-
24
- LANGAA RPCIG
- Chapter
- Additional Information
165 24 eanwhile, when Sam woke-up the next day, he could still feel the raw pain from the beating he endured the previous evening. He was tired and sore that he could hardly roll out of bed. Though he could see the bright shafts of light creep into his room from the gaps in his bedroom window, he just lay there, face-up thinking about his wife. He wondered if she was safe. ‘Perhaps she made it safe to the police station.’ That was where most Kikuyus from his community had sought refuge. He knew she had to be there. There was no other place save for Kakamega forest, but it was too far from the town. Only those who had the means braved the trip. It was during this time that Sam realized how much he loved his wife. He remembered those early days! He recalled how the two met at his sister’s home. He remembered how he had searched her for a long time, but to no avail. He remembered how he fell in love with her. He remembered how she made him smile. Yes, her smiles always twirled his spirit and made his heart miss a beat. Those were moments of utter bliss. Nothing else mattered. There was nothing anyone could have done or said to keep them apart, for they were destined to be together. Those were the best years of their lives. Life was simple and uncomplicated; yet now, everything was unclear. Sam even recollected a silly conversation he had with Wanja in the early days of their relationship. “My parents are originally from Molo. They moved here long before I was born,” Wanja had told him as way of introduction. “You must speak Tiriki then!” “No! I never learned!” “And why was that?” “I had no one to teach me.” “How about in school?” “I went to boarding school.” “Oh, I see.” M 166 “We spoke only Swahili or English.” “It was a crime to speak any local dialect.” “I know that. Do you mean to say you never had any local friends?” “My parents wouldn’t let me play with local girls. They were very protective of me. No, they were protective of all of us.” “I guess there is no hope for us then?” “I didn’t say that,” Wanja reassuringly. “So what are you saying?” “That was a long time ago.” “There is hope for us?” “Only if you want it to be there!” This bit of news was important. This way, he lovers forged their friendship. After that, they never spoke of their ethnicity as a hindrance to their relationship. Had she been from Venus and him from Mars, he would still have married her, for love trumped ethnicity. That was then. Today, Sam still lay on his bed alone. As these thoughts floated his mind, Sam realized how temporal life can be. It can change in a moment’s notice. His eyes glossed over the ceiling; he struggled to make sense of it all, mumbling to himself: “To hell with tribalism!” He bit his lower lip, and rolled his body facing the wall. “To hell with tribalism! Wanja is my wife and anchorage of my life. I don’t care that she is Kikuyu. When I get out of bed, I will go look for her,” he muttered, pulling the covers over his head. He closed his eyes to the aches of his body. Sam did not wake-up until mid-morning. He was fatigued, and his body still ached. Even if he had woken-up early, he could not go anywhere, for Maraba was swarming with General Service Unit (GSU) men—a paramilitary wing of the Kenyan Military and Police—bent on keeping security in the area. They made their presence felt. They paraded the neighbourhood in their camouflage uniform, brandishing their guns aimlessly, and intimidating citizens. Sam was forced to suspend the vow he had made earlier on: to search for his wife. Travelling anywhere was dangerous. He could not risk [52.90.181.205] Project MUSE (2024-03-19 09:46 GMT) 167 his life, even if that was selfish. Courage in the face of danger defied logic. He knew she would understand . . . Going out of the home, with the GSU men around, was like playing Russian roulette. So he stayed indoors all morning, all afternoon, until the sun went down . . . That night, it was not only hot and humid, but also tumultuous. Sam...