1 CRIME DOES NOT PAY

CRIME DOES NOT PAY

Crime has become the most notorious cause of death to the youth struggling to meet their daily needs and wants. In whatever we do we should always remember that nothing comes easy, in one way or another we have to grind our sweat to get the desires of our heart. There is no decency in defeat however that does no grant you the pleasure to stay down every time you fall, you need to recollect yourself and rise up to your feet for you to get whatever you missed in the first place.

We have to ask ourselves does the end justify the means or should another person bleed for us to achieve our need?

Education is the key to all successful livelihoods and prosperity, however what happens if the education system has become so expensive and left only for the rich who can afford?

It is one sunny Friday afternoon in the outskirts of Nairobi city, the day

Little girls play the famous shredded tube rubber known as "bladder" on the veranda, while the skimming young lads stare lustily as the young princesses' jump their tiny "titties" in the air. For a fact, this day is blessed by the Superior Being; everyone goes about their business, so many boyfriends, children I grew up with come to pick me to go to our usual meeting place "Ram Squad Base".

This was our place where we performed minor felonies, this included, and roughing up individuals just to see them running and bleeding like chicken fleeing a slaughter. In numbers we had confidence after all we are fifteen teenage boys. Woe unto whoever crossed our path, for we rammed them head on. As young men, we reserved fear for our parents and our Creator, though most of our families consisted of orphans, guardians and single parents. Regardless of our diverse backgrounds, tribe and cultures, we were brothers.

Being that we attend school during the day, we meet up every evening. Usually at my home, as it is convenient for all, we have a boy's room where we were able to fit perfectly. I would not call us criminals we fought for fun and the wars we fought ended swiftly and with sweet celebration. Our supreme victory left them with the dub 'Ram squad' to remember what hit them.

There are not many gangs around, in fact there are three. One is 'Mad Lion' consisting of street urchins, 'B3', a criminalized group that steal and wound their victims who feared the third set, US. A few weeks ago, we were confronted by the 'Mad Lion' in our den, after earlier cornering two of our members and bruised them. I had just arrived from school when I saw a crowd gathered and I instantly knew something was amiss. The 'Mad Lion' had come with weapons that consisted of rusted knives, broken bottles, etc. to show their might. This day would seal our fate as a crew. We chased them all over the neighborhood, beat them up and they fled back to their slums with blood stained clothes and broken limb. This was a stern warning to everyone, rumors spread like wild fire and we got publicity. Now no crew or anyone could mess with us, even the police force cannot contain us because they have no information about us. When they conduct a raid, they come to search for cold adults not knowing that we were right under their noses. It was like they are chasing their shadows. The big boys would not rat us out since we are only violent but not criminals. This went on as the years passed by. No one can stop us or tell us anything irrelevant to our being. We have been left to be little demons that rake havoc everywhere we set foot.

We are Church goers, for that matter I guess it is why we never end up casualties to our reckless behaviors. We love and fear our God so much that every Sunday you can never miss us in Church attending the services. We do music, recite poems, skits and narrate Bible verses both in our teenage classes and right before the main congregation, yes we are bold enough to face the magnitude with no fear. Who so ever shows fear standing in front of people becomes our laughing stock of the week and pranks made on him just to pay for his disappointment to the team.

There times we are not allowed to perform our music in church since some of the tracks we use are considered circular yet the lyrics are of gospel kind. This fueled heated reactions within my crew, though we are not all performing artists. It brought rage that ended up some church authorities fell victims to our brutal ways. These so called saints turned wild on us that we could not perform at any church concert within the locality. Rumors is spreading so fast of our violent nature and that "Ram squad" is no longer a gospel group.

An iron sharpens an iron and we are only trying to blend in the righteous society, since it is the foundation and background of most of our families. We are only allowed to attend church but not to partake on any activity, this is making many of us to break loose from church. Gods' son came for sinners from all walks of life but how comes these humans are denying us the chance to get straight with the paradise ways? No track is circular or gospel until lyrics are written on it.

Sometimes I blame this phase of life for the wrong things that later transpires in our day to day living. Not all apples in the same basket are rotten, you have to pick and peel them to separate the best from the worst ones. To church we are not all rebels, some of us still keep the good faith for instance my family tree consisted of church goers so I had no objection to deviate from the root.

As we are passing by these beautiful girls, I can clearly recall this gorgeous one who claims to have crush on me. We are still friends and her suggestion is that we take this relationship to another higher level. I am happy that I have a crew and at the same time a beautiful girlfriend in the same neighborhood, call it all under one roof. Even though my buddy claims that I stole his chic, I am yet to get interims with his accusation.

