The campaign usually involves a short nomination period where listeners nominate themselves to have this once-in-a-lifetime experience with their plus one. During the last season, the station received over two thousand entries.

Epic 48 is not an Urban Radio original idea per se, and they don’t attempt to claim so. The idea was adapted from syndicated radio show producer, R Dub, of the Sunday Night Slow Jams, which also aired on Urban Radio and other 200 radio stations across the world.

“Epic 48 is the flagship audience promotion by Urban Radio 90.7 FM. We think of ourselves as an epic station and this is one of the ways we reward our listeners,” said Urban Radio CEO Ben “Japs” Ogombe in an earlier interview with this publication.

To participate listeners are required to register by logging into https://www.urbanradio.co.ke/epic48/. Last year, Urban Radio and their partners splashed Sh 1.2 million to give the two winning couples an amazing two days that started with an eviction party at Kisumu’s Alleyways Beer Garden, a night at the Grand Royal Swiss Hotel.

The couples then few to Nairobi via Safarilink for a brief stopover at Mara Olesereni and just as the contestants thought their afternoon could not get any better, they quickly hopped onto another flight to Diani in South Coast after a brief encounter at the hotel with their idols.

“I have always admired CMB Prezzo. I casually joked about it at our eviction party and you could imagine the surprise on my face when we arrived at Olesereni and there was Prezzo in flesh and blood coming to say hi to me and congratulating me for being among the Season 2 winners,” said an excited Athman Salim when we spoke on phone about his Epic 48 experience in November 2021.

“There were a lot of memorable moments in those two days. The party, the five-star hotels, the executive limos…but for me what stood out was the fact that Urban Radio spared no cent to keep the whole thing exciting. I would be joking about wanting to meet Prezzo, and the next hour he is at my table,” he added.

For Samantha Cook who was part of the other couple that won, it was the adrenaline that came with the competition…always trying to stay ahead of her competition during the elimination stages. She even got a skill out of it, she says.

“The contest was intense and fun at the same time. It actually made me work on my social media marketing skills to come out on top,” she says during a recent phone interview.

“My most memorable moments was when we went snorkelling, I love adventures. Being able to dive into the ocean and experience the underwater was just breathtaking,” she adds.

In our previous interview with Ogombe, he had promised that season 3 is going to be a passport edition, which means that contestants will be flying out of the country to a place they can have fun in and return to Kisumu within 48 hours…we hope that is still so.

When we talked earlier today about the launch though, he promised that this was going to be the best of the series ever.

“If you think Season 1 & 2 was something, you have not seen anything yet,” he says.

Why does the station spend so much money on fans for just 48 hours?

The station has three key pillars with the first being “music.” It’s known to play only number one hits; all the songs on the station’s music rotation were at one point number one in the charts. The second pillar is “the vibe,” the content, the conversation with presenters and the audience engagement.

The third pillar is lifestyle. They think of the station as a way of life. How do you define an urban person, what do urban people do?

“A big part of urban people is travelling, it’s experiencing places, it is having fun. So. Epic 48 falls squarely under that lifestyle pillar for Urban Radio” says Ogombe.

You can watch previous seasons of Epic 48 by clicking here.

The post Urban Radio Are Back With Epic 48 Season 3 appeared first on Biz Post Daily.

The grant will support Kenyan counties in establishing engagement mechanisms that result in a common understanding of priority maternal and child health challenges and possible solutions.

Additionally,  the fund will support counties to implement co-creation workshops to develop fit-for-purpose investment cases that are grounded on local ecosystem capabilities and acceptance.

Dr Francis Wafula, the Director of Open Phences and a Senior Lecturer at the SBS Institute of Healthcare Management, expressed gratitude for the funding, emphasizing the team’s intention of supporting counties to establish joint learning and co-creation mechanisms that deliver investment cases that are more focused on improving lives and less on who owns the health system inputs.

“Public-private partnerships remain contentious and contested in healthcare for two reasons. First, we have rarely involved the entire ecosystem – including community members – in the design and execution, and second, we haven’t put enough emphasis on understanding weaknesses in models and building on the lessons, including being frank enough about what doesn’t work well,” Dr. Wafula observes.

“Fair and transparent collaborations can help Africa leapfrog development. The Open Phences Hub is fully committed to contributing to that vision – unified ecosystems systems that are solely focused on meeting the social and health needs of the community,” he added.

Starting January 2022, the Hub will work with national and county governments to promote open, transparent and mutually beneficial engagement. Four counties of Homa Bay, Kiambu, Kisumu and Trans Nzoia will benefit from the first phase.

Kenya dealt fairly well with the Covid-19 pandemic, thanks to its ability to mobilize non-state actors for support. However, the mobilization was mostly ad hoc, exposing the absence of structured engagement and collaboration mechanisms between the public and private sectors.

Open Phences was created to democratize public-private engagement, collaborations, and partnerships in healthcare across Sub-Saharan Africa.

The Hub brings together a diverse pool of health systems champions with a common vision – unified health systems that harness individual strengths of ecosystem actors and channel them towards the public good.

The RISA (Research and Innovation Systems for Africa) programme aims to strengthen research and innovation ecosystems in Africa, with funding from two separate FCDO programmes – SRIA for research ecosystems and ATIP for innovation ecosystems. The awarded RISA funding is managed by Chemonics Kenya and will be implemented until 31 March 2024.

Parts of this article was adapted from the Strathmore Business School website.

The post The Open Phences Hub Awarded Funding by the UK Government appeared first on Biz Post Daily.

In my quick approximation, Urban Radio blew, close to Ksh 800,000 two weeks ago to give two lucky listeners the most epic two days of their life.

From a lavish eviction party for the finalists with free-flowing Johnnie Walker Black to talent fees to the hiring of the top of the range cars to flights from Kisumu to Diani to accommodation and accompanying logistics.

This has so far been billed as the most extravagant radio campaign.

The two winning contestants travelled between three cities, met their idols, sleep in luxury hotels and simply had the most memorable 48 hours of their lives.

The campaign was aptly tagged “experiences money can’t buy.”

Epic 48 is for our listeners. It’s about how much we value our listeners.

Ben Ogombe, CEO Urban Radio 90.7 FM

The campaign usually involves a short nomination period where listeners nominate themselves to have this once-in-a-lifetime experience with their plus one.

During the last season, the station received over two thousand entries.

It then progresses to an elimination stage where the list is thinned on radio through technicalities like following simple instructions.

For instance, presenters called names of the contestants on-air and the contestants were expected to respond by using the campaign hashtag and tagging the station on their social media within five minutes.

