchboxes. That will take me for some weeks.

Before I get to open the door, this key has no idea how I feel currently. So it better not bring up the bullshit it does everyday. The first twist and the door opens. “Miracles are true; I guess” I murmur to myself. I look back at the door as I walk away just to be sure it’s the same house I get to every night. This key never opens that fast the other days. I’m so tired to bend down and untie my shoes, so I kick them off my legs and they fly over to the bed. One lands on top of the bed but I’m sure I’ll get out when I get to sleep. A big smile and a loud sigh feels the room as I walk towards the couch. Just before I get to drop myself, I hit my smallest toe against the table. The number of curses I drop out of my mouth are highly worth listener discretion for people under the age of 18. The pain is so stiff I drop a tear from my left eye as I drop on the couch. I’ll cook later I’m not really that hungry.

It’s seventeen minutes past nine. A tone from my phone wakes me up from my slumber. A notification saying about my works deadline lights up the room from my phone. I try and look around but all I see dim. I switch the phone off and turn the wall switch on. Now that’s better. I can feel my stomach rumbling like an empty vessel. A big gulp of water helps to stop the noise. I come to the dilemma whether to cook or not. And if I’m to cook, what should I cook. A little survey of the room and some maize flour displays itself on top of a shelf corner. I boil some water and get ready to cook ugali.

The ringtone from my phone disturbs my wild thoughts. It’s John asking me to meet him in town. I try to dismiss the idea but he insists it won’t take long that I’ll be back in the house within the hour. I fall to his trap and he sends over a taxi to come pick me up. The taxi driver already knows where John is and he takes me directly to him. I forgot my rolls on the ash tray so I curse myself. He drops me over in one of our common joints with John. I could hear John’s voice all the way from inside. He must be drunk. As I walk towards him his laughter becomes louder. He is surrounded by some of his drunk workmates. He introduces me to them. He starts hugging me all over and saying how I’m his guy. That there is no one else like me. He orders me a bottle of beer but dismiss him. He insists that there is no way I’m leaving there without taking one and orders the waitress to bring me a can of tusker. There is no way I could ask John what he wanted infront of his friends, so I had to wait for them to leave so we could talk.

It’s twenty-two minutes to midnight. I already joined the drunk ones in the laughter. Our voices are so high the watchman could hear us all the way from the gate. We are already a source of entertainment to almost everyone in the club. We create attention to even the waiters and waitresses. My bladder is full so I leave to go and empty myself. I stagger around and almost fall on one of the waitresses. John and the company laugh out loud and I smile back at them and scratch off the idea that I’m drunk and walk away to the washrooms. I should have worn something heavy when leaving the house. It is really getting cold. I relieve myself for about two minutes. my bladder must be filled to the top. The loud noise from the urine hitting the walls says it all. Some minutes more and my pants would have gone home wet and smelly. Some drops hit the bottom of my pair of trousers and another curse comes out of my mouth as I zip in my pants.

Commotions from the club grabs my attention. I head off to know what the disturbance is all about. My new gang is standing over the dance floor with other people. The ladies are shouting all over the floor and telling the men to stop it. I couldn’t see clearly what was going on so I head over towards them. Jon is at the center of it all. He claims a guy from the floor was eyeing his girl. FYI, John is a very violent man. I’ve been on the receiving end of his punches so I clearly know him well. The guy that john accuses has his gang too defending him. The gate man and his rungu are trying to stop them but to no avail. Just a few seconds the first punch hits John’s face and his girlfriend screams. John hits him back and war begins. I try to stop them only for a guy behind me grabs my left shoulder and turns me towards him and punches my nose. He knocks me out and leaves me unconscious.

It’s thirty minutes past six on Wednesday morning. The alarm from my phone wakes me up. I grab my phone with my eyes closed and take out the battery to keep it quiet. A heavy headache got me hissing. Blood on my shirt and torn trousers got me wondering what happened to me last night. As I walk heavily to the bathroom I glance at my reflection on the mirror on the wall as I walk pass by. Are those bruises on my face? I walk back to the mirror to confirm. What happened last night?

It wouldn’t hurt to share…