No sooner than we passed my girlfriends home than we reached Deliverance church Kayoles gate. "Hey let's go inside and help in cleaning", I requested my crew,

"Yes, let us go do some work", replied Albert.

For sure we are entering the gates and heading straight to the teens classes since there is where most of us are at right now. The classes are already wash and clean however the main church is still under construction and a lot of cleaning activity is on from scrubbing the unwanted plastered cement, pushing benches and arranging chairs from one corner to the other. Immediately after joining in is when I realized that we too were caught up in the Sunday service preparations. Water, brooms, mop sticks, dusters, soaps and our hands are all intertwined to clean the house of the Lord. Two hours later the church is clean and ready for the Sunday services so we have to leave.

We are now heading to our notorious base; they say once bitten twice shy however this does not apply to us. A fortnight we were chased by policemen from this same hideout yet it did not bother us nor tickle our nerves. It has become a game of chase and hide, while the police are away we play.

Maxwell and I have different agendas so we are going to Maxwell's home.

We entered the house then he took his home bank tin, smashes it open and empties every coin inside,

"I feel like getting drunk today, I feel like drinking this Friday out", he claims staring directly into my eyes.

"Hehe", I am laughing at him because it always never ends up well with him when he is drunk.

"Let us first go pick green leaves to chew (Mugoka)", he continues with his hearts desires.

We are the first two from the gang to ever taste these green leaves. On reaching Saba Saba stage the only joint where this narcotic is found, we find members also known as kart steamers ready with theirs. Two filled black polythene bags is enough for me and Max, some chewing gums then again we hit the road. We made some food stops along the way to satisfy the rumbling of our intestines.

Time on the other hand is running out, to where? I really do not know and for sure it is not on our side neither are we.

After filling the tummies were filled, chewing started and Max is suggesting that we leave his home since his mother is about to return from work. We are heading for my home because by now our friends have arrived from their whereabouts,

Reaching my block, my mother is at the main gate, she says hi to Max then we pass her. It is like she wants to tell us more but do not know the perfect way to say it.

The prior night a friend of ours came home with a brand new phone Samsung C100 the first polyphonic phone to ever come to be. This is a device for the rich and us seeing it, it tickled our nerves and led us to greed of wanting the same or more superior.

"Let's go hustling, we might get lucky than I got yesterday with the phone, we might get more goodies" said Enoch master in pool table by this time.

Meanwhile the stimulant effect is taking its course reaping back and forth

"Yes let's go get ours" claimed Max and Humphrey. Once again we are passing my mother at the same gate, this time eye contacts were established between me and her and it took quite long to break it. In secret it is like she is asking me where am I off to but I cannot hear her cautious cry. Finally, she breaks the code of silence "Where are you off to?" the million-dollar question popped the air.

"We are just strolling the neighborhood" reluctantly I reply not knowing what I am getting myself into. I wish I knew like I now know. However, hey experience the best teacher. We are leaving her at the gate yet my thoughts are really tormenting me.

Donnex has come into the picture as we are just about to exit the estate via Mwangaza road, step by step and breathe after breath we brought the dawn nearer and nearer.

"Let us start with Umoja2 Ma'nyanja road" claimed Donnex. "Yes, good idea Humphrey and Enoch supported the motion.

Max and I are just joy riding on the trip so our opinion is only "yes" for that matter. These fields were scarcely populated by then now Nasra gardens and Sosian estate. These are bare lands consisting of Maasai manyattas in the previous decades there have been conflicts of interest on these two lands. I remember a certain time on our way to school we met beheadings and body mutilation. One can only imagine the psychological trauma subjected to a 13 to 15-year-old.

If my parents were that super rich, I would have sued Nasra gardens to compensate me with millions of shillings for introducing social injustice to us minors but hey this is Africa, home tuff for corruption. This was and is a horrible place to cross in the odd hours of the night. However harsher violence is usually felt and seen every time a house is built on either these two lands. People armed with crude pangas, bows and arrows are the usual sight of the gardens and all their rouge memories are forced into my mind in a 5minute walk through these fields.

Ma'nyanja road by now is still a dream yet to come true, the contractors dug lengthy stretches and left them unattended to, thus stagnant waters have since filled them which during the that gave us a free swimming pool infested with frogs and toads.

At the intersection of Ma'nyanja road and Outtering road, a rat race sprint erupted. We are that fast and still could not qualify for Kenyan 100meters. I am hearing jingling of keys and heavy footsteps coming towards us, quickly we are dashing into the night only after a short while to realize that we are being chase by our imaginations.

