Sometimes certain phrases or words seem to resonate more with the ‘others’ than you. You never associate your life with them. Terms like Nairoberry happen to other people who share this sometimes flourishing as well as depressing city. The act of visiting a police station to report a crime seems so detached it’s almost laughable. Then the cracks. You lose your phone every few months in unclear circumstances but you do not consider this a crime. After all everybody has lost a phone, either snatched in the C.B.D or a simple misplacement. It’s a way of life. You go ahead and buy another one, a cheap android until you save up for the next Lumia or Iphone. It’s funny that this cheap replacement is the one that never gets stolen and it’s always there to bail you out after the big one is gone. This happens and the huge spinning circle that is the city continues with the movement.
The cracks widen unexpectedly. At the beginning of last month my backpack which contained a tablet, a laptop and a few books was snatched at Ngara. The notorious, noisy, free for all location. It was all too sudden and bewildering that by the time I came to my senses and adrenaline snapped the chaps were already across the busy highway. I could not even give a chase. I stood there transfixed and watching as my property disappeared in a whiff. I gave myself excuses, as if I was covering for the thieving idiots. The gadgets were already past their sell by date and I was already thinking of replacing them anyway. It just came sooner than I expected. My work was already backed up on Mega, Googledrive, Dropbox and Skydrive. The books? I was sure they were literate chaps, would they read them? Probably not. The sequels of Hunger games, Catching Fire and MockingJay. They had cost me a fortune and they would probably end upon the street to trade for a measly 100/=. If they could only read them. Maybe they would get another outlook on life. They would understand why some districts where unhappy with the capitol, and why it covered up for all its sins. Why it held hunger games to silence the people. They would understand what is happening in Egypt. And maybe, just maybe, they would join us in the next ‘Occupy Parliament’ with the aim of making a change rather than thieving and looting.
Later my thoughts struck me as somewhat stupid. I should have found a way of getting my gadgets back. Not find a way to buy replacements. But that is what happened.
Nearing the end of last month I bought a new laptop and decided to give tablets a wide berth. This was an expensive Alienware machine. This bore the surname of KittyHawk as all my laptops have but this one’s moniker was KittyHawkMonster. A fitting name for the knight. It did cost me a fortune and my resolve was to extremely secure it and work it like a donkey. I hightailed to Google and read on the most fool proof way to secure an Alienware, I promptly did that. I now basked in the glory of this black and colourful jewel. Little did I know that my joy was to be snapped into twigs very shortly.
The last Sunday of the month I woke up, had a hefty breakfast, and made my way to a friend’s place where we were having a meet up. I ended up spending the whole day there due to a little matter of World Of Warcraft. I got home to find that KittyHawkMonster had sprouted some wings during the daytime and flew away. Gaping at the spot where I left him shell shocked I shouted for the gateman to make his way to my apartment. I know I did utter some unlimited number of expletives which would give a nun a fatal heart attack as I sought to know who broke in to my house and made away with my new laptop which was yet to acquire insurance.
The next day I visited a police station in a bid to make sense of what was happening. This nightmare was now crawling in to my day to day life with devastating effects. There is only one little fact I failed to adhere to, and it made all the difference. I refuse to pay for police services when I do so every day with my tax. I did not cough up a bribe to oil their palms and get the investigation wheels moving despite the not too obvious calls of ‘ongea vizuri kijana tusuluishe hii mambo’. I left the station half dejected, half determined man. I knew nothing would be done despite my one to one talk with the O.C.P.D. I knew chances of setting my eyes again on KittyHawkMonster where next to zero. The only comforting fact was that whoever who had it now held a piece of very expensive, ugly or beautiful depending on who is looking at it junk. I had already secured it such that formatting it was completely impossible. They could do with selling the parts. I wished them luck in that.
As I wait for a technician to install spy cameras on my apartment I wonder if I have become too paranoid. I already have a new state of the art lock system. How can I live spying on myself and my guests? Now that I have seen the Nairobi underbelly it’s the price I have to pay.