If one was not tuned in and missed their name being called on the radio, they will not respond appropriately and thus will be eliminated.

To throw a twist to this, the names are called across three shows during the day and in no particular order – there is no telling where your name will fall as a contestant.

The 10 contestants who follow all the rules to the end make it to the final Epic 48 draw where listeners will then take over by voting for their preferred winner.

The voting happens on social media to enhance transparency. Social media analytics tools are then deployed to not only tally the votes but also weed out those attempting to rig the system through double voting.

In the end, the person with the highest votes and the first runner up gets to experience the most awesome 48 hours of their lives. They are each allowed to bring one person on the trip with them.

                  Season 1 Epic 48 / Video Courtersy of Urban Radio 90.7 FM

The 48 hours countdown begins in Kisumu at the end of an eviction party usually hosted at a club in town or a high-end resort. The last eviction party was hosted by Johnie Walker at Kisumu’s Alleyways Beer Garden.

Participants in the competition must always be ready to pack and leave at a moment’s notice – usually very few hours. The winners are picked up by state of the art luxury cars from their houses and chauffeured to the eviction party where they receive an all-VIP red carpet welcome.

The clock starts counting down to 48 hours when they arrive at the luxury hotel they are staying in for the night. For season one the winners stayed at Ciala Resort in Kisumu, while for Season two they spent the night at the Grand Royal Swiss Hotel.

The idea

Epic 48 is not an Urban Radio original idea per se, and they don’t attempt to claim so. The idea was adapted from syndicated radio show producer, R Dub, of the Sunday Night Slow Jams, which also aired on Urban Radio and other 200 radio stations across the world.

“We were having a chat with Randy Williams (R Dub) on what kind of promotions we can do to make the station stand out, he told us about this campaign they have been running called Epic 48 which was in its third edition then and we thought that would be a great idea to localise,” said Ben Ogombe, CEO Urban Radio during a recent interview with Ominde’s Words.

“Epic 48 is the flagship audience promotion by Urban Radio 90.7 FM. We think of ourselves as an epic station and this is one of the ways we reward our listeners,” adds Ogombe.

The station has three key pillars with the first being “music.” It’s known to play only number one hits – all the songs on the station’s music rotation were at one point number one in the charts.

The second pillar is “the vibe,” the content, the conversation with presenters and the audience engagement.

The third pillar is lifestyle. They think of the station as a way of life. How do you define an urban person, what do urban people do?

“A big part of urban people is travelling, it’s experiencing places, it is having fun. So. Epic 48 falls squarely under that lifestyle pillar for Urban Radio” says Ogombe.

What the station is trying to do with the campaign is make the dreams of their listeners come true. They also want to show their listeners what they can do in 48 hours.

They try to answer the question, how far can you go and what amazing things can you do in 48 hours?

It’s however not only about the places you go to but also the people you meet – look at it, if you had the money and at times we do, you can go to these places. But the campaign gets you to meet your idols as well.

The thinking about the promotion revolves around Magic – blowing you away! Motion, the promotion is about time, everything has to be done within 48 hours – going to all these amazing places and still having enough time to have fun.

Mystery – the surprise element. The contestant doesn’t know where they will be going, what they will be doing, who they will be meeting. Lastly, moments – unforgettable moments. Things you only see on TV.

“The fun part about the campaign is that we put a lot of decoys. The contestants try to guess what happens next and we throw them off their game. In the last edition, we told them to pack swimsuits.

“They guessed we were going to the coast but we got to Nairobi and checked in at the Emara Olesereni. At some point we told them that we were going to pick someone from the airport, unknown to them their luggage had already been secretly checked out of the hotel and they were not going to spend the night at Ole Sereni, ” says Ogombe.

Destination Marketing

The promotion is also about showcasing destinations. If you are in Kisumu and your idea of a weekend is just hanging out at the regular joint, Epic 48 opens your mind to a whole lot of destinations.

Even if you don’t have 600K to blow away in two days but you sure can have a good weekend and be back in time for work on Monday. This includes travelling out of the country.

The station is promising that season 3 of the promotion will be a passport edition. They are also looking forward to partnerships with hotels.

Sponsorship Plugin

The station has partnered with various brands to deliver the Epic 48 promotion to their audiences every three months. The whole process of determining the winner is data-driven from registration on their microsite to shortlisting tasks to voting, to the live broadcast of the EPIC48 journey on its social media platforms to the release of the season’s documentary on our youtube page. This makes them naturally look at Safaricom as a flagship partner.

Johnie Walker is the preferred epic drink, fun times are made better with a bottle of JW Black and their goal here is to have our listeners think of JW Black as the drink for epic excursions and for the flight partner, Safarilink is their preferred wing to the bush and the beach and their invaluable partnership has really helped in making every minute in the 48 hours count.

“The distinct feature with this promotion is that we will have to stick with our partners for all editions. It’s totally disjointed to say today that JW Black is the EPIC48 drink then switch to something else on the next edition.

“Our listeners are following each season and we have to ensure our offering is consistent. We want Safarilink to be able to christen a round trip of say, Kisumu to Diani through Wilson as the EPIC48 trip and our listeners will understand that this is the flight that gets you out of Kisumu at 12.10 on Friday and through Wilson to Diana by 15.30 and returns you to Kisumu on Sunday evening.

“We are also in talks to bring on board a skincare and beauty partner, a phone brand – so the whole experience can be shot using their phone, and a payment platform partner. This is a property that moving forward we will be selling at the beginning of the year and sharing our calendar of events with our partners early enough and they buy it for the whole year,” explained Ogombe.

For the sponsors, this promotion brings to life various aspects of their products through the on-air campaigns. The value they get on air, through the journey and the entire contact points.

For the audience, the second season of Epic 48 will be released in episodes. This will allow the station’s audiences to relive detailed experiences the winning contestants had and whet their appetite for the next edition. This also helps the photographers who had a challenge cutting down gigabytes of footage into just six minutes of film.

The promotion has now also integrated a CSR project where the contestants have an opportunity to give back to a cause of their choice.

The post Epic 48, Kenya’s Most Extravagant Radio Promotion appeared first on Biz Post Daily.

The airline says the new routes and increased flight frequencies are aimed at meeting the expected increased travel demand during the Easter holiday. Travellers on these routes will enjoy greater flexibility during the festive period from 18th March to 19th April 2021.

The airline will operate a total of 9 weekly non-stop flights with the Nairobi-Eldoret route operating five new weekly flights from 18th of March to 19th of April: Kisumu-Mombasa route operating two weekly flights from 25th of March to 11th April 2021 and the Entebbe-Mombasa route operating two weekly flights from 1st April to 5th April.