We have taken the turn and heading towards Umoja Mtindwa stage, passing by Stella area peeping through Jam recue club, we can hear loud music from a distance which hurriedly carry's our febrile legs and since we all love music, we can be seen dancing and chanting to the ongoing songs. They say music is food to the soul yeas you ask me. You can tell that people have come out in large numbers just to drink and dance the Friday out.

We too are not left out of the picture, "Zina shika", Max claimed. "Yeah zina runda mbaya", Humphrey affirmed with much excitement on his face. My heart is pounding hard for the chase we just encounter, I am trying to wonder who that might be and could it be the police giving us warning signs? Many questions are lingering my thoughts with no certain answer. Maybe they are ghosts from our previous victims. "haha" I am laughing these thoughts as we are passing by the house we used to reside in when I was still a toddler dangling with my mother's cloths.

It is around 2130hrs, we are past the Jehovah's Witness chapel bend just before leaving the last building containing a barber shop which is playing some old school hip-hop music, we dancing our ass out and officially stopped to listen to these jams. I wish we could stand here forever and ever.

Looking back on the road towards Umoja Mosque from this corner and the two adjacent Peter Kibukosya and Busara both Primary schools, there are no cars on the road for it is late and no bright street lights seen.

The road is clear no buildings alongside we can easily see the whole road stretch.

There is this middle aged man walking his way from work holding in his left arm a huge Uchumi supermarket polythene paper bag. A minute later after he passed us we started trailing him into the night as the darkness swallowed us whole. I am seeing Humphrey taking a fake pee so this man can get into his right position. I too take turn towards the bushes to see what is about to go down. On crossing the dividing road Max removes a crystal gleaming kitchen knife for sure it shines in the night. Enoch is on the other side of the road walking alone. Donnex and Humphrey are 5steps ahead of me and 2steps apart, things are playing out in slow motion.

We have placed ourselves in perfect position for our prey is in the middle of us unaware of the danger he has just paused himself to. Anyone as sharp as the police can immediately know that our flanked position is about to harm this man, maybe he thinks that it is still early and that is why he is seeing people walking home.

He cannot realize that the people he is walking with are of the same group and it was a tactic to trap victims into the human pentagon web. I think he is tired of the days' hustle and he is trying to get home to his family or a recently separated home that ended with a divorce settlement plan. "Haha" Let me laugh I'm still alive and kicking.

This week has been tiresome and nothing relaxes the body like a Friday weekend shopping, by the looks of things this guy seems tired trying to keep his steady slow steps in accord with his body rhythm.

This is it kid now you have your chance to get raw, two steps passed the third bump Max pounced on our victim demanding "Toa yote leo" (Remove everything today).

Time is moving fast, Donnex and Humphrey are grabbing this man from every different angle. Letting loose his shopping bag, Maxwell takes a threatening swing of his knife towards the man's throat. He screams in pain I cannot see whether he has been stabbed or it is just a fake cry.

I am frozen on my feet contemplating what is really going down, it is now or never grab the cheddar or die a beggar. I wish I surrender but hey I'm not the victim instead the victimizer. A strong blow to the right rib from Donnex is heavy enough compelling our victim to raise his both arms, "Do not kill me please" he pleads for his dearly which is now flashing in front of his eyes.

Enoch on the other side of the road is indecisive whether to cross the road to come on this side flowing with milk and honey. Is this what is to happen on this journey I embarked on? Questions are popping my mind over and over again. What have I made myself with for my life? I am dinning with thieves yet I am blinded enough not to realize my company.

Show me your friends I tell you who you really are fitted firmly on this situation at hand. Do not ever judge a book by the cover before reading through the pages to get the content. I was never born a thief and I refuse to be one not any more, whether stealing for fun as we did back then or just for the show we could really take yours.

I will always refuse to walk down that memory lane. In the middle of confusion, I can vividly see arms fighting and struggling to set base at the soft hollow bumps on his throat. Finally, mission accomplished, he is standing straight and motionless and his eyelids stuck open only taking sharp winks as he tries to gasp for heavy breathes. Frightened and stunned he cannot make any sound because he knows that we mean business. The arm across his neck is strong enough sending him to a weaker posture. His trembling feet gave way from the knees. "He is going down" I told myself standing two steps away from the actual crime scene. The shocking truth is that I have not gotten a chance even to touch the flesh of this person yet we are in the same team,

Donnex is still firmly stuck on the victims' neck like the cheetahs on the antelopes. He cannot take any struggling further; he falls to the ground knees first a clear indication that air circulation from the nostril to the lungs is cut short temporarily. His body's normal breathing activity is adjourned.

Six arms curl him all over camping especially around his pockets, maneuvering and ransacking his clothes empty. I can see everything clear in 3D, he is 6.3feet and around 75kgs of mass. Wearing a kaki black trouser with brown leather jacket, whatever these arms are picking back and forth do no really matter at the end of the loot what matters that I have a price cut.

