Sunday, 4 November 2018

Andy Is Crazy Because of Love


Andy is crazy. People say it is because of love. Because he hasn't had a chance to confirm or dismiss the rumours, people believe it's true. 

There are not so many things Andy did when he was young that were those of a model child. He was truant, a thief, and generally someone who had grown immune to parental thumping. At school he wasn’t good at it either. Dropping out of class three, as was suddenly fashionable when one was circumcised, he disappeared from the village for close to a decade.

When he emerged, he was totting a digital camera, taking pictures of villagers who still found it attractive to have themselves printed in paper.  One time I accompanied him in his rounds of delivering the posed moments, frozen in time. We criss-crossed villages, and thankfully were successful in not being bitten by dogs. Other than that, people begged Andy to come another time. We crowned that day with a cup of chang’aa. He had money, a class three dropout, and I a university student, broke as broke can be.

On the way back, he told me stories which entailed who had HIV/Aids in the village. They were all people who we had made acquaintance in my brief stay at the local primary school. He named names, including that of a girl I had my eyes on. We later briefly dated, although we never met. She accepted my advances and left for Mombasa. He told me how Kale men are like currency especially among other tribes. He told about a Kamba chic whom he had managed to impregnate. She has my twins, he had said boastfully.

I would later spot one of the guys who he said was carrying the disease. His face had grown bony, and his hair had adopted a particularly pale and grayish color. His eyes must have began retreating back to its sockets, probably having seen enough already. With all the modesty I can summon, he was carrying death within himself. But then he was with a light skin girl, barely thirteen or fourteen. Being good with faces, I later saw the girl and almost warned her.

Andy left for Nairobi, hitchhiking my father’s car. We had exchanged numbers and promised to look for each other when I got there. I was not in hurry to get to Nairobi. It was pointless to go to campus during the official opening date. You spent a few days doing productive things such as looking after livestock until your classmates tell that they have been given a CAT. Then you would board a plane. And so a month later, I left for Nairobi. We never met with Andy, although he tried reaching me.

Fast forward, I cleared university, went to the village briefly and came back. There was no sign of Andy although I could see that he had erected a house. Nobody told me it belonged to him, it was just a hunch.  He would be in the village when I wasn’t, and I when he wasn’t. This should not be misconstrued that we had any important business. We were just playmates who life had caught up with them.

On that fateful day, I spotted my dad’s car in the compound. I was surprised considering that it was a Wednesday. He always came only on weekends, but then he always showed up when the sun had, observing the ancient ritual passed down by our forefathers. But then the sun was still up. Okay, it had set behind the hills that dotted the horizon, although it had not gone with its light. I did not give much thought to it. I may even have dismissed it with a remark such as ‘some rituals are bound to be broken, especially on Wednesdays.’

In every village, there are people who are always on top of things. They detect unusual activity, even in the wee hours of the night. You will be surprised by statements such ‘naskia unataka kuoa’ yet you could swear by god and sonny Jesus that you have never been seen with a girl, at least in broad daylight. In fact many girls get pregnant without ever having been seen with a man. Holy Spirit, you may say. But these people are in touch with these spirits. Just as Andy’s unusual presence, chauffeured all the way from the city of thugs, by my father, who would have had important things left to commune with office dust for a days.

“He was bringing Andy. He is mad,” my source told. “It seems malaria has climbed to the head,” he had added.

Later, he would tell me his story. Andy had a wife back in the village. She used to bicker with her mother-in-law a lot especially when Andy preferred to deal with his mother when it came to finance. When the bickering escalated, Andy took his wife back to Nairobi, and then came to the village to finalise a few secret things.

As people are prone to diseases, his wife called him that she had fallen sick, and had decided to recuperate among her people. I was not told whether he was aware about the fact that she had already gone to her people or not. My source informed me that he sold his motor bike and left to be with the wife. It was there that he parted with a bill of seventy thousand. Broke, he had sent an SOS back to the village that he was stranded in a strange land.

Then Andy came and did odd jobs here and there, perhaps to raise money to take him to Nairobi. His hunting ground, where he knew the paths of large edible animals, and also where the avoid serpents and other dangerous creatures, like political hit men. Then he went t Nairobi and can back, chauffeured by a Good Samaritan, and his mind was never the same.

He had gone crazy.

Since the village can never lack an explanation to anything, they said his wife made away with all his earthly possessions. She stripped the house of anything that had a value above fermented cow mucus. He now loiters in the village, finding himself in people’s beds, and sometimes talking about wanting his wife. hehe

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