Kenya Airways Acting Chief Commercial and Customer Officer Julius Thairu – while acknowledging that the situation remains fluid – says that the scheduled enhancement will help meet the growing passenger demand during this period and provide more choices, flexibility, and convenience.

“We have seen signs of demand from customers who want to visit their family and friends or go on vacation, and their travel booking intent remains largely unchanged. We, however, continue to monitor trends and observe the Covid-19 protocols to ensure passengers comfort and safety even with increased demand.”

The Easter celebrations are part of the airline’s commitment to enhanced customer experience with unique and seasonal offerings.

Kenya Airways flight routings this Easter:

Eldoret

New flights, direct from Nairobi to/from Eldoret.
5 weekly flights from 18th Mar 2021 to 19th Apr 2021.
Operated by E190 on Mon, Thu, Fri, Sat and Sun.
Morning schedule on Mon and Sat and Evening schedule on Thu, Fri and Sun.

Kisumu Mombasa

New flights direct from Kisumu to/from Mombasa.
2 weekly flights from 25th Mar 2021 to 11th Apr 2021.
Operated by E190 on Thu and Sun.

Entebbe Mombasa

New flights direct from Entebbe, Uganda to/from Mombasa.
2 weekly flights from 1st Apr 2021 to 5th Apr 2021.
Operated by E190 on Mon and Thu.

Kenya Airways is also providing a special offer celebrating women during International Women’s Month comprising of one free ticket for every four bookings made before March 31st. This is extended targeted at women who wish to travel between Kisumu to Mombasa or Nairobi to Mombasa.

The post Kenya Airways To Introduce Direct Flights Between Kisumu and Mombasa During Easter appeared first on Biz Post Daily.

Adrian Washika who rose to fame in the 90’s playing alongside industry heavyweights like Dj Pinye, Dj Chopstick and Dj Space among other notable names will be in Kisumu for the first time to play a gig.

Adrian will be hosted by Dj Slim – one of Kisumu’s veteran Djs also famed for his mastery of grown folk music of different genres. The show is expected to begin from 1.00 PM to 9.00 PM. The Club’s management is promising revellers a mature party with music guarantee to take them back in time as they enjoy drinks and food at affordable prices. Covid-19 regulations on social distancing and mask policies will be strictly adhered to.

Club Da Place which has recently received a face lift is known to host some of the country’s biggest names in entertainment, putting money in artists’ pockets during these these hard economic times.

If you are looking for a place to hang out this weekend then how about you throw on some old school clad and head on to Mamboleo for Kisumu’s biggest party this weekend.

The post Dj Adrian to Perform in Kisumu for the first time on Saturday appeared first on Biz Post Daily.

Her ex husband was seriously ill at Aga Khan Hospital, Kisumu. One of his friends had called and begged her to come make peace with the man before he died.

Their relationship had not ended on a good note, scratch that. Their relationship had ended violently. So violent that Nancy was in the hospital for two weeks and her husband in police cells.

But for “the kids” she had decided to withdraw the assault charges, against the wishes of her lawyer, her friends and her family. She did not want to be the woman who sent the father of her 12-year-old son and nine – year old daughter to prison. That is not who she was.

Nancy had been a house wife since graduating from Kenya School of Law (KSL), Nairobi. She studied for her law degree in Uganda, was admitted to the bar as an Advocate of the High Court but had never practiced.

She met George* through a mutual acquaintance while at KSL and their relationship advanced pretty fast it even scared the friend who introduced them.

He was a man hard to resist. In fact, within a month of getting to know each other, George had given Nancy his Mercedes Benz C200 to drive herself to school with and for her errands.

Within another month he had rented an apartment for her in Langata, moving from the one-bedroom house she shared with a friend in Ongata Rongai. The apartment was tastefully furnished.

Nancy had lied to her friends and family that she had gotten a well paying part-time job with an international NGO in Nairobi. George spoilt her rotten.

When they were not spending the weekend in Dubai, they were in Zanzibar or Diani or cooling off at Enashipai Lodge in Naivasha.

Nancy was living in the fast lane. She was sending good money back home to her struggling parents in Adiedo, Kendubay. Her two sisters in high school no longer had fee arrears nor struggled with shopping. Her mother who is a staunch SDA adherent thanked God for her each night.

Her grades at KSL could not keep up, she had had several retakes but she eventually passed and was admitted to the bar. It was a great celebration for her family.

This was also the day she introduced George to them as a friend. They had dinner with her mum and dad, and the aunty who had paid her high school and campus fees at The Intercontinental Hotel, Nairobi. Though they suspected that George was more than a friend, they would not confirm it till later that month when he visited their rural home.

It was not Nancy’s idea to introduce George to her parents at that time, but being who he was he had made it happen his way.

“I remember he had asked me to accompany him to Homabay for a function. We flew to Kisumu on the 6.30 AM flight arriving there just shortly after seven o’clock.

“There was a driver waiting for us. We had breakfast at Imperial Hotel before driving to Homabay Tourist Hotel. While in Homabay he met with a couple of guys, though the meetings did not seem that important to make a man take the first flight out of Nairobi.

“When he was done, which was by about noon, he suggested that since we are passing by Adiedo on our way back to Kisumu, we do some shopping for my mum.”

Nancy had assumed that they would get someone to drop the shopping to her mum’s, but no, they were delivering the gifts by themselves. It was a lot of shopping.

Her mum was happy and excited to see them. Her dad was his usual self – cautious. Read a little too much in everything. Maybe for good reasons. In fact, he had asked George straight what his intentions were with his daughter that day.

“I want to marry her,” George had responded. Nancy was shocked. They had not talked about marriage. The drive back to Kisumu was filled with silence.

She wanted to start a fight, ask questions but she could not do that with their driver in the car. So she looked outside the window, most of the time staring at the moving trees, villagers going about their businesses, at the road-front shops branded with telco logos.

George was lost in his own thoughts too, at times bumping his head to the soft rhumba tunes oozing from the car’s stereo.

When they got to Kisumu George told the driver to stop for more fuel and drive to Gem. He was taking her to meet his mother. He had a beautiful home in the village but no wife.

He had been married before but his wife had left with his two kids. She had asked why but he only claimed it wasn’t working, no details. The children still visited his Nairobi house.

His mother was happy to meet him. His dad had died a while before that. They did not spend the night in the village, drove back to Kisumu that evening and spent the night at Sovereign Hotel.

That is the night he had asked her not to bother looking for a job. He was going to marry her, her job would be to take care of their children.

Other than him forcing his way on people, he seemed to be a good man. Nancy thought that she could even make him a better man.

