Single Story.

Not every "something" kills a man, some heal while others change a man entirely. Perhaps they realize on their deathbed of their forthcoming, sometimes it is too late, and they are already delineated with scars, scars that reflect what one has been through. Sometimes I wonder, what if scars are really who we are?

Almost a month since I last set foot in the garage. I've been busy chasing the bag elsewhere, one full of books though. I had missed the guys and their flare for melodrama. Whenever I visit them, I'm always sure to find two or so new faces. It's the Jua kali world, sometimes the sun becomes too hot for the gentle-skinned with no sunscreen layer so they have to seek some shades and are immediately replaced with the tough-skinned ones. Yeah, I'm also doing a memory check to see if I've ever seen a light-skinned mechanic literally. Have you?

 Always the oiled Otienos' rights. I mean, dark perhaps melanin-rich ones is more gentle?

I'm always the "professor" whenever I walk in. A mix of collage and Juakali, most never got the side of collage, just the hot scorching sun, so I share with them a couple of stuff I learn on the other side. They are always in awe, of the women on the campus, they never seem to get enough of the tales. It's hard to believe that the ladies also drink keg just like them there. Always fun watching the new faces stare and wonder about the nicely dressed peasant. Professor, the old lads, would shout, can we get an overall you jump in? We want to unmount the engine. I always answer with a big, yes, to grow their curiosity.

My main reason was to check on a friend, a typical case of the rain beating the leopard's skin but never scrapping off the spots. He is a very gentle lad, but he never seems like it from the looks. He peddles water around south B, he' s the aqua man supplying most of the garages and kiosks in the shopping centre. He's pretty energetic as well pulling almost twenty jars by himself in his cart, though with a dramatic face that got me wondering why he wouldn't just get a partner to make it easy and share the spoils at the end of the day. I had to feed my curiosity, or as I like putting it before I judge a man, I always want to walk a mile in his shoes, so when I do it, I'm a mile away and with his boots, haha.

The closest person to ask about Ongachi was my cousin, yes, that's his name I think if not Ogachi, and you can quickly tell with his machi for Maji. Sometimes he adds gwacha nikuletee machi. They'd known each other for a while, and they used to stay together in the ghetto before he was sent in and my cousin moved out. He was framed, as he always says. He's a chilled man, as he used to be back then I don't think the walls changed him. That was my cousin. So I figured out the best way to get his side of the story, maybe the real one was to talk to him.

After a few months of marinating him into his trusted friend, with genuine intentions! It's always admirable when you see a man work so hard on his own. So is the saying when you want to go faster you go alone but You should do it with a team if you want to go far so I wanted to know what he was in a hurry to, what he was trying to catch up with, faster and on his own.

He started with small talk about it, constantly reminding me that he had made peace with the past and had forgiven all the wrongs done to him. All he wanted was to get his life back and in order. He was determined to do it at all costs and always said it with a happy relaxed face. Indeed teeth never see poverty, he maintained his smile though, with a couple of missing teeth, the remaining ones were whiter than white, and the dark gap in between made it look like a little zebra crossing for words with "S" like thmoke, thmile between some bumpy lips, dry from the heaving breathing on the hot sun. Of course, with time, we started teasing each other, and I had mastered the "th" in place of "s."

In some cases, you have no voice at all, my friend. If I advise you never to settle for just looks, I know that the essential everyone has been told that, but in search of a character, you need to be more cautious for it takes time to know the real ones, unfortunately for me, I learned the hard way.

 He finally did open up one day. It was heavily raining, and he had to shelter himself at our place. 

It's always lazying time or happy hours to relieve some back pains when its rains. Seated going through some videos, a funny court session one to be specific. It seemed to have triggered a part of him, evoked a memory he had inside him. The pain on his face mirrored his chest for what is in the chest is hidden in a cave no one can know. He at first seemed to be ready to launch a tirade but broke it with a joke, though with a deadpan. He had an excellent hold of the Queen's tongue;

What is a prisoner's favourite punctuation? 

I didn't know of course, so I smiled.

A period. 

Because it marks the end of a sentence.

He had me. I agreed as I busted out my genuine innocence of knowledge.

I never got a fair trial, man, I was innocent. Not that it matters to you, but so you know. It's just that our system is still messed up, and it's unfortunate, if you don't have a name, at least with that, things are always taken seriously.  You are guilty till proven innocent, I couldn't fight hard, and I didn't even know how to express myself. I was given a state attorney, and you know them, they also want something to take your case seriously. I had nothing, so he mumbled lots of useless English, and I ended up behind bars for almost six years.

