In The Woods

• Oyaa, Uko.

The message pops up on my screen. I stare at it for a while thinking of an appropriate reply. Where am I? I decide not to see the message, put more fire wood making the fire rattle the flame growing bigger. I adjust myself well and re-open my book. This is why “I ran away” for peace and quiet. Just a man, his thoughts and nature. All am missing is a dog. To some point I see how this sounds crazy but I wouldn’t be here sharing this crazy encounter with you. All of a sudden, my phones start ringing bringing me back to reality. Am so lost in Jeffery Deaver words to a point the vibration scares me a little bit.

“Sasa tena nani huyu?” I think out loud as I try to reach my phone which for some unknown reasons is playing hide and seek with me, I can hear it ring but can’t find and somehow it’s ringing violently louder than usual. These are the real-life problems that I face, others are bothered by stock exchange or some other adulating things you people do, but for me it’s remembering where I placed the lighter!

“Yo, kwani uko wapi?”

“Kejani” I lie plainly.

“Niko hapo kwako nje hayuko nyani hii”

Shit! This nigga! Now I have to come clean. You know how embarrassing this is?

“Nimeketi chini ya mti Naivasha” I say lively while adjusting my sitting position so As to lean on the tree.

“Na Nani?” He asks back, I don’t even get time to answer back he adds,

“Ulienda ata saa ngapi? (Pause) Hii motherfucker iko Naivasha” he announces. Three more dudes start shouting calling me all kind of names. We had all this planned they were to join me but when the D-day came they all had excuses, but now am the bad guy for coming alone. I start shouting back explaining myself, “Zii nilikuwa nataka kuona, tulieni kwanza, Relax” this is when, let’s call him Mark, we never got to the formalities part, joins from the left waving while performing some type of dance, white people! So many things are happening at once.

There is a white dude In front of me just waving and for some reasons am waving back, what have I been smoking? This only happens in movies; it doesn’t end well. My friends are still on the line now arguing amongst themselves whether to wait or just come straight and beat me up.

“Ebu tulieni, Skiza, kama mnakuja niko na mzinga moja ongezeni zingine huku ni wa expensive. Kuna mzungu ako hapa nitawapigia” and hang up. Mistake number one. Shit this is still burning! I forgot about the blunt. We now passed the waving session now we staring at each other hoping one of us will say something, him shivering and blowing air between his palms. Me, am still processing the presence of a white person in front of me, yes they warned me about hippos, rare though, but no one mentioned about white people. Don’t get me wrong I have nothing against them.

“Hey, you good?” I ask while waving again. I don’t know why I did this, in my defense am in the woods and I think I’ve watched this movie before. I find out am waving and stop shyly.

“Crrrrrng, crrrrng” my phone rings again. I lower the volume and ignore it,

In a heavy white accent “You ain’t gonna take that?”

It talks! Am shouting this in my head thinking damn he is really white!

“Watanitukana…sorry. They will just (English decides to evaporate) brrrrrrh” I say this while making faces and hand gestures. He understands and laughs while coming close and sits opposite me. I receive the call put it on loudspeaker, mistake number two.

“Hallo”

“Mzungu ako hapo, (in an English accent) Mzungu? Mzungu? You there?”

“Mnachoma, ako hapa!” Why am even friends with these people?

“Yes, am here. Who am I talking to?” Mark says back surprising me and the boys who are now all shouting saying God knows what. For everyone’s security I end the call, I’d rather text them from now on.

“Your friends are crazy” Marks say.

“I don’t know those people; I have never met them in my life.” I deny jokingly. “Let’s see if they’ll turn up.” I add.

By now Mark has already found a spot and is sited opposite me the fire between us. Let me paint a picture, we sited facing the lake, with improvised building stones as a stool where Jack stands, the complementary coke besides him. The fire between us burning with that rattling sound dry firewood makes when burning. Behind us is the cottage am staying at, brightly lit with security lights appropriately placed. I liked it how you could still see the stars, now with a small herd of zebras sleeping on the furthest right, a slow breeze making the long grass and acacia trees move left to right adding to the lakes currents, money well spent. To top up this sensation, on a low but audible volume am listening to Davido’s new album, Timeless. This is why I love Mother Nature; she knows how treat me, spoil me like the babe boy I am. I pass him the blunt, fetch an extra party cup, and extend my hand while looking at him questionably. He understands and points Jack, I pick him up and pours him. Time to seal this friendship.

“Am camping down there, smelled something nice, saw your fire decided to come say hi” Mark explains himself.

“You alone also?” I ask him while extending my fist hoping to get a bump from him. He uses his left hand. I get offended.

“Here we use the other hand, left is considered rude, to some gay” I say to him while pointing at his right hand.

“Like this” he says while using his right hand.

“You a fast learner” I say jokingly.

I always knew at some point in my life I’d meet a white guy but not this way. I thought it would be in an office or somewhere sealing a business deal but not this way, this feels nice, this is genuine and holy. We get into a conversation and he starts bragging on how he has camped all over Kenya. Am even jealous am Kenyan and most of these places he’s talking about I had no idea they exists. Mark is from Staten Island, somewhere in New York as he explained in his early thirties and was transferred to Kenya by the company he works for as a lead project manager. He is here for a year and according to him this is the best thing that has happened in his life as he met someone. A “Shiko”, not me.

“Am walking out of a meeting at Westland’s, there she is struggling with her car, it wouldn’t start. I walk to her and damn you should have seen her in that official outfit. Kenyan ladies are sinfully hot” I can’t relate to any of this but he doesn’t need to know, the only time I’ve been to Westland’s was to do some promotion gigs. We all different but these white people have a way of expressing themselves, there is no way an African man talks about his girl this way, how is he combining these words?

“Why you here alone if I may ask” he says amidst coughing while still trying to pass the joint to me.

I can’t help am laughing while watching the guy “suffer”

“Damn this Kenyan strain is strong” he adds

“Naah, you got baby lungs” I say back.

Why am I here? How did I end up here? I need to quit this shit! All of these thoughts crisscrossing my mind. So much happens in a minute that we don’t even notice. Honestly am not sure how I convinced myself to camp alone, in my defense everyone has been failing me. The planning phase goes smoothly, the delegating part, chemichemi za uwongo. Story za jaba ndio utingize ubongo, ndio ubebe ka wale tikiza kamongo…

“I have met Kenyans camping, but normally in a group and it’s always a party!You hiding from the feds or somethin’?”

Nervous laugh.

My phone vibrates loudly saving me, easing the tension. I won’t lie to you guys, am an honest human being, Christian raised also, but the feeling am a wanted true gangster makes me feel safe, and there's no denying that.

ulitekwa na mzungu nini. The text reads.

Nyinyi na monkey business. I reply.

All in all, I think am now ready for solo adventures, furthermore I tend to attract people wherever I go.