I am a partner in crime and an accomplice in the mug heist, no sooner his knees reached the ground then a loud blast conquered the dark silent night. It is so loud for a moment we are all paused in confusion.

"Simameni hapo" (freeze) are the words that can be heard in this dark from the unrecognized company, the second shot dominated the air, "tat, tat, ta-ta bang, bang" the air is filled with thundering blinding lights from our front. It is our worst nightmare, the police and this time round they are firing their blazing guns at us."Nasema simameni hapo" (I say freeze) a deep voice echoed through the dark and found its way into our ears.

Everything slow motion, time has frozen still and starring at us in pity since the prophecy that prophesies, "A thief gets lucky 40times", has just been fulfilled. Immediately the police force is deployed into our mission and stuck to our case like glue pointing his weapon of choice straight at us. This night seems the longest I have ever lived my entire life time, He is standing in the middle of Donnex, Max and Humphrey however his aim is pointed straight to my face. He is on our path to freedom and blocked it leaving us no option but to run towards the chiefs' camp. Wait a minute, gunshot with chiefs' camp means more police officer narrowing our chances of survival. So we have to navigate backwards because going forth is disaster in the waiting. I am seeing Enoch half way crossing the road which he doesn't finish across, instead he continues on the on the other path but now with fast steady steps proceeding innocently towards the chiefs' camp. The way he is walking gives an impression that we are not of the same company and step by step he is swallowed with the night.

I have to confuse this policeman because literally he is in my flight path. Confusion everywhere even the already settled dust tainted the night air, this car with its headlights fully on made it possibly vivid that one can find a needle in this night. I pushed Donnex and Humphrey to the left and right respectively, indeed and for a fact I have manipulated death.

As swift as an eagle we hit the runway as our fable trembling legs can carry us to safety not knowing that we have opened hells gate and in for its furry. By pushing my friends sideways, I clearly mixed the policeman making him take a lower aim with his pistol. Then rat-tat-tat followed, he has hit my left knee just above the joint. I just have to charge him off my way because he means to stop us by all means necessary, even if it is by killing us.

"Nani anaye ibiwa" (who is being robed?) asked another police officer alighting from the illuminated car. "Mimi ni mimi" (it is me, it is me) both Max and the victim claimed at the same time heading towards the police.

Wrong move Max, I told myself. I guess things are so loud that Max cannot comprehend or coupe with, which might be why, he is quitting and surrendering to the authorities.

Losing his balance, he opened the runway, I shoulder charged passed him to my left side as I gained momentum. I am seeing sparkling flashy lights as my left leg is lagging me behind. I have felt something enter my knee because of the sudden force that pushed my leg backwards. I can hear my heart pondering so deeply that for a moment I knew my day has come.

For many years we have been dreading this day with our precious heart, we have always been thinking that we are special and that we can never sacrum to such mistakes as getting shot dead in the streets or lynched by mob is the justice of this uncouth society. As for me bullets are meant for my favorite rapper and Hollywood to be precise. I have been raised humble however the curves of my neighborhood have curbed me into this young violent feller.

Finally, I have broken free leaving the officer staggering to his feet, trying to maintain his balance from the body charge I inflicted on his around 85kg body weight. Max has taken to the driver's side while the victim to the opposite. I can see four doors of the saloon car opening as we vanished into the darker part of the lonely stretch opposite 'Visa place' then 'Site'.

The occupants from this car are heavily built in physic with big bellies. They are also joining into the chase to calm this madness. Shots fired shots fired but they are not calling for backup as they are supposed to, it is like they have things under control and do not need assistance from anyone.

As I enter deeply into the darker side of this unlit street the policeman struggles up to his feet and resumed the chase. Dropping the empty magazine then loading a new one, he is really determined to drop us.

I can hear him cocking his tool sending slugs into the chamber then freely squeezing the trigger.

The government of the day is only three months old and that the law of shoot to kill is a month away to be implemented. Meaning the order of the day is shot to wound or to disable, I guess this is why this policeman is a trigger happy fellah. I can tell where the missing slugs are landing since they are just bouncing off my feet then into the school fence of Peter Kibukosya Primary School. If only the forensic can carry out the search of missing bullets, then this would make a perfect place for head start. The air is filled with loud noise. I have been temporarily deaf for the past twenty minutes running for safety. I am caught up wishing I was the famous athlete David Rudisha in this particular moment to run as fast as lighting to avoid the hot slugs aimed at me.

Donnex and Humphrey are footballers and part of their training is sprinting as a paramount element of their physical fitness session, meaning they are fast runners.