He had flourishing businesses, interests in private security, real estate, hospitality and a host of other businesses he did with local and national governments thanks to his connections.

They had renovated her mother’s house before her dowry was paid. It was an event villagers in Adiedo spoke about for months. They had not seen that many cars in one place before. There was no church wedding. At the time of the dowry, Nancy was already pregnant with their first child.

Nancy soon started to hear rumors about George’s previous marriage. Claims of extreme cruelty against his ex – wife but she chose to ignore them. The George he knew was incapable of the kind of things they said he did. He wasn’t perfect but to her he was trying to be a good man and she appreciated that.

He took care of everything Nancy and her children needed. They had moved to Kisumu just before the baby was born. Nancy even earned a monthly allowance, an amount that a lot of her colleagues who were working were not making. She used most of it to take care of her parents and siblings. She kept a little for herself.

She was friends with other girls who were married to the city’s tycoons. They had some sort of ‘rich wives of Kisumu club.’ They kept her occupied when George was busy travelling, or when she needed a break from the kids.

They occasionally traveled as a family, mostly during school holidays, but George traveled a lot still. Most of the time, alone.

The little arrogance and forcefulness that Nancy thought she could change grew. George was rarely ever at home, Nancy hardly knew where he was three-quarters of those times.

When he was home he came back when everyone was already asleep. The kids barely knew him anymore. When she asked all he said was “I give you everything you need, what do you want me here for?”

But that was not all, Nancy started hearing stories of him with other younger girls. Girls in campus. At times she saw photos of him with younger girls on other people’s social media pages.

There were times he came to Kisumu for the weekend but never came home. Once when he was home she confronted him, he slapped her so hard she had a ringing sound in her ear for almost an hour. It was the first time he hit her. He never apologized for it.

His philandering ways became so obvious. He was dating a student from Maseno University. He had rented an apartment in Kisumu’s Tom Mboya estate. They were always seen in town together.

His photos were on her Instagram. Nancy had begged him to respect her and the kids and not publicly display his cheating ways. She had made peace with the fact that there was a younger girl in their relationship, what she had not made peace with was him humiliating her in public.

She had reached out to both their parents for help, his mother sympathized with her, her own mother told her to just hang in there, perhaps blinded by George’s generosity. Her father only said, “I warned you.”

One Saturday George had thrown a birthday party for his firstborn son. He had invited both their friends to the party. There was music, food and a lot of drinks. All was going on well until the new girl showed up too.

Nancy was in the kitchen when she was told that she was at the house. She came straight to the living room and asked her to leave her house.

She looked at his husband and asked him why he would bring his “whore” to their son’s party. An ugly scene followed, guests left, George left too with the girl.

That night, George came back drunk and beat Nancy up to a pulp. If it wasn’t for the guard who had called the neighbors for help, Nancy would have died.

She was rushed to the hospital. Her husband was arrested the following day. Nancy stayed for a week in hospital but when she came out she refused to press charges against her husband.

The police had no option but to set him free. She said she was doing it for her children. She packed her bags, took out the money she had been saving and left with the kids to Kampala where she had gone to school to start over.

It had been two years since she had left. She had not talked to George the entire time. She allows the kids to come visit their dad, but she had never been back to Kenya herself.

Two days before this day, George’s best friend had called her apologizing on his behalf. He had told her he could die any minute. He paid for a return flight from Entebbe to Kisumu.

George’s mum was seated on a chair next to his son. Their eyes locked. Christine the new wife was busy wiping his tears. She cleared her throat first and spoke.

“Nancy, I am sorry for what we did to you and the children. Forgive us so that my husband and the father to your children can live.”

Nancy was surprised that she thought that George’s state had anything to do with her. She turned to look at her.

“What did you just say? ” she asked.

“I only asked for forgiveness,” Christine replied.

“I forgave you and your husband the day I walked out of his house. It’s the reason I did not press assault charges. He would now be sick in a crowded public hospital and with a handcuff on his arm.

“I am here not to offer anything beyond what these doctors have been offering. I only came to let you and George know that I had forgiven him.

“To say goodbye the right way, not because I think he will die, but because we never got a chance to. As for you (she said looking at Christine in the eye), I only pitied you, if you knew the things I knew, you would have not done what you did.”

George did not say a word. Only tears flowed from his eyes.

Nancy returned to Kampala the following morning. George died that afternoon. Neither Nancy nor their children attended his funeral.

I met Nancy in Kampala last year. We were at the rooftop of Arcadia Suites Hotel. She sat with her back towards the city, I sat directly opposite her, facing Kampala’s towering buildings in the horizon.

It was one of those quiet evenings, very little traffic on the road below that leads to the British High Commission. Quite the opposite of what it is during the day.

I asked her what her biggest regrets from their relationship was.

“Ignoring what I heard about his previous marriage. Not taking the little signs seriously. I overlooked the subtle arrogance, the rush that he had in getting us married. I regret being blinded by the wealth and the flashy lifestyle,” she says after a brief moment of silence.

“How do you feel about him now that he is gone?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I am at peace with my past I think. I am glad I set him free before he died. It’s not been easy for me and the kids but we are managing. One day we will go lay flowers at his grave,” she says.

*Names have been changed.

The post ‘Let’s say our goodbyes right’ appeared first on Biz Post Daily.

Yes, I understand your confusion. I was equally confused when Dennis explained this to me. For a moment I thought the blunt I had seen him light up moments ago at the parking lot outside 1824 had messed up his head a little – BTW is that a parking lot or you Langata peeps just like parking on the road?

It’s interesting the things people will tell you at a bar when they are high. Even when you are total strangers. Stories often take a personal direction after a few pints (and puffs).

Remember the old Tusker slogan, “makes us equal, has no equal?” well, alcohol truly has a way of making people loosen up to strangers they feel are their equals or have equally interesting lives as long as they are drinking under the same roof (or on the same cabro).

If you want to prove this, imagine you were having an argument with a group of friends and someone says “juzi tukikunywa na Uhuru…”

You clearly know this guy is not in Uhunye‘s league but you also know Uhunye loves his whiskey. Naturally, you will pause to listen to what important state secrets Uhunye divulged in the presence of this guy, because under that roof (or on that cabro), whether real or imaginary Uhunye was “equals” with this guy.

We had been sitting here for three hours now. We had talked about retirement and how people need to plan for it lest they get a rude shock when it happens. We had shared stories about our now retired parents and what they were now up to. I had told him how mine spends most of their sunset years going door to door preaching the JW way. My mum had been so looking forward to it.

