If you've read my previous story, you know what life was like in Land Mawe's chapati bedroom. So after my first salary bump, I felt Land Mawe was no longer good enough for a person of my caliber and upgraded immediately. Many young people do the same - often too soon.
Where next? My school was in South C, so I figured I'd save money on fare and avoid traffic jams. I could also do private tuitions late into the night without worrying about matatus closing business before I was done. There were no bodabodas back then - I don't remember seeing any - or Uber and other conveniences we enjoy today.
South C was moving from middle class to... expensive. I'm not sure there's a social class called "expensive," but South C was. Damn expensive.
Back then, there were rumors about money from pirated ships in the Gulf of Somalia being hoarded there - if you remember. Rumors, like the current ones that money from Kenya’s Northern Frontier is invested in South C. There's always a rumor about South C.
So I was competing for housing with well-to-do folks, most of them from the Somali community. But luckily, I got one. Near 5 Star Estate.
A cool servant's quarter at the corner of a big compound. The owner's house was on the left. There was a mango tree next to my house and lush green lawn. I'm not sure such houses exist in South C today - there must be a 16-story building replacement by now.
That night I bid my Land Mawe landlord goodbye, as well as my chapati friend Ben, they were both disappointed. For whatever reason - maybe I was both a tenant and a watchman.
As my world was small, a mkokoteni (handcart) was enough to transport my items - actually just some clothes, a mattress, a sufuria or two, and a kerosene stove that I hadn't used in ages thanks to the free electricity in Land Mawe.
Off we left, with my mkokoteni, to the big South C. I finally felt like a big boy in the city.
Believe you me, when I arrived, the landlord immediately refunded my rent and deposit, sent me off, and said with a Somali/Arabic accent: "Mwenyezi Mungu akusaidie." (May God help you.)
And He did.
As I left, I wondered - was it the mkokoteni? There were no movers back then, and even if pickup trucks existed, I literally had nothing. Hire a pickup for two sufurias? I remember the landlady's pitying look as the landlord sent me away - almost apologetic
So I started moving from house to house, those with "Vacant/To Let" posters, with my whole world in the mkokoteni. The mkokoteni guy was so shocked he didn't even scale up his fees.
From the looks we got from South C people, they probably thought we were garbage collectors or scrap metal dealers.
I would tell my mkokoteni guy to stay 50 meters away as I inquired about houses, to avoid a repeat of what had happened.
By around 3 pm, we'd found a house.
To my new landlady's amazement, I brought my belongings almost immediately after she received the money. Strictly cash.
"Did you live nearby?" she asked.
I smiled.
Next set: This landlady, her house in Mugoya, and my kerosene stove.
Wait. 😂
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