They have taken to their heels leaving me nothing but ten and five steps gap respectively, they are much steady with their running that no one wants to be overtaken by the other.

The policeman still keeps to the chase because his promotion and pay rise generates from stopping crooks like us, however we cannot give him that pleasure.

The jingling of the keys from his belt indicates and signals my ears that the rat race is not stopping any time soon. His heavy breathing is making the hair at the back of my neck stand straight, I cannot afford to look behind since it will slow me down or break my rhythm I am also afraid of tripping over and falling to the ground. Running is now becoming my favorite sport at the moment indeed this policeman is eager to stop us.

It is so loud I can tell you for free, cartridge after cartridge I hear them hitting the road empty, every part of my body is dripping and I feel my cloths socking in sweat. My spinal cord has stretched its limits for the first time ever in my lifetime the capacity of my body to handle pressure has been tested fully. I cannot barge or give in; I still have some running in me to try my level best and as much as possible to save my dear threatened life.

Slowly the jingling started to fade away as I totally got blinded by the bright sparks and loud bangs behind me.

He squeezed, squeezed and squeezed until he could squeeze no further because once again he was out of bullets to fire at us. He stops to change the magazine thinking that our time will wait for him, we have to completely vanish from his grasp of thoughts. Darkness has fallen on me to be the leader and example to them but still the followed their wicked dying ways and affairs.

Experience is the best teacher served raw however if we only learn from the main course of the experience. It should never be debatable whether firsthand experience or others experiences vary in weight. I have gone through rough and hard times so that you can make a decisive wise decision with no doubt. You also go through life`s sheet so that I can see good from bad.

The richest and valuable lesson from all the bad lessons is a two-way traffic, let us face it.

If I die of stealing or you watch mob justice lynching me to death for stealing gold watch or even water melon the fruit, 1. Will you think of stealing any more in that judgmental thought of yours? 2. Will you decide that stealing is bad? I doubt it and as well doubt your thoughts but this is the other way round, if someone dies, he dies in the struggle not from the struggle.

All these seem irrelevant to the law enforcers, whether born bad or influenced bad does not matter. Their duty is to serve and protect the general public but clearly they sent their message right home, Crime does not pay. You may sell oranges besides the streets; vend cloths to earn the daily little or no pay wages rather than end up in the vents of the same streets but with open skull and brains licking off the opening of your head because the justice has been served unjustly.

Strides after strides I am gaining more grounds which is relaxing my thoughts, further more we are now entering a highly residential area of umoja2 from the duo primary schools.

This is the point I realized from the frying pan into the fire, I escaped bullets and found the mob.

Eventually the policeman was no more as we evaporated into the cold chilly night, I saw him varnishing into the darkness. I do not know for a fact whether he stopped to reload the weapon or he was exhausted from the sprint he encountered abruptly and unauthorized.

I escaped the first wave with my life balancing in my arms not dropping it to the thorn for that I was sure.

I felt my trouser shaking, shaking and continuously shaking, immediately I lowered both my hands and as I landed them at the back of my thighs, where the shaking activity was actively taking place. As I pressed the brown material on my flesh I felt a slight and steady force pushing my hands away.

Whoever is not taught by his/her mother will be schooled by the universe but hey how would have my mama taught me while she was in hospital confined to bed riding where ever she felt like going.

That was the moment I realized I really needed a mothers' touch in my life. The critical moment in life is the adolescent stage where guidance and canceling plays a key role in a teenager.

I held back the force and lifted my hands to see what wetness flooded my palms.

"Nime Pewa" ... I'm hit, I'm hit I claimed to Donnex and Humphrey as we are approaching the mob that has already gathered facing the only main entrance to Umoja2 from sight place, between Busara and Peter Kibukosya Primary Schools. They have been drawn with gun shots from their houses and into the streets which actually are still bursting you can call them the neighborhood watch.

We meet them head on, "Nini kina endelea huko mutokako? "What is happening where you are coming from?" asked the bigger man from the crowd.

I smell fresh blood, my eyelids are becoming heavier than usual and things are suddenly blurry.

No one knows clearly what transpired after the shooting except Donnex, Humphrey, me and the readers of this book. The way Humphrey is glancing back at me is pressing the needle already in my heart deeper.

I just have to hope for the best of luck. "Huyu rafiki yetu ame dungwa kisu na wakora wengine huko juu ndio maana bado mnaskia mlio wa risasi polisi wanakabiliana nao" Our friend here has been stubbed by thieves back there and it is why you can still hear gunshots. Humphrey has convinced this crowd which is up in arms to squash anything thrown at them in the dark. Even though it is a lie, it is a very convincing one since gunshots are still playing in the background meaning the chase is on. I can hear them too loud in the midst of the mob as we slowly escape their furry. Few people looked at as with empathy no knowing we are the main reason for the disturbance. The brave ones in the mob are making their way towards the darkness where we are running from as we deeply blended into them. It is now difficult to single us out. "I need water to drink" I requested my crew.