We talked about water hyacinth choking the life out of Lake Victoria and of course the mega-corruption in this country. If you want to start a conversation with random peeps at a bar in Kenya today just talk mention an article you read in the recent past about a major corruption deal. On this Tuesday it was the famous multi-billion dam scam. We also talked about the weather – it was a hot and windy afternoon. For some reason, Dennis still had his jacket on. The necktie was just slightly loosened around his white shirt. The breast pockets had the initials ‘D.N’ – I guess they were initials for his name and not Daily Nation. I asked him if he knew Stanley Ogejo. He is the only other lawyer I know who wears white shirts with his initials ‘I.S. Ogejo’ on his breast pocket.

Dennis had seen me stare into the direction of a girl who was singing in the band area. It was karaoke night here and Nairobi peeps take their karaoke a little too seriously. Some people were here by two o’clock. I came in at around four o’clock. Dennis joined a few minutes later.

He asked me if I liked her. I smiled and said I just liked how she sang. She was doing Afro by Les Wanyika backed up by the band. I explained to him that I am married. He looked at my hands. I wasn’t wearing a ring. So I smiled and took a sip of my room temperature Tusker.

“She is married too, but you do know you can be married to two people,” he said. Then smiled. He leaned over as if to tell me a story. I instinctively leaned towards him to hear what he had to say. As a writer, you never run away from an opportunity for good gossip. Might be the subject for your next bestseller.

“Be careful what you tell a writer, it might end up in a story,” I had warned him.

“As long as you don’t identify me in your stories,” he replied. I smiled again and took another sip.

Deno (let’s call him that because Dennis is now a mouthful) looks like one of those cool guys who seem to have it all together. Works at a top Nairobi law firm handling several corporate accounts. He hates litigation, he says “that’s for lawyers who want to die poor.” Married for six years with one child who is now four. Just after she was born, their hitherto perfect family life took a different turn.

Out of the blues, their once peaceful home had become the last place he wanted to go to after a long day in the office.

Imagine after a day at work dealing with clients who think they know more than you do but have never seen the inside of a law class to coming home to deal with a woman who is louder than Omega One and Soul Sound put together.

If you were born after 1990 you would not know who/what Omega One, Soul Sound or DS Njoroge were.

These were the days of the ASK show. I don’t know about how it happened in Nairobi so I will describe from what I know best – the Kisumu ASK Show. Popularly just referred to as “Kisumu Show.”

Kisumu Show was an event people looked forward to for 12 whole months. It was bigger than Christmas and lasted four to five straight days. If your boyfriend did not take you to Kisumu Show, you would dump him for a guy who could. You would dance to Dj Ogweno’s Omega One all night, occasionally playing hide and seek with flying bottles as ‘Jo Obunga‘ fought with ‘Jo Nyalenda‘ over Anyango. Anyango would be a girl who was brought to the disco but decided to change allegiances midstream. That ‘act of treason’ would cause inter-estate wars.

Kisumu show was so important that if a Luo man wanted to tell you that you were beautiful he would just say “Iromo tero e show” (you are worth taking to Kisumu show).

Omega One was loud. So loud you would be standing outside Homeboyz Disco and all you would be listening to is music playing from Omega One.

Deno says whenever he got home his wife would be as loud as Omega One and Soul Sound combined.

They would fight about the calls Deno got. Fight about how Deno talked. Fight about how Deno threw his socks all over. Fight about texts from Njoki the intern, Sylvia the colleague and a string of other female friends in Deno’s life.

Sadly though these fights moved from words to physical fights. Deno is one of those dudes who was brought up in a ‘good Christian family.” Taught not to drink, not to smoke and never to hit a woman.

The latter lesson was from his father. He might have ignored his mother’s lesson but his father’s he did not. After all, he is his father – he carries his name ( I would have added and DNA but we can never be too sure of that these days).

The wife knew Deno would never get violent. He would cheat, drink and come home late but would never lift a finger to hit her. Maybe just hold her down or push her to a corner to restrain her.

So she fought….and fought hard. Hit him in his sleep.

Have you ever woken up feeling pain all over your body after a night of drinking and wondered if someone hit you in your sleep? For Deno, this was real. Not imaginary. He would be woken up by blows when drunk. At times whopped properly – I mean when you are thoroughly drunk how do you even restrain your attacker or defend yourself?

There is nothing as bad as your neighbors knowing your wife beats you. You ninjas remember the memes when Weta reported to a police station that he was assaulted by the wife?

It does not matter how cleaned up or important you are at work or whatever car you drive when your neighbors know you are whopped in the house by the “Mrs” you are finished.

You can’t drink at the local. You will be there ordering a beer at 8.30 PM and your neighbors are like “si uende tu home Baba Nanii, hatutaki drama na bibi yako.” You will leave in shame and they will stay drinking and making jokes about you.

Add on to that being publicly humiliated at times at your place of work or at a club in town when the wife decides to push her craziness a notch higher.

Deno became depressed. There is nothing as having problems and not being able to drown them in whiskey. His life became miserable.

That was until Deno met Crystal. He says they met at work.

Not sure what work was this that brought together a lawyer and a career marketer neither are the details important for this story.

He says he worked with Crystal on a project. Exchanged a ton of formal emails and a few phone calls. One day he decided to DM Crystal on Whatsapp when she was on her leave.

That DM conversation would change their relationship forever.

It started as a simple “I wish we could exchange places” text.

Deno was in the office dealing with clients who think they know better but were never at Moi University’s School of Law with him and his “Omega One” in the house while Crystal was lying by the pool at a  beachfront hotel in Ukunda reading The Art of The Pitch by Peter Coughter.

Crystal predictably replied “be careful what you wish for.”

They exchanged a number of texts that afternoon. Deno got to know more about her. She was married to an engineer who worked in Turkana. She had three kids, all girls.

She also got to know more about Deno. That he was married. That the wife had a business she ran from the house. About their girl, about the things Deno loved about his work and, of course, the things he hated. Still, he was glad to have the job. He knew so many of his peers who would wish they had his job.

Crystal had noticed Deno. Yes noticed. How could she not? He was a guy who was smart, handsome and really good at what he does.

On her part, she was equally good at what she does. Was respected in her company which is a multinational beverage manufacturer. In some of these companies, it’s very difficult for locals to gain respect – white guys with sh*t education are usually treated as better peeps just because of their skin color. Crystal though was respected.

Her husband is usually gone for months on end. He is working on an important project for the country – though not a government or state corporation employee. Works for an international firm. They own their Karen house, kids go to those Groups of Schools for Nairobi one percent – the elder two. The youngest one is still at home with the nanny.

Crystal is also one year older than Deno.

