“Intruder! Intruder! Hurry before he flees!" A middle aged, plump, short woman shouted. Her hands covered her corn rowed head as she raised the alarm.
“Mother...please stop screaming! It was a mistake, please, forgive me!" Her naked and embarrassed 17-year-old daughter pleaded. She shamefully hunched behind her naked and terrified dark skinned lover.
"Ma...ma...madam please! They will kill me! Please...Please...stop it!" He begged her in an unusually shaky and petrified voice. He fumbled with his jeans and T-shirt when he heard commotion outside the shanty. The rumbling outside grew louder as neighbours rushed towards the scene, some armed with machetes, clubs and homemade pistols.
“What is it?" A bloodshot-eyed young man in a blue vest demanded. Clutched in his right hand was a long, rusty crowbar.
“I’ve found a filthy Luo boy naked with my daughter!” She wailed as she gestured towards her shanty, where the two fear stricken lovers hid.
Two inebriated young men angrily struck the corrugated iron sheet walls with their razor sharp machetes. “Get him out right now!” They fumed. The distressed woman pushed the door but it was bolted shut. She tried pushing it but the wooden door did not budge.
“Step aside," a tall and burly man ordered her.
He took two steps back then rushed towards the door, channeled his momentum down his right leg and kicked ruthlessly. The wooden door snapped off the upper hinges but it still blocked the entrance. The man stepped back then landed a powerful and decisive flying kick that knocked the door completely off its rusty hinges. Wanjiru, the seventeen year old, short and plump daughter screamed in distress when the livid crowd stormed in and snatched Danson from her arms. They kicked, punched, spat and slapped the hapless 19-year-old Luo, sadly hosted at the wrong place at the wrong time. Hot tears rolled down her smooth cheeks and her sobbing grew louder as she watched her infuriated tribesmen frog marching her forbidden lover towards the dumpsite.
"Who are you?" Wanjiru's mother demanded and grabbed Danson by his t-shirt collar.
“I...I...was...ju...just visiting Peninah. I...I...meant no harm."
The large and irate man who kicked down the door immediately sent a straight callous fist at the victim's protruding cheekbone. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"
Danson rubbed his swollen and throbbing cheekbone. There was a high pitch noise ringing inside his left ear.
“My...my...name is Danson. I was...was... just paying Peninah a friendly visit," he stuttered in a quirky, high-pitched voice. A warm streak of unexpected urine flowed down both his trembling legs.
“Shame on you! You stupid boy!" Wanjiru's furious mother suddenly showered Danson's face with a flurry of hard-hitting slaps. “I found this filthy Jaluo naked with my daughter!" She seethed.
Her words flung poor Danson from the crowd's frying pan into the unforgiving and scorching Kikuyu fire. A series of gasps escaped the mouths of swarming onlookers. Crowbars, clubs and other crude weapons descended heavily on the unwanted visitor. A cloud of dust ascended above the commotion in the scorching afternoon sun.
“Stop it! Stop it! I ...I...am not a Jaluo. I'm a Kisii,” he screamed. The Kisii tribe was one of the few tribes that openly supported the controversial and resented Kikuyus.
He screamed louder in unimaginable agony until he managed to get the livid and bloodthirsty crowd's attention.
"Can you repeat what you've just said," The towering ringleader ordered with a stern voice, while grabbing the bleeding and battered young man by his neck.
"I swear on my mother's life that I’m a Kisi i. I swear!" He wailed as blood spewed down his deeply torn lower lip. He strained maintaining his swollen black eyes open despite the excruciating pain that surged round his banged up orbital sockets.
" If you really are a Kisii, then take off your trouser right now."
Danson blinked nervously and a streak of fear ran down his body, causing him to tremble uncontrollably. The ringleader waved his right hand impatiently towards him, "Come on! We don't have all day! What are you waiting for?"
The incensed mob drew closer, eyes widened with anticipation as poor Danson slowly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his blood stained faded blue jeans. He was about to reach for his boxer shorts but the impatient ringleader grabbed him and did the honours.
His shriveled uncircumcised member instantly betrayed him in front of his foes.
“You think we are really stupid, don't you?" The ringleader broke into cynical laughter then placed his right hand on Danson's bloody neck.
“Son of a bitch!" An intoxicated, skinny teenager lunged forward and swung his rusty crowbar towards Danson. An audible and sickening snap was heard as Danson fell to the dust. He cupped both hands protectively around his bloody nose and curled into a fetal position.
“Get up and taste our wrath!" The men barked as they kicked and stomped him down. Danson had no choice and he rose in a wobbly manner, blindly grabbing onto his attackers as he tried to balance himself.
His broken and profusely bleeding crooked nose was awkwardly bent towards the left. He had to gasp for air like a drowning man.
The battered Luo suddenly felt two men restraining his arms. Before he comprehended what was happening, he was up in the air then without warning, the men slammed him to the ground so hard that he was certain he had broken a couple of ribs. Two other men spread his legs wide open.
“No...no...please forgive me! Have mercy on me!"
"Shut up!" The burly ringleader smacked Danson on his head using the flat side of his machete.
The crowd cheered sadistically when their hero pulled out a four-inch long black penknife from his boot. He smiled smugly as he grabbed the enemy's penis and stretched out his foreskin on the dirt.
"Please...please...." tears rolled down Danson's face. His swollen and battered eyes almost popped.