I remember quenching my thirst at that moment however since I was bleeding I was never given a drop of water.

Hallucinations have opened their curtains on me making me see my then girlfriend with her often paraffin fetching jerry cane, telling me to speed up after her far away from the scene. I am gasping for breath, bleeding is more intense, Humphrey is taking larger steps away from us as we approach the streetlights of .... Preparatory School because it seems that I am making noises and attracting attention.

"Are you leaving us because I'm shot?" I shouted at him. Donnex is by my side helping me back on my feet every time I fall off. My body is heavier for me to carry wondering what is happening as I stagger in pain.

It is an event after event with different feelings at each scene.

Finally, we have again dodged a mob making it the second wave as we head towards the exiting road from Umoja to Spine road. I can see Enoch on the other side of the road far away.

The police car that has been involved in our shooting has patrolled the entire road and it is now heading back to the scene. Meaning if the mob did not stop us to buy us time we would have been blazed.

I can barely stand on my own as we are still waiting for a commuter Matatu bus to take us home, Donnex is still by my side assisting where needed. I am a survivor and im cheating myself that I am going to pluck the bullet off my knee since I can read the engraved serial number.

I became an illusionist soon as the thought of performing surgery engulfed my brains, maybe I have been seeing too much television and I felt like superman in my already dying body wishing time to fly fast for me to be home. Little do I know what's in the darkness of the night that I have to deal with at the moment. Solo and solo I am feeling solo as time passes by my friends' busy backing away from me pretending to be involved in my affairs.

From the right hand side, a Matatu bus approaches as we are in dear need to varnish from this area.

Hurriedly we dashed in, I'm meant to go in first since I am proving to be a baggage as time advances by.

The Matatu is shaking all over swinging from side to side I am guessing bad roads, thus making it unfavorable means of transport for my condition. The government in motion has started its new era and mostly some laws are not yet made effective like carrying of excess passengers is not prohibited. Javelin has turned out to be my case with both hands raised, the more shakes the Matatu the lesser gripped my hands became until I can no longer hold on properly. My standing position has weakened with time, sweat and blood still dripping all over my body. I cannot continue gripping tight to the bar so I let go. The scent of blood is tainting in here some passengers are getting suspicious and cranky. This matatu is fully packed like perishable products thus why I cannot fall over. All my leaning support is on these wonderful passengers.

There is this man who is seeing the pain in my eyes, he is seeing the pity state of mine.

His eyes are convincing me to lean on him for the support I tiredly, I need not to hesitate and waste time. I've jumped onto the band wagon as I let my almost lifeless body find comfort on this man's shoulder. This kind of a person is hard to find on this earth since most will pass every sort of judgment to fit their perceptions.

It is said that whoever wears the shoes knows very well exactly where it hurts, he who has felt it before knows it best. If I had more papers I would have praised the heart of this man at this moment. Going by the looks of his face you can easily tell which region is coming from. Although most people from his region are widely considered heartless and ruthless not tonight. This is the most generous man I have ever come across. We humans mainly offer help as a show off or when many eyes are looking for recognition.

"Reverse this matatu and take it straight to the chiefs' camp" shouted one of my many nightmares, "This kid is leaking blood" he continued, as if he was expecting me to bleed water or juice. Sooner than later he matatu has busted emergency brakes and we are going reverse.

I only see hate and anger in his eyes as he continues to shout on top of his voice. Maybe he has fallen a victim and the people he fell prey to did not leave him with anything except a thick scar running from his chick bone to the bottom of his chin. Maybe his relatives or close friends gave him the scar. Maybe he is just paranoid and being stupidly cautious. If it was the crew that I know those that walk strapped with 45, 35, revolver or those who stick machete with cello tapes on their hollow back part. This loud fellah could not live to see the next sunrise. Since he has just confessed that he is a snitch and snitches were either burned partly or get their limbs chopped off depending on what amount of damage he inflicted into the society. Those that snitched and got away with their betrayal acts automatically became the authority's informant and that was the worst they could have done.

Informants were captured, stripped naked and matched across the neighbourhood for everyone to see who they really were.

Later they were taken to their houses and families then torched to the ground to avoid the bad omen of snitching from passing on to the next generation. Those that saw it wise escaped to up country and varnished with time into exile.