She had however not imagined that Deno would be interested in her. So they texted more often and talked about everything from the weather to traffic to politics over the next three months.

The first DM was sent in August, by November that year they were exchanging nudes and flirting all the time.

While there was nothing wrong with Crystal’s marriage other than the fact that her husband was away most of the time, she found comfort in Deno’s availability. They could talk about anything and everything. Deno was also a year younger meaning they were age mates compared to the husband who was 30 years older.

Crystal says she got married at 20 while still in campus. Her husband was the first guy she had had sex with. Deno would be the second (but maybe hapo alidanganywa).

Let’s go back a bit. This guy was 50 and a loaded engineer and fighting over campus chics with campus dudes. Karma is really a bitch. See how it served him 12 years later! Enyewe malipo ni hapa papa duniani.

What had happened in between is that Crystal and Deno got to know each other more, she sympathized and more importantly they connected more than they connected with their real spouses.

So I ask why they just can’t get a divorce and marry each other.

Deno says he can’t, he is so attached to his daughter. Crystal too can’t leave her husband because of the kids. Also because the husband has never hurt her in any way. She just connected differently with Deno.

Deno and Crystal treat each other as husband and wife. They have two joint businesses, run two bank accounts too. Every year they synchronize their leave days so that they can at least travel somewhere for a week together.

When he was finished I was in shock. I was not aware that such things happened in real life – looked like something off a movie script, but that was Dennis and Crystal’s twisted web.

Is someone else married to your spouse out there?  You just never know.

cover Image courtesy of pexels.com

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I did not know how to begin my conversation with Mitchelle. It’s not a common thing for a man to claim that another woman has stolen his wife. It’s also not very common for the “stolen woman” to ask for a right of reply – albeit in confidence. Guys, I was walking in unchartered territory here.

This story is a sequel to ‘Right Under His Nose’ click here if you have not read it, otherwise, you will float in a major way.

“Why did you leave your son?” That was the first question that came to my mind. As a parent I could not imagine leaving my kid behind without putting up a proper fight should a situation that calls for ‘man to put asunder what God had put together’ arise.

“It’s not that I abandoned him,” she started. Her gaze firmly on my face. Her eyes are a bit teary. Her hands were both placed on the table. Her cup of tea untouched, almost five minutes since the amazing waitress called Grace of Victoria Comfort Inn brought it to our table. We were seated at ‘Tado Lounge’ on the rooftop of the hotel’s new wing.

Mitchelle is definitely one of those complicated city women. She must have gone to those private schools where they teach girls how to cross their legs, hold their necks and what to do with their hands when having difficult conversations – being a lady. No wonder she works at a bank. I have a feeling she is in sales.

I have held a sales position in my company in an acting capacity and I tell you she looks like someone I would hire to work for me if I could afford her. You know they say ‘sales is an emotional activity’ and not a rational one. Most of the times we buy things because we like whoever is selling them and not necessarily because we like what they are selling. I can’t help but imagine the number of men who have opened bank accounts they don’t need, take up loans or mortgages they can’t afford just because Mitchelle was selling.

From up here you can see almost see three-quarters of Kisumu. From where I sat I was facing Obunga – one of Kisumu’s largest informal settlement. To my left was parts of Tom Mboya estate that fade away into USAID estate and farther in the horizon I could see what’s left of the water hyacinth on the lake. This thing seems to be moving away before the multimillion equipment that was bought to deal with it even gets here – this is Kenya. A place where we lose billions of shillings and call it “only.” Also, a place where women steal men’s wives.

Mitchelle’s back was turned towards Obunga. If her estranged husband was a residential estate in Kisumu, he would be Obunga. She also turned her back against the leafy suburbs of Riat Hills where their matrimonial home is. Her glowing face that’s now focused on my direction once in a while drifting further to stare at the Tomb Mboya estate buildings beyond and farther into the direction of Milimani where her current life revolves around.

“Both my children are now with me where I live. It was difficult to leave with both of them together so I left with the one I knew he had no claims over and when the time was right I took the younger one too,” she explained.

“How did things get here?” I asked.

“You see Daniel,” she began explaining. It’s very rare that I get people referring to me with my first name. At times I even forget that I am called Daniel. Nobody calls me that even in the office, but I guess because Mitchelle and I have not crossed paths before It was very proper to be that formal.

“I was a loyal wife to my husband. I had had a life before we met but the moment we decided to get married and raise a family I went all in. I gave up a lot of things for the sake of this relationship, but Dave did not see that as good enough”, she continued.

Mitchelle says that her husband started cheating soon after the birth of their son. There are weekends he claimed he could not come home but would be seen with young college girls in town. She had even on several occasions caught him with other girls when he was pretending to be out of town.

She says Dave would always apologize and swear never to do it again. He would shower her with gifts and pay for trips to Dubai for her and the kids. His apologies would most of the time work – I mean which woman would not want to go shopping in Dubai?

Mitchelle, however, felt that she was being taken for a ride because Dave did not change his ways.

“I already had two children from different men. Where was I going to leave and go with these children?”

Mitchelle says she talked to her friends about it. They asked her to stay put, mostly because Dave was taking care of all their bills. He wasn’t physically abusive either. One of her close friends became much closer during this time, and she would confide in her for everything.

“She had a broken marriage. She had had these experiences, and I benefited a lot from the wisdom that came with her age and experience. She was also very understanding and caring. The sort of person I was free enough to cry in her arms,” she explains.

“One thing led to another and we just naturally found ourselves entangled in a romantic situation. I had kissed girls before – in my campus day. They say ‘women know their way around the bodies of women better’ and here I was sacrificing my pleasure for a guy who treated me like trash when there was someone who could really make me happy in every way I would imagine.”

I ask her if she still thought Dave and she had a future.

“The only future between us is as co-parents. I do not intend to keep our son away from him. As far as our marriage is concerned, it’s a done deal. He should blame himself for it because it’s him who drove me into another woman’s arms.’

When they have to meet, they do not do it where she lives with her kids.

Cover image courtesy of pexels.com.

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If you looked at us from a different angle you would think we were on a date. Especially if you could not see Daisy’s face.

I am sure the know-it-alls were already manufacturing stories of me cheating with this woman. If you already heard the story from the rumor mill, I am sorry. In Kisumu, a man and a woman cannot just sit together and talk. Try it if you doubt me.

Anyway, this is what was happening:

We sat at a table closest to the lounge area (yes the cream couches) at Roan Restaurant and Bar. It was a few minutes past two o’clock on a Monday. I had preferred a late lunch meeting because Mondays are usually my meeting days at the office. On this Monday my boss was around and the status meeting had taken longer than usual because we were “setting the tone for the new year.”

