Why I am sticking with my cheap fundi Nyayo 

When I took a development loan from the bank to continue with the construction of this great mansion of mine, I was quite sure that the money was enough to progress the house to the lintel, or what the fundis called lindo.

This was according to the projections of my former, but expensive fundi – Ali. But when I engaged Nyayo, Mwisho wa Lami’s renown jack of all trades and master of everything, he assured me that with the money I  had, the house would go up to roofing.

“In fact, start preparing for the day you will enter the house,” he said. I told him that being a great role model, I would not accept to ‘enter’ a house that is not fully complete.

“Watu wa Mwisho wa Lami watakuroga,” he said. “The moment we roof the house and put up the doors, I suggest you enter into the house immediately,” was his recommendation. “You can always do most of the finishing while staying in the house.”

I told him that it was not a good idea but he convinced me saying that it was better to stay in an incomplete house in your own compound than a complete house in your father’s compound.

“Utakuwa uko kwako,” he emphasised. The sound of being in my home was so sweet and I was so eager to see that happen.

As such, I set aside Saturday August 28 as the date when we will officially move into the new house. I know I should have consulted Fiolina, the laugh of my life, on the date but I wanted to surprise her, so my plan was to keep things from her then surprise her when she comes back from Mosoriot. There was no permanent house in her entire village and I was sure she would be eager to get into one – whether incomplete or not.

With assurances from Nyayo, I wrote to a few close friends inviting them to join me as we “entered” our brand new house. Despite our differences, Apostle Reverend Elkana, the revered Spiritual Superintendent of THOAG (The Holiest of All Ghosts) Tabernacle Assembly, agreed to preside over the ceremony.

Some of my friends wondered how they were being invited to “enter” a house that was far from complete but knowing me and what I am capable of doing, most believed me.

Except Pius. Pius is a great friend of Ali – they were classmates in high school, and on his visit at home recently, he spent some time with Nyayo as he constructed the house.

Being very busy, I have rarely joined Nyayo’s as he worked. I could  have joined over the weekend but with some money in my pocket, my weekends have been very busy.

LITTLE CEMENT

Pius came to see me last Monday with major complaints.

“I don’t like how Nyayo is building your house,” he said. I asked him why.

“He is putting too little cement in the sand and he does not have tools to ensure the walls are straight and that corners are good,” said Pius. He told me that most of the corners and angles were wrong and that Nyayo wasn’t following the plan.

The next day, I left work early to go see what Nyayo was doing.

He was happy to see me. If Nyayo had been doing anything wrong, he would not have welcomed me at the site the way he did. I confronted him on the things that Pius had raised.

“Wacha kusikisza watu,” Nyayo told me. “When was your father’s house built?” he asked me. I couldn’t remember when it was. I told him I was either too young or I had not been born.

“Does it have cement?” he asked me. I told him that the house was only made of posts and mud.”

“Kama nyumba ya matope haijaanguka kutoka 1979, mbona hii ianguke hata kama simiti ni kidogo?” he asked. He had a point. Regardless of what Pius said, the fact that we were using bricks and cement meant that my house was much stronger than my father’s, and would therefore last for more than the four decades my father’s house had already lasted.

Trust my fundi

I asked Nyayo about the measurements.

“Sisi ni fundi, tunatumia macho, macho yangu inashinda kabiro,” he said. He told me that after constructing for a long time, he had reached a point were he did not need most of the instruments.

“Nikiangalia tu nitajua kama ukuta iko kombo.” He said. He showed me around and it was clear that things were not as bad as Pius had made them appear.

There was only one problem though. They had blocked off several areas where doors were supposed to be. I showed him.

“Usijali, kazi ya fundi ni kujenga na kubomoa,” he said. “Bomoa hapo Tocla.” When I asked him if he was referring to the plan I had given him, his answer was short.”

“Sihitaji plan kila siku,” he said. Niliangalia mara moja na iko kwa kichwa.”

BENT AND UGLY HOUSE

I noticed that the walls of one room were almost nearing the lintel while the rest were still far down. I asked him why. “Hii ni bedroom, kukiwa na shida ya pesa tutamaliza bedroom ndio uingie kwa nyumba August,” he said, which made a lot of sense.

But that evening, after Nyayo had left, Pius came to the site accompanied by Ali. I joined them. Ali kept shaking his head as he looked at the house. I asked him why.

“Utarudia kila kitu hapa,” he said. He said that the house may collapse but when I challenged him and told him that even mud houses had not collapsed, he said that even if it doesn’t collapse immediately, the house would appear bent and look ugly.

He identified several mistakes that needed to be corrected, which I noted down. When I asked him how much he would charge me to correct the mistakes, he quoted twice what he had initially quoted.

“But why?” I asked him

“Lazima tubomoe kila kitu we start a fresh,” he said. I dismissed him.

I called Nyayo as soon as Ali had left. He admitted some of the mistakes and promised to correct them the next day.

“Hakuna nyumba haina makosa ikijengwa,” he said, as we walked to Hitler’s. We sat under the same banana plantation together with Rasto and Alphayo.

“Dre kama umeamua Nyayo ndio fundi, sikiza Nyayo pekee yake” Alphayo started. “Nimekuoa na Ali tena. Fundi wawili wataharibu nyumba,” he advised.

“Wachana na fundi wa mbali na tuko na Nyayo hapa,” said Rasto. They added that not very many people were happy at the progress and speed Nyayo had made with the house.

“Even your brother Pius is not happy,” Alphayo said as he looked around and lowered his voice, “Your brother is not happy that you are building a permanent house while he has a mud house.”

I agreed with Alphayo. Pius had severally criticised the project and had repeatedly advised that I should have done a semi-permanent house like his.

We continued drinking, and Nyayo told me how he was planning to build for me a toilet and a gate for free – as long as I provide all the necessary materials. Ali would never do anything for me for free. Never!

As we staggered home from Hitler’s late that night, it was clear that I had not made mistake in choosing Nyayo as my contractor. If anything, I was making huge savings and getting more than I had bargained for! August 28  is the day we will “enter” the house. Mark the date!