The matatu drove for almost 15 meters before coming to a stop. Have you ever come across or even meet up with people who do not care what you say or do not even how you act? Yeah that felt like me for that moment. I did not mind as to where they would have taken me whether it is sewa ot ICC as per now my mind was already settled that I will take whatever thrown at me and everything that comes my way.

"Driver please turn this matatu the other way towards Huruma Nursing Home" Only voices were masking any sense to me, my sights became blurry and the more I struggled to see the more my visions became fainter.

"This boy is hurting and you are busy thinking of Police facilities, drop him first for medication then when he is a bit better then think of your police stations and your laws"

He paused his statement as the matatu made the 3 turn maneuver. I am now hearing murmurings and hecklings. No one is daring enough to utter any negative comment contrary to my human savior. Some are by my side others are just here to fill the ride. My opposers are technically silent with no voice in this life saving debate.

Down the hill the matatu drove at a lighter speed since the driver too has made up his mind and he does not want to be stopped anymore. His time is also running out since he has to drop every passenger to their designations. One after the other we are alighting; no one is by my side at this time. That's when it hit me every man for himself and God for us all. Left and right I'm really struggling to keep my balance and composure. My eyes have landed on the Hospitals door and the slide path for the wheelchairs and stretchers. I can careless.

Most of the viosks have been closed and sellers left for their home other clubs others Churches for the Friday night. The street is dark and empty few houses still have their lights on meaning it is a little bit late, people are indoors and not that asleep yet. My balance is gone falling to the ground on my knee first. Donnex is the only one assist me back to my feet as Humphrey is far ahead of us playing safe at home grounds.

"Let me knock the Hospital door they will open" I told Donnex

'Tic..Tic..Tic.. I gently began to knock on the Hospitals gate, I am gaining more strength as time goes by. No one is showing up tonight for the Hospital is also closed. "Tic..Tic..Tic.. I have added more strength than before and still no one has been seen even unfolding the curtains to check who is knocking.

I can see someone now peeing through the window not knowing the mistake he has just done to confirm that for sure my knockings have not landed on a deaf ear.

I picked a larger rock and banged onto the door harder in the name of knocking, now the sound has become intense and I hear door, buglers around opening. Neighbors are slowly getting concerned with what is taking place.

My dear friends are drifting into shadows for the fear of being affiliated with a shot at somebody. The darkness is swallowing them whole as they disappear into the unlighted corridors.

I am lonely as much as the crowd is starting to gather, I am not feeling their presence at all very lonely indeed. These are just noisy neighbors hunting for tomorrows headlines call them street mitaa paparazzi. Good for nothing but speculations and lies telling. Finally, the un oiled gates went crack, crack as they cracked wide open.

All is white, all is bright as the sunrays piercing through the iron sheets and all is silent.

"Dear Son,

I wish I can make it home before I see my casket, in these streets wars are inevitable and I hope to get it before I kick the ball. Son three holes went on my structure but I took or swallowed them like a whore. If I am dying within my soul is what I don't know, some of my homebody's are fore long gone. Promise that you will hold on until yours dock your shore. Feel free you are a G however do not be like me every time on the streets gambling for the lead. Even though we cannot see how internally and physically we bleed yet deep down we feel how the streets makes us ill, we are locked up in jails no idea what brings today even tomorrow is dark and far away.

Meditate and stay awake in the game, game hard or game home. Protect the fame that brings your name. If you get your mail lady forget about the rest coz like wild fire they spread taking you to your early grave.

Time is coming for you to be the real lead man. Beware of what you will find here creative, productive or massive they are all distractive and going to end here. Open your eyes without fear since Daddy loves you more than candy or grammy.

I will be lying to you if I told you that I knew what was going on at the moment in the real world however what I am sure of is that I tasted a bite of Paradise on earth.

I'm seeing an Angel without wings wearing a smile on his face, the light is so bright seemingly like a mini Sun. The white rays piercing through his skin tone that indeed he is from another planet. Two gold swords are crisscrossed just few steps behind him Im guessing they indicated that door is still not opened for me because why would they be closed at my presence yet im a clean soul!?

I will bear the risk I can take it; I am a man that is my ticket. Baby boy never panic strive until you get it, it is sad as titanic that people want to be what they cannot get or fit. May be it is our fate because we grind to the bait even the police want a piece of the butt. Your grandma always told me," count not your chicks before they hatchet likewise count not your assets before you budget".

Her bone lies in the grave

As she was hijacked by death,

I wish there is a tenth of the tithe

I pay for her return flight.

She still has a re-presenter

Your beautiful queen I hope you get her

Treat her with no fear let her feast from sinia.

Be the singer and always let her feel you near her, unto you baby girl Respect the tool that makes him earn making us smile and overturn.