Daisy was moving the fork around her plate of fries with honey glazed pork chops but seemingly without the intention to push anything in the direction of her mouth. She had barely taken a sip of the cold Fanta orange she had ordered. With Kisumu heat, I doubt it was still cold.

I smiled at her, trying to reassure her that it was alright. You know at times we writers can be very intimidating. You might think you are ready to open up but when you see the little red light from the IC recorder come on you freeze and start wondering if it’s all necessary.

A streak of tears started rolling down her perfectly made-up face. I quickly handed her a napkin. She tried a difficult smile.

“I am so sorry, I did not know it was going to be this difficult,” she said as she tried to avoid direct eye contact with me. Her gaze held in the direction of Imperial Express Hotel behind me.

“Do not worry, there is no rush. We don’t even have to do this today or do it at all,” I said trying to calm her down.

She finally started eating her food. I was worried it’s got a little cold but she seemed to be enjoying it. I was midway through my ugali -matumbo. I must say I have enjoyed matumbo at very few places in Kisumu. The most legendary one is at Cosmos in Car Wash, then there is the Tumaini matumbo and then this one at Roan. So, after all, Dave Ngiri Odira does not scream about it for nothing.

She cleared her plate. Took a huge sip of her Fanta then excused herself to go to the ladies. When she came back she was different. Ready to talk. Not sure what happened in between but ‘this Daisy’ was ready to bare it all.

I clicked record…the red light came on and she began.

“I have given this man the best bit of my life. Given him two lovely boys, been the Proverbs 31 woman. I have supported him in all he does, even sacrificing my own career for him. Then this is how he pays me,” she says putting her left index finger on a black scar just beneath her eyes.

I had not noticed it before, perhaps because of her well-done makeup or the fact that I was avoiding too much eye contact trying not to make her uncomfortable.

Daisy has been kicked out of her house by her husband. She has spent the last three days living with her friend who has been so generous.

When she was kicked out she took nothing with her other than the clothes she had on and slippers she found outside the door.

Her friend had been kind enough to buy her a few clothes because they don’t really wear the same size of clothes. She had also given her an old phone she no longer uses – a Samsung Note 6. Other friends her size had brought more clothes.

Daisy says that her husband has been both physically and emotionally abusive. He would hit her for no apparent reason. She says initially he was a perfect gentleman but somewhere along the line, he started drinking a little too much.

At times when he came home late from a drinking spree he would hit her for taking too long to open the door – never mind he had a key of his own. He would apologize the following morning and swear using his dead mother’s name never to lay a finger on her again.

He would give her money to go shopping for herself and the kids. He would buy more gifts and flowers until he stopped feeling guilty. Then there will be another incident. The apology process would be as if it was scripted, precise as a surgeon’s scalpel.

I ask her why she stayed.

“Dan, my husband was a good man. He worked hard. I wanted to help him, I prayed for him every day. I fasted. I wanted my children to have a perfect family.”

Daisy’s husband started spending the weekends away. Every time she asked about it she was given a proper beating. Her own kids feared for her. To be at peace she stopped asking. The lavish apologies ended too.

He would come home with clothes he did not leave with. She also realized that some of his clothes went missing. At first, she blamed the house help but he soon realized that it was his husband taking them away. When asked he would say he is taking them to the village but she soon realized that they were not at the village. At times he would come back from his weekend trips wearing them.

It was now obvious he had another woman. She confronted him about it and he bluntly told her he can have as many women as he can afford.

That was not all, he started paying their kids’ school fees late. He gave her less money for the house. There are times she did not pay the help for two months. He also stayed away even during weekdays, at times for weeks on end.

Daisy says she held on for the kids. She could not imagine what she would do if she were to move out. She has not worked for five years. Her husband had convinced her to leave her job. Her parents were struggling, they couldn’t help her with anything. Her friends told her to hang in there.

“They told me to do everything I can to avoid confrontations with her. Dan, I felt worse than a doormat. I envied people who even though were poor, they had happier lives. I was being emotionally and physically abused. I was never this thin, my bones had flesh on them. I was a pretty girl with glowing skin but look at me now.”

I wanted to say she is still beautiful or that she has a beautiful heart but I wondered if that would have been appropriate. So I just kept quiet and listened to her speak.

Daisy says the weekend before she was thrown out she had traveled to Nairobi for a job interview. Her husband did not know about it, she had lied to him that she was going to the village to see her parents. She was planning to secretly get out with the kids.

Unfortunately, her husband got wind that she was seen at the airport in Nairobi when she was coming back. She found him waiting for him at the airport in Kisumu.

As they drove home he wanted to know who was the guy she was cheating on him with. She had to come clean, there was no way she was going to let him think she is cheating. She pleaded with him to understand during the short trip home and when all failed she started praying.

“I cried to my God. I asked him to get inside my husband’s heart. I prayed for him to intervene in our marriage.”

She says she doesn’t know if her prayers were ignored or were answered indirectly. That evening she was beaten like never before. She says she remembers the kids wailing. It was raining so the neighbors could not even come to help. She was then dragged and thrown outside. The kids were also beaten into silence.

Her friend took her to Kondele Police station to record a statement. As we sat at Roan the husband was still threatening her demanding that she withdraws the assault charges.

She had been told a woman had moved into her house.

I asked her what next and she says she will keep praying till a miracle happens.

It’s now two months since a miracle happened. Daisy now works at a hospital in Nairobi. A Kisumu court granted her custody of the children. The husband was also ordered to pay school fees for a school of a similar standard to the one the kids went to in Kisumu.

Daisy is hoping to conclude her divorce by the end of the year.

Featured image courtesy of pexels.com

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In my line of work, we are trained to be very sensitive about private meetings. I wasn’t sure if this “sensitive” stuff was about work or a personal issue. Either way, I was not going to take chances.

Dave was my boy, the kind of boy who would generously contribute to the M-Changa funeral kitty if I were to die. He would drive up with my other boys to The Ranch the evening before my burial and stay awake till morning telling stories as they sip 21- year old single malt whiskey. None of the conversations would be about me or the two distraught women I am leaving behind. Perhaps they would talk about their friend who has merged his law firm with another British firm, maybe about the other friend’s new Mercedes-AMG C 63′ Sedan teasing him about where he would drive such a low car. The other friend who is bewitched with SUVs will tell him he has just bought himself an expensive women’s car, that real men drive V8s and Range Rover Sports. He would swear to take the car back to the dealership on Monday. They will talk about the weather, wonder if they will get stuck in the morning if the skies make good their threat to open up. They will talk about Olivia’s short dress. Heck one will even have a theory that Olivia and I used to date – that would be the only reference to me in their conversation.

