When we parted ways here last week, Fiolina, the lucky laugh of my envious life, was increasingly becoming a competitor to my enterprise that is becoming the talk of town; sorry, village in Mwisho wa Lami and its environs — ‘Drelina Mini-Bakeries’.
She had not only poached my top salesperson, Branton, and thus taken over the local market, but also threatened to go after my lucrative market by unleashing Nyayo to compete with me directly.
Even worse, she copied my name, and made slight changes with an intention to pass off as a more genuine product. She was calling her products ‘Original Drelina Mini Bakeries’, aka ‘Drelina Asili Bakeries’.
I had warned her against engaging Nyayo, for it is written that only men can engage other men on such matters. But she went ahead and engaged Nyayo.
Last Wednesday as I rode my motorcycle to deliver breakfast in Mililmani, Mwisho wa Lami’s leafy suburbs where teachers and other salaried people live, I met Nyayo carrying a crate of mandazi from Drelina Asili.
BODA BODA RIDER
As you would expect, Nyayo being a popular boda boda rider knows and is known by practically everyone, including animals and trees.
As the well known guy who enthrals people with stories, he was able to engage more customers than I did. Nyayo was crafty too — he told some people that I had sent him. Needless to say, he outsold me on his first day at work.
This was not good at all. I would not tolerate my wife, my principal assistant, using some of my people and resources to fight me.
Like all couples, it was normal to quarrel and differ, but using people I had groomed to fight me was not going to be tolerated. Nyayo was literally nothing without me.
Nothing. I did not talk to or engage him for I knew exactly where I would hit him. Hard.
That evening, I asked him to be personally delivering the daily revenues from my motorcycle. For those who may have forgotten, the boda boda that Nyayo brags with in the village is mine, and he pays me a daily fee.
It was around 6.30pm when Nyayo brought the money. I asked him to hand over the keys. He tried to argue, saying he always delivered the expected money except in the early days of corona when business was low.
He begged to leave, saying he needed to get home before it started raining, but I reminded him that he was using my motorcycle at my discretion and pleasure.
“Ni mimi nilikupea, na ni mimi naichukua,” I said and took away the keys. Fiolina was around that day but she did not say a thing. I would later learn that she called another boda boda to come and pick Nyayo and drop him to his place.
She even paid for the ride. Now you tell me if that was the laugh of my life or stress of my life.
The next morning, I delivered my mandazi without any challenges as there was no one to compete with me. As you would imagine, my own home was becoming un-inhabitable since Fiolina had pitted everyone – Electina, Honda, Branton, even Sospeter – against me. I was basically trying to survive.
I would eat at Kasuku hotel and only go home to sleep, but this was not sustainable. That Thursday after delivering the goods, I dropped my crate at Anindo’s place then went to buy baking flour and other items.
When I delivered them to Anindo’s, I found her husband, Nyayo, busy repairing some motorcycle. There is a story behind the motorcycle. A few years ago, Tocla, Fiolina’s brother, requested us to help him start a business.
Those were the days when Fiolina’s family used to milk me dry as though I owed them a lot. Tocla at the time believed that I needed to pay him a monthly salary for having married his sister.
We bought him a second-hand motorcycle. He quickly learnt how to ride, and using his sweet mouth, he was able to easily get customers. But there was one problem.
After every trip, he would go to Kasuku Hotel to ‘thank the body for toiling.’ He then became a frequenter at Hitler’s — he visited twice a day.
Needless to say, whenever a small repair was needed, he did not have money. Sometimes he could not even afford to fuel, and I had to step in. Then he increased his visits to Hitler’s and as you would expect, he caused one or two minor accidents.
The motorcycle broke down and since I refused to give him money to repair it, it has been gathering dust at his home. Until that morning when Nyayo went to pick it after Fiolina convinced Tocla to release it.
On Friday morning, I bumped into Nyayo at the market centre and in Millimani as we both delivered mandazi. I did better than him because his motorcycle still had some issues and had to be pushed at times. Were it not for that, Nyayo would have outsold me.
I wanted to confront him but upon further reflection, I realised that he was not the problem. The real problem was Fiolina, who was now becoming my fierce competitor. Kikulacho kinguoni mwako —while we looked like a perfect couple out there, inside, things were simmering.
I could not take this any longer. I had to act. That day I wrote a letter to Fiolina’s parents, asking for a meeting to discuss her unbecoming behaviour. I also wanted Electina and Honda to return to their home immediately. I personally delivered the letter.
I knew Fiolina had ‘put my parents, relatives and neighbours in the pocket’, by regularly sending them free mandazi.
I decided to use some PR. I called Caro, my sister and Mwisho wa Lami’s Minister for Communication, Broadcasting and Information, and told her the tribulations I was going through. I then sent her Sh500.
This was enough to make her tell everyone who cared to listen how ungrateful Fiolina was, and how lucky she was that I had not sent her away.
The news reached both parents and as such a reconciliation meeting has been called in the afternoon. If my terms are not met, I will be taking the next step — impeach Fiolina from my home.