I started typing this post on my phone after spending the better part of Saturday night at Nyayo Police Station in Nairobi West… yup, it’s been *that* kind of weekend. Allow me to share, from the beginning, if I may:
Friday: Break-Up Sms
I have no words for this level of disrespect and indifference. None. I just hope no one ever puts her through the kind of humiliation and rejection she’s shown me.
Saturday: Run-in with The Law
First off, f*ck the police. (*Woosah!*)
So anyways, I was coming back from a house-party in Karen; some chick yammied all over my jeans so I had to leave early to go change. I don’t know why I decided to take Lang’ata Road instead of my usual Ngong Road but right when I got to the big roundabout near T-Mall.. traffic cops stop me. These were not your average condescending cops, these were dodgy ones that clearly looked like they had a few. So the one cop dude forces open my door, pulls the key out the ignition and yanks me out of the car. And now, the fun part: roadside Q&A.
“Who’s car is this? Is it stolen?”
“Why were you speeding?”
“You smell like beer and vomit. Do you know that drunk driving is a criminal offence?”
I tried to explain but.. they’d clearly already made up their minds.
“You’re coming with us to Nyayo”
So I start to plead for forgiveness and what-not.
“Hand-cuff this guy and let’s go”
So there I was, me and two cops walking down towards Nairobi West to Nyayo Police Station. It was only until we got to the Station that I started to really plead with these guys to let me go. Long story short, it took 2 hours of sitting around in a police station, a phone-call from my mother and several brown notes from my wallet to buy back my car keys.
Those goons! © NV
Thereafter I went straight home and slept.
Saturday night, ruined.
Sunday: Domestics Gone Bad
Fights happen in many households, I imagine and not just in mine. However, in all cases, the fact remains that respect is owed to all family members equally and more importantly to the parent(s) involved. My brother, my mother and I have weekly round-table meetings where we bring each up to speed on the week’s activities, expenditures, projects, future prospects and plans for the coming week. Today’s one, however went from heated debate, to loud verbal exchanges and then deteriorated into table-banging, shouting, choice words, emotions and walking off.. and I was caught in the middle. The curse of being such a small family yet having been continents apart for so long is that people don’t quite know how to re-integrate themselves back into the family unit. For me personally, its taken a long time to adapt to living at home, having to report to ma dukes on everything as well as account for every single moment and penny I spend and so I know where my bro is coming from. It aint easy… But respect is owed, at all times. The truth may hurt, you may feel misunderstood or even falsely accused but we learn to restrain ourselves, accept whatever is thrown at us with patience and humility (which in most cases means remaining silent and resisting the urge to lash out physically or verbally in self-defence). A family of 3 is way too small for this kind of drama. I guess the loud silence that has since filled the house will give people time to cool down and think clearly about things.
So yeah, that was my weekend. Another Monday beckons; meanwhile I’ll be trying to deal with all the events of the last two nights.
Now playing: The Roots – “Clock Without Hands”