It was a swift cut and the ethnic crowd went ecstatic when their leader proudly displayed Danson's foreskin. Bright red blood quickly pooled around the victim as he hollered in agony. As if he hadn't had his fair share of troubles, the crowd forced him up on his wobbly feet and took him to the main road where Steve and his gang stood guard.
Steve Ndegwa struck a matchstick and lit a joint. He inhaled deeply through his closed teeth to push the smoke deeper into his lungs then exhaled a thick, pungent white smoke.
"There they are," one of the gang members in a blue T-shirt with the letters P.N.U boldly printed in white, pointed towards an oncoming large group.
It was around 7PM but the fading golden rays of sunlight illuminated the vast ghetto valley. A half moon on the opposite side of the sky became brighter as dusk graduated into night. As the group drew closer towards their barrier, Steve and his gang stood alert.
“Good evening my friend. We have come here in peace and brought you what we agreed," Owino stepped forward and gestured to the handcart covered with brown burlap bags.
Steve nodded in approval and the Luo pulling the handcart was granted entry through the Kikuyu barrier. Steve's men tossed aside the burlap bags and spotted two large sacks. One of them ripped open the sacks and several weed stones, each the size of a large tissue roll spilled on the ground.
"I'd like to see the lady," Owino requested.
Steve took out his cell phone, made a brief phone call in Kikuyu then shoved it back into his jeans. A skinny man wearing a blue cap with white P.N.U initials appeared ten minutes later with Lois beside him. She instantly ran towards her tribesmen while wiping her runny nose and wet eyes with her hands. Fresh tears of relief rolled down her cheeks when she was a couple of meters away from the heavily guarded barrier.
" Stop!" Steve suddenly grabbed her right hand and pulled her towards him. She desperately tried to break free through frantic kicking and slapping but her offense was flimsy. He grabbed her throat and squeezed until she unwillingly surrendered and began sobbing.
“Hey! We had a deal! Stop choking her!" Owino stepped forward.
Steve hurled her to the ground and ordered his men to restrain her. He moved closer to the barrier, looked Owino straight into his bulging eyes and asked, “Where did you get such a huge amount of marijuana within a very short time?
Owino frowned and replied, “Weren’t you the one who asked for it? Don't we all know that Mathare's weed supply comes from my community?"
"You haven't answered me. I think you just stuffed ordinary grass and leaves to fool me."
"We will stand here until your men confirm it's all genuine," Owino replied.
"If they are indeed genuine, tell your men to surrender their guns to me right now."
Owino's eyebrows shot up through his dark furrowed forehead in surprise. His foot soldiers immediately stood alert ready for combat. The pot bellied Luo elder sighed while shaking his head and said, “That isn't possible. I am telling the truth."
“Take that filthy Luo back to my house and lock the door from outside!" Steve arrogantly gestured at Lois with his right palm. She was the only leverage he had against the angry Luos.
“Why are you being unreasonable?" Owino exclaimed. There were shouts of unison from his fellow tribesmen.
“Will you surrender your guns or not?"
He glanced around and realized they were outnumbered and had slim to none chances of overpowering Steve's gang in case they decided to open fire.
“We will surrender,” he reluctantly agreed.
There was hushed murmuring among his foot soldiers, obviously hesitant towards the unwise decision. Four Kikuyu men armed with AK-47s collected 26 loaded pistols and rifles. All the Luos had left were concealed machetes and penknives. The two men inspecting the sacks were almost through.
“Release her. Your men are almost done inspecting the ganja," Owino said to Steve.
“Are you through?" Steve turned to his men. They nodded in unison.
“Go through them again," he ordered them to everyone's surprise.
Steve spotted a bright pair of yellow headlights about 50 metres behind the Luo men. A second pair trailed closely behind. The yellow headlights became brighter as they drew closer on the wide dusty avenue that led to the Kikuyu domain. Owino smelled a huge rat once the two large blue Lorries grinded to a halt, sandwiching him and his men between the unpredictable enemy's camp and the two blue mechanical beasts. A hundred young men aged 16-30 hopped out from the Lorries' back each armed with either a G3 rifle or an AK-47. They quickly rushed towards the tensed Luos and cocked their guns.
“Hands in the air. Right now!" One of the armed men ordered.
Owino's men obeyed however when they turned around, they were shocked to see the Kikuyus pointing their guns at them too.
“Move towards the lorry!" Steve raised his pistol and pressed the muzzle against Owino's forehead.
One by one, Owino's soldiers jumped inside and were handcuffed in pairs. Steve wore a haughty smile as he strode past the barrier and shook hands with the armed men. He ordered his men to load one of the sacks full of Owino's high-grade weed into the back of the lorry. The ambushed Luos recognized the armed men's accents as members of Meru and Embu ethnic communities. Just like the Kikuy u, they also hailed from the slopes of Mount Kenya and were staunch supporters of their power hungry cousins. What Owino didn't know was how Steve set up the ambush so fast.
Steve and his men waved at the Lorries as they sped off in the opposite direction. He cleared his throat and his fellow gang members hushed down immediately.
“We will attack the rest of those uncircumcised fools tomorrow at five in the morning," he declared.
“Boss, we can't do it tomorrow because they will probably be expecting us now that Owino and their soldiers are gone,” a 20-year-old man wearing a blue P.N.U T-shirt countered politely.
"Yes we can," Steve turned to him while nodding his head confidently.
APPRECIATION
I’m glad you enjoyed reading this anthology. Spare a couple of minutes to read a preview of my crime drama ebook titled Deported.
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