 I learned the language there in my second or third year. If you are lucky enough, you get an easy life. I was

hardworking and skilled in building furniture for the top officials, never complained when receiving my two-shilling payment at the end of the week. I had more privileges than those two coins could ever afford. Some people take their lives, others are married from the day they set their feet inside. it's hell, brother, you're lucky not to test the depth of those waters with both feet, so learn from me.

It was around midday, and I was busy at my station, close to the Bounty hotel. The police Land Rover parked in front of my shop, and the men in blue uniforms jumped out, faces focused on me. I couldn't figure out what I had done, and before I embarked from that land, I was in the back of the Land Rover, handcuffed, and I could tell I had done the most brutal act from the look on their faces. No one responded when I inquired about my dramatic arrest. Later a voice came from the co-driver's seat "ni wewe unanajisi watoto wadogo, utakipata." I was surprised enough that I couldn't even deny the charges at that moment, and I'm sure they took my silence as admittance to the crime. 

Within a few days, I was in court. I saw my wife take a stand as she coldly admitted that she wasn't able to tell if I was innocent of the charges. We had had arguments, from me buying a piece of land without informing her about it, to starting the construction of our small home at Imara Daima, that I had a college fund account for our young daughter, the now victim I had molested. I'm not an animal, brother. I was never in the house on the dated crime day, and no one bothered to ask such questions, not even my attorney. She got custody of our daughter, and all my properties were transferred into her name, including my shop. I was sent in for fifteen years with no solid evidence, but with such cases, and to top it when you have no name, you are always guilty till proven innocent.

He continued and with every single word that came out of his mouth, I became quiet; I could see the pain in his eyes, the loss in his voice as he maintained his zebra-crossing smile. 

Six years later the case wa reopened, by the grace of God, my case was a study sample for the criminal investigation department at a local university. God bless you guys, not all of you, though. Some of you are stubborn but you still deserve the blessings though, he broke into a small laugh and a long smile. I see your friends from the KIMC School and the kind of life they lead; you need the blessings!

My case had so many unanswered questions and gaps to fill that it raised a lot of concern, and I had to go through a trial again. After investigating, I was exonerated. The investigating team concluded that it was hard for the offence to have occurred in a single room on a Sunday with my wife inside, as she had claimed back then. There were no tissue samples done on the kid. All had been based on her word and the mother's support. She later confessed that she was just scared of the punishment for being late to school and then went silent. The teacher never took her time to understand; she raised the alarm of child abuse over the weekend. I believe she was coached by the mother, too, and I stood no chance.

I was ready to do my sentence, almost halfway through when some light came through and I needed no happy ending, just a new beginning, not to dwell on where I did fall but instead just where I slipped perhaps more pushed. 

It's hard to fit back. I lost a family, hard enough is I lost a daughter. I'm sure she never understood what was happening. she was just an accomplice to a false plot she knew nothing about. Sometimes I wonder what she's told whenever she asks about me. She knew me well,  my favourite, the only child. From her soft hair and soft skin, she had a bright smile the most I remember about her. I've never tried looking for her. I want to work on myself, I made my peace, and everything eventually came to light. I'll give it its time. But I do miss her.

Some people believed me, especially your brother and some mates I was with that afternoon. Things didn't add up to them either, but we had no names. Their prejudice allows me not to be the man I was assumed to be and perhaps a bitter one or hurt from experience. I can become whatever I want and wish; in charge of my life, a fighter, a new seed germinating through hard rocks to see the light again, grow tall enough to provide shades and later bare fruits for others to enjoy.

I love my cart and push it with passion, for this is where I want to start, and I know what patience and hard work can do, I'm going to bet on that. I'll get back on my feet one day. But be cautious with whom you choose to settle down with and always be on the lookout, for people change, and you can never know all about a person what is in their heart is in a cave no man can reach.

Minutes later, after the rain had stopped and the roads were already flooding, he was pulling up his trouser. I guess he had also made peace with his shoes getting wet as he dragged his cart but not his trouser. He was handed some mud boots, my cousin had an extra pair, and it was amazing to see his face light up with joy. As he wended his way through the flooded road. I was struck with a troubled soul, and all that was coming out of my mind was to hell with marriages, bachelor for life. Of course, it's not only at weddings that you can get rained on, but it was suitable for a start.

I never got to see him, he had travelled upcountry to lay to rest his close friend. I was happy he had friends or still had made some. I needed to tell him I was planning on doing a piece about him and if he was cool with it to confirm whether his name was Ongachi, what I called him, or Ogachi. Hope you've noticed, we've not yet met so Ongachi will do. I have an edit button...