MWALIMU ANDREW: Revenge awaits all those who called me ‘slay king’

You remember how last week, we differed with Fiolina, the laugh of my life, regarding the fact that I was giving Sella, a beautiful colleague at Mwisho wa Lami Primary, lifts to and from home.

To make amends, I dedicated the car to her last weekend. On Saturday morning, I surprised her with news that I would be driving her to visit her people.

“Thank you very much,” she said, and she started preparing immediately. It was 7.30am.

“With a car, your home is just here,” I told her. We left home at around 9.30am, and were at her place less than half an hour later. We had passed by Mwisho wa Lami market and done some basic shopping for my mother-in-law.

A VISIT TO THE IN-LAWS

We were welcomed warmly and, as usual, there was a rush to the kitchen. As an in-law, I am always treated well when I visit, but the game had just been upped after I arrived driving.

A few minutes after we had settled, down, I got out, called some young man, opened the boot and removed the shopping — doing it in such a way that everyone in the compound could see what an amazing in-law I was.

There was tea and groundnuts when I got back to the house. Even as I took tea, the car keys could not leave my hand; I kept waving them in case anyone had any doubts as regards to who the owner of the car was.

After tea, as the women got busier in the kitchen, Tocla and his cousin came to keep me company. His talk was centred on the car: how does it feel driving, how much fuel does it use, is it manual or automatic, what is the maximum speed.

And Tocla being Tocla, verbal answers weren’t enough, he wanted to see the real things, so he asked if I could give him a ride around the village. We went round their village twice.

All along, Tocla’s windows were down and he would greet everyone he met. By the time we were back, his family was the envy of everyone — for having a rich in-law who drives!

We got back to the house to find lunch ready. There is food for an in-law, and then there is food for an in-law who drives. They had overdone themselves: there were two chickens, one specifically for me, rice,chapati, ugali, name it.

You know how I ate: starting with what I was last likely to encounter soon. After lunch, it was time to leave. Fiolina’s mother said she wanted to be dropped somewhere on the way, so she started preparing.

NO MONEY

We bid everyone goodbye. As I shook their hands, I could see disappointment on their faces. Since I was driving, they had expected thick envelopes from me. None was given, for I had no money. Even when I dropped my mother-in-law at the market centre on our way back, I did not give her anything; although Fiolina gave her Sh300.

Fiolina was happy (and proud) as we drove back. Until she received a call, apparently from one of her sisters. Her mood changed.

“Please don’t shame me again like that, Dre,” she said, without elaborating. When I insisted on details, she told me how disappointed her people were that I had left them empty-handed.

“Which in-law doesn’t leave an envelope to his wife’s family when visiting?” she asked.

“I know, Fiolina,” I said. “But you know very well our financial situation. I have no money at all. In fact, I may have to park this car for lack of fuel.’

“Then why did we go?” she asked “We could have waited till we had money.”

I told her I thought her home was a place we should be able to go to any time — with or without money.

“But not when you are driving,” she said. “According to them, you have money but are just mean.” I did not talk to her for the rest of the journey.

The next day, Sunday, I walked to church; then spent the afternoon washing the car. On Monday morning, I passed by Sella’s place, and together we drove to school. I stayed in my office till tea break when I joined my colleagues in the staffroom for tea. Sella was not in the staffroom.

As we took tea, the teachers kept talking about a Sweetie, and I kept wondering who Sweetie was — but I did not ask.

“I reckon Sweetie’s standards are nowadays so high she doesn’t take tea with the rest of us,” Kuya said.

Other teachers agreed, laughing and saying she would just be back to normal soon.

“If she is lucky to remain alive,” added Kuya.” I poured my tea, and walked to my office to take it with thendumaI had carried from home.

'SLAY KING'

The next day, after tea break, I went to class, then came back when no one was in the staffroom; and locked myself in my office that is just next to the staffroom.

Teachers started streaming in half an hour to the official lunch time; with food arriving a quarter of an hour later. By the time the lunch time bell rang, all teachers were in the staffroom; and they started serving food.

Having refused to contribute to the lunch club, I was only allowed lunch on Tuesdays, the day forugaliandsukuma. I heard Erick come in late and start serving.

“Chukua kidogo, Erick,usimalizie Slay King chakula,” said Kuya.

“Slay King ako around kweli?”asked Madam Ruth.

“If the car is around, I am sure he is around,” answered Kuya, pointing at my car. I was shocked to realise that it was me being referred to asSlay King. Madam Ruth said it was quite possible I did not have fuel and I had walked home that day.“Gari inakunywa mafuta sana,” she said, before adding:“Na pia huyu Sweetie wake huenda anamnyonya kweli kweli.”Everyone laughed.

“And by the way, where is Sweetie?” asked Lena. “Where is Sella?”

Nzomo said that she had left the school early to take her baby for clinic.

“Lakini si pesa na gari huharibu wanaume?”said Mr Atika.Kama juzi Dre alikuwa tu mtu wa kawaida. Gari kuingia amegeuka kuwa Slay King wa mtaani. Na Sweetie wake sio mmoja pekee …”I could not take it anymore.

I loudly opened the door and walked to the staffroom. Everyone froze, with Mrs Atika almost dropping her plate. I greeted them and went ahead to serve my food without saying a thing.

Since then, the teachers have been very disciplined, and follow all my rules.

But all the teachers who called me Slay King and referred to Sella as Sweetie will not go unpunished. I am still planning my revenge.

In the meantime, I have reduced the number of times I pick or drop Sella. Until things quieten.