That is how close I and Dave were before this day. At least what I thought of it. We have never had a one on one meeting. We have shared a daram at Barcadia, sheltered under the main dais at Kisumu Showground when the skies opened up after a rugby match, we had shared a bottle of whiskey at a wake for the dad of a mutual acquaintance.

It was getting darker, I had said I would be home by 7 PM but it was now 7.15 PM and Dave had not opened up.

I was about to ask to see him another time when he looked over his shoulders on both sides before lowering his head with his eyes locked into mine. It was as if he wanted to see through my soul as he poured his heart out. They say someone’s eyes are the windows into his soul.

We were seated at a corner at the Buzz Bar at Acacia Hotel. If you ask me it’s one of the most private spaces in this town.

You know a man is about to say something extremely important when he looks over his shoulder to see if someone is watching or listening. Just that this time Dave did not have to. Behind him was nothing but the wall paneling. He still looked through – not once but over both shoulders. I guess it was reflex.

But that did not surprise me as the words that came out of his mouth next.
“Dan, Mitchell* is cheating on me.” He paused for a moment, perhaps to see how I would react to it. Maybe trying to figure out if I had heard anything about it.

I did not know how to react or what to say. You know when a fellow man comes up to you and tells you their wife is cheating, it has taken them a lot of courage. This is a conversation a man would rather have with his close woman friend. Not their boy unless they are accusing you. No, he was not thinking I had anything to do with it. At least I became sure of that when he uttered the next sentence after the ten-second pause that seemed to have lasted a century.

“With another woman.”

I did not know how to react when someone tells me their wife is cheating, leave alone cheating with another woman. I had heard tales of women in Kisumu having secret sex parties but had always dismissed it as the usual idle talk of social media. I have never been the one to take things I see or read on social media too seriously. Most importantly, I have learned to mind my own business.

Dave has a job I would describe as a ‘good job’ by all standards. He is mostly stationed out of town but he is always around on weekends. Hangs out at Barcadia and Roan once in a while. His wife has an equally good job at a bank. She is mostly in Kisumu unless for the few times she travels with the girls or when she is going on vacation with her two kids. She does not go to Barcadia or Roan – maybe Aqua Bar at Acacia for a glass of wine with the girls on a Friday.

They own their Kisumu house. Their two kids go to a private school most Kisumu parents in their income range take their kids to. Dave pays for both their fees even though the first kid is not his. The wife had him before they met, and when he decided to love her, he loved her with everything she came with.

Dave does not describe himself as a saint. He has had a few rendezvous. He has been caught a dozen times but he says it was just meaningless sex with these ‘young bloods.’ His wife had cheated too – I mean, they were a typical Kisumu family.

This, as I came to learn, was different. His wife had not just cheated but left him. Left him for another woman. Left with the son she came with. She did not care about their son or maybe she did not just want to fight over custody knowing how well connected Dave is with the city’s best lawyers.
He says they had been good for a long time. She seemed happy, nothing seemed off other than the numerous trips with the girls. In the photos from the trips, he had seen that his wife was particularly close with one woman. He knew her. She had been to their home a couple of times, both when he was home and when he was away. As far as he was concerned she was her best friend.

The woman was divorced. She had got a beautiful mansion in Milimani from her ex-husband as part of the divorce settlement. The husband had kept the children. Once in a while, she visited them in Nairobi.
Dave did not know her ex-husband. She came into their lives after she was divorced.

Dave became only curious when one of her wife’s lady friends told him his wife was having an affair. She did not divulge the details but since Dave knew this particular friend had been interested in him before he took it with a pinch of salt.

He, however, thought about it more. To confirm this he decided to buy his wife a pre-valentines gift. A brand new iPhone Xs. His wife was not so good with gadgets so she asked him to set it up for her. He went through those processes iPhone owners go through when setting up their expensive gadgets giving it to her every time it required a password or when it asked him to set the device password. She could not suspect anything, but in the process, Dave downloaded one of those phone spy apps you can buy online for $10.

Interestingly, the makers of these spy apps say on their websites that the apps are ” intended for legal uses ONLY. It is a violation of the law to install surveillance software onto a mobile phone you do not have the right to monitor.”

Fact is they know that most people are not using the apps to spy on their children but rather on their spouses and Dave here was one of them.
Over the next four days, Dave would uncover things that shook every single thing he believed about his wife. The affair had been going on for over three years under his nose. The friendship he thought was normal was a little more than that. They had had sexcapades or whatever it is women who sleep with each other had even on their very bed. They professed their love for each other on WhatsApp texts calling each other “wifey.”
Dave would not take it anymore, on the fifth day he came home and confronted his wife of ten years. She did not even deny it. She became livid, asking what right he had to spy on her phone. She threatened to sue him for breach of privacy. She was screaming hysterically. She went to the bedroom, packed a few bags banged the sitting room door and walked to her car, started the engine and drove off. She did not go far, she came back three minutes later like she had forgotten something. Dave, the kids, and their house help were still standing confused in the sitting room. She walked straight to the kids’ room without saying a word. Packed her first son’s clothes, came down the stairs and dragged him by the arm to the car and drove off. That was the last time Dave saw either of them. It was now three weeks.

I asked him “how can I help?” Like the doctor from New Amsterdam – the medical drama series.

Dave opened the sling bag that hung across his chest from the left shoulder. He took out an envelope and slid it across the table towards me. Inside it was a bundle of cash. I did not count but from how it looked must have been Ksh. 100,000. There was a flash drive too.

He knew I was a blogger and he wanted me to help him expose the woman who had stolen his wife.

I Instantly slid the envelope back to him. I told him I can’t. I saw his broad shoulders shrink. Perhaps he thought that if I exposed this woman his wife would have no choice but to come back to him. He looked like he was ready to forgive her, but he also looked like he wasn’t ready to admit that another woman would steal his wife from under his very nose.

As Kisumu people would say ‘atatembea wapi?‘ His boys would never look at him the same way. Drinking with him would be like wasting fine whiskey. What good is a man who loses his woman to another woman?
He stared at me as if to plead. I felt his pain.

” I can’t begin to imagine what is going on in your head. I am really sorry Dave, but I have a policy of only using my blogs to either build people or make people care about certain things. I cannot use that same platform for something like this.”

It was now way past 8 PM, I paid both our bills and excused myself. My women were now worried because it’s unlike me to get home late on a weekday.

That evening I drove home with my car stereo off – very unlike me. I could not help but think about Dave and his son and what they were currently going through.

Featured image courtesy of Adobe Stock.

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