Saturday Night Live

He phoned me at 4 in the morning to open the door. I had just fallen asleep so the moment was not as amusing or as welcome as one would expect. But I was expecting his call. I did the necessary, dressed up and walked towards the door. His stench hit me way before I saw him turn the corner. That wasn't as welcome either. "I should be used to this by now!" I thought to myself. But considering what I had taken him through in the past, I was going to suck it up and do this for him gladly.

Without my specs and after a short nap, my eyesight goes from worst to terrible so I didn't notice anything at first. At least not until he walked into the light in the laundry room. I almost wanted to push him back into the darkness. That way I wouldn't have to see it again. His face was swollen and I have never seen him in such pain before. He wasn't drank but he was definitely struggling to move. I had left him earlier that morning looking bright and chirpy. Now even though he was wearing the same clothes, he looked dull and tattered.

He was slightly muddy, extremely dirty and unusually wet for the slight drizzle that was outside. I was first hit by guilt then sadness then pure rage. At that point I could have killed whoever did this to him. This is when having super-powers would have made sense. Nyeri women don't get their violent reputation by just sitting on the sidelines. He poured himself a glass of water and started stumbling towards his room. I locked up behind him and placed ice on his swollen lip. There was clearly no way I was sleeping tonight. Not with him across the hall looking like he'd just been run over by a truck and then some.

I drifted in and out while "Lie to me" played in the background. From the shuffling and tossing and turning I had heard, he hadn't gotten much sleep either. By 6 in the morning, we were both staring at the ceiling, listening out for the rest of the house to move. His face was turned towards the wall, the swelling had gone down but I guess he wasn't particularly ready for everyone else to get a viewing. By 9 in the morning, there was alot of yelling coming from outside the doors. None of us made a sound. We could deal with them later.

He looked much better in the morning after a long warm shower. Some of what I thought was bruising was just splashes of a combination of dirt, alcohol and urine. The swelling around his mouth had gone down significantly. His muscles didn't hurt as much. He said he wanted to go to church so I took him. We sat there silently while the pastor preached on. His eyes were glazed and distant. My mind was killing those bastards in new ways every second. Men don't show emotion. They don't feel pain. They just deal with it. The most I could do was just sit there. He didn't want tea, he didn't want food. Must be the sense of violation. A few minutes with the nephew after church and he was starting to look and act normal again. They understand each other. They know how to calm each other down.

He finally suggested that we take a walk to the junction. He needed to feel "less empty". That's how he described it. He needed to stretch his muscles, get his mind off things. That's when he finally told me everything that happened the night before. Robbery in a toilet stall. Apparently there was a fight and then a punch that knocked him out cold. 5 man-boys. All he wanted to do now was sleep. So I fed him, I watered him, I drugged him and I put him to bed. In a few hours, he'd wake up refreshed, back to his joking self and all these would be behind us. But if I ever meet those 5 idiots who did this to him, I'll skin them and then wash them in acid. I may be a small person but I carry rage like a wronged beast.


PS: news has it that there's a group of 4 men carjacking and killing in the Karen-Langata area. Please watch yourselves.