My life in danger as enemies send assassin to finish me

As one of the most successful people in Mwisho wa Lami, I have always been aware that I have many jealous enemies.

What I had never imagined was that my enemies have grown so much in the recent past and that they would be ready to go to any length to harm me.

Apparently, my recent activities and successes have not gone down well with many people, and I now have more enemies per square metre in Mwisho wa Lami and environs than anyoneelse.

Just to mention a few, my grand, colourful wedding last November earned me quite some enemies.

My anticipated graduation in 2016 is also giving my colleagues sleepless nights while my closeness to Bensouda, our female Headmaster, has put me at loggerheads with the deputy Kwame who believes I have taken over his job.

At home, relations between me and the assistant chief are at an all-time low, and this was not helped by my decision to fire those of his children who were prefects. About a week ago, I received a call from an unknown number.

The caller did not identify himself but he told me to “chunga maisha.”

I did not take this seriously and continued with my life as usual. On Monday, we stayed in school till late with the Headmistress working on the next list of appointments.

We completed work at around 7.30 and Bensouda requested me to escort her to her home, which is in the neighbouring village.

Only a fool would not comply.

I walked with her slowly to her house.

Like most women, she was so afraid of the dark that she held my hand throughout the journey.

On arrival, she would not let me go and demanded that I wait for supper.

“You can’t come to my house and go like that,” she said.

I started arguing that I needed to be home, but once she brought a jug of juice, any resistance that I had quickly melted.

I sat down to take the juice as she prepared supper. It was well after 10 p.m. when I left. I called Nyayo to come and pick me.

I met Nyayo on the road a few metres from Bensouda’s house and boarded his bodaboda motorcycle.

He was to drop me to school where I planned to take my bicycle.

On the way he asked me where I had been but I avoided the question.

“Kama ni kwa Bendousa unatoka, chunga sana,” he said. “Sio wewe pekee nimebeba kutoka kwake.”

I told him it was not what he was thinking.

Nyayo dropped me at school and left me as I took my bicycle.

I followed him shortly after and although it was pitch dark, when it comes to direction to my house, my Raleigh Bicycle has never failed me.

It happened so fast.

As I approached the third last bend that would take me to Milimani, I heard a loud bang and the next thing I knew I had fallen down in the thicket next to the road.

As I struggled to stand up, I was hit in the face and then heard someone’s footsteps quickly leave the scene.

“Wuuuuwi, wuuwii, wananiuwa!” I wailed.

Although there were homes nearby, it took some time before anyone answered my distress call.

“Wuuuwwwi wananiua!” I wailed again, walking towards home.

The first person I met was Lutta.

“What is it Dre?” he asked, when he recognised me.

“That person wanted to kill me,” I said.

“That was a gun, the person used to hit me hard on the head so as to finish me!”

Saphire and Rasto had also joined us by the time.

Were you sober?

“What happened?” Every new person who arrived asked the same question.

Surprisingly, Nyayo did not come at all yet he is the one who had dropped me just a few minutes earlier.

The assistant chief soon arrived.

I did not have much faith in him investigating this and his manner of questioning did not therefore surprise me.

“Were you sober?” was the first question he asked.

“Yes,” I said, and I could see him try to smell my breath.

“We were at Hitler’s today and I can confirm that Dre was not there,” said Rasto.

“And where were you coming from at 11 p.m.?” the chief continued his questioning.

“Why do you want to know where I was coming from?” I asked him.

“Someone wanted to kill me and you are asking where I was coming from?” My head had swollen.

“We need to know so that we can help you,” he said.

“Personally, I think it was an accident and that is why the government banned night travel.”

Found Fiolina seething

“How can you conclude that this was an accident without conducting thorough investigations?” I asked him.

Unable to agree with him, the chief ordered everyone to go home, saying that investigations would continue in the morning.

We tried to get my bicycle but could not get it due to darkness so I walked home – only to find Fiolina seething in anger.
She clearly refused to listen to my story after she noted that I was not toxic.

“If it happened at 11.p.m. and you were not at Hitler’s all evening, so where were you? she confronted me.

“Your husband was almost killed yet all you are asking is where he was?” I wondered.

I then cleaned myself with a wet cloth, and then joined her in bed, although we faced opposite directions, not talking.
Lutta was at my home at 6.00 a.m. the next day and together we left to go find my bicycle.

The assistant chief joined us shortly and it wasn’t long before we found the bicycle in some thicket next to the road, just near Kim’s house.

Kim is the owner of Mwisho wa Lami Hardware.

The front tire had no pressure and the rim was twisted.

What surprised me was how quickly the assistant chief came up with an explanation.

“You hit this ditch and your front tire burst and that is why you fell in the thicket here,” he said, pointing.

“That’s wrong,” I said, “You are covering up for whoever wanted to kill me. How come then someone hit me and then ran away?”

“That person shot at me and missed, the when I fell down, he hit me then ran away,” I added. “I remember very well.”

“My donkey usually sleeps in this thicket where you fell but I woke up today to find it at home,” said Kim, who had just arrived at the scene.

“That explains it,” The chief concluded hurriedly. “You fell on the donkey which hit you then ran away. No one wanted to kill you.”

“Omwami, why are you making such quick conclusions?” Lutta asked him.

“Dre here was almost dead, you were not here and now you know exactly what happened?”

“It is the evidence as it is,” he said, dismissing us.

“There is no case here.” He then dismissed everyone and banned bicycle night travel.

By this time, my head had swollen greatly where I had been hit.

I walked home to find Fiolina preparing to go to school. She totally refused to take care of my swollen wound.

“Unless you tell me where you were the whole of last evening, I will not help you at all,” she said.

I was not going to tell her where I had been.

I was a little comforted when I received an SMS from Bensouda expressing her sorrow at what had happened and giving me two days off to recuperate.

I spent the whole day trying to figure out who’d have attempted to kill me and planning my new security measures.

Even in the mist of all my enemies, I was happy that I had at least one friend I could trust: Bensouda.

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