Do not shiver I am still here for they will never see without fear at all, gradually my body is moving inch by inch, I can feel someone shaking me however I can't see who it is.

The shaking is becoming intense and vigorous as I desperately try to open me blacken lids to see who it is. I cannot tell which condition or environment that I im in as per the moment whether Heaven or Hospital, all is white a dead silence as my hearts keeps pounding that I can feel the hearts beats vibrating my lungs.

There are no rapid changes still boys upon their vengeance, a man after a man's back, when you make music and rap they say you are crap. Since birth we have been entitled for the dirt and if you keep your head higher you will fly free like the kites of Nairobi pass. Live like a King and work for your throne.

They say time heals but our daily wounds never seal, work with siege until you are on top of the league.

I will cradle for your wellbeing as you remember and keep it with you that life is luck and you are living by chance of GODs grace. Revise without fear of juvenile I will not hear, live your life in peace and forge of a legacy you will cherish.

"Wake up Wake up" Says Mwas as the shaking intensifies, I am lying on my right body side in a pool of blood which continues to clots with time. My smelling sense has gone and I feel nostrils blocking every second. I am trying to gasp for deep breathes to attain a sober mind with clear vision, I feel paralyzed as I try to cut the blood clot with my left index finger to see the floor tiles.

I am lying here motionless as I swerve my eyeballs from on corner of the room to the other, they are all staring at me, I feel my eyelids opening wide as much as my sensory nerves are paralyzed. I cannot make any sudden move and every moment I'm trying it proving futile. All their stares are clouded with pain as if they are looking at a dying horse.

"You have disappointed everyone", says Steve Vivi as he slaps my naked thigh not knowing that his sentiments land on a deaf ear since I am no living for anyone but me.

I am lying down half naked all in the name of trying to resuscitate and fix water drip into my vein which bears no fruit. Above my knee I can see a tiny gold like shinning coin protruding on my flesh surrounded by dry blood, I can see the engravings though I cannot clearly read the writings my sight is blurred. My wild guess is that this is a bullet tail or something of that sort, "Is this what is holding me from standing on my feet?" I asked myself.

"Can you still do like this?" Asked Steve as he raised his index finger in the gesture of an erection.

Hahaha they all were laughing as if my genital quitted its duties. I also want to be part of this laugh industry but im afraid it cannot join the band wagon since my nerves are unfamiliar with basic body functions.

Unfortunately, they cannot see my smile however deep within me there is a smile and a rush down my spine. The excitement has triggered a sensational feeling vibrating my body. She lifts my left arm slaps slightly on it then vigorously a couple of times, I can see her chubby chicks wobble as she dropped my arm on the floor.

I blacked out sooner after hearing the last siren sound wiiiuuu.

Another bright moment and how long it lasted I don't know. Meanwhile as the nurses are running up and down so are my home boys out in number as they storm the main road in order to stop any car to facilitate my transportation to the Jomo Kenyatta main Hospital since things are getting out of hand.

It is in the wee hours of the night and they have just stopped a Police land rover, I sure they could not see past the faint headlights of the rover to establish the make of the vehicle.

"Sorry officers we are looking for a car to assist us in transporting our friend although it is not that emergency", Said Jim to the police as they drove uphill to the opposite direction. Little did they know that the victim was shot and I guess the radio calls hasn't hit their airwaves for we have covered quite a distance from the area of scenario.

Besides luck was on their hand since back then no money no police services so it would be another bargaining debate for the police vehicle to offer an assistance. No many cars drove by especially this side of the town Kayole-Masimba and two that passed either were rushing home putting time into consideration, the boy's effort has amounted to nothing. My dad had already made the emergency ambulance call and the vehicle was in route.

Gaining conscious I see my helpless body on a stretcher covered in heavy blankets before the pass out I recall saying that I was feeling cold. The water drip dangles beside my mobile bed up on the iron rod flowing down into the back part of my left palm. Various cables and clear tubes are crisscrossed about my abdomen into my nose,

I can see a more professional doctor with a thin light torch as thin as a pen pointing to my eyeballs lifting slightly my eyelids. "Fungua njia..Fungua njia", Shouted the doctor (make way) as the stretcher slides down the ramp, I'm starting to feel my nerves for there is a chill cold that is running my spine.

The wheels are rolling as I see the pool of clotting blood on the floor from where I've been lying, my eyes are gorged at this site. Two corners then the stretcher moves down the slopes of the nursing home.

The hospitals main gates are wide open, I can see flashes of red and blue bright lights blinking gradually but no sirens to be heard. It's like there is a crime scene unfolding and cops are already at the scene examining the occurrence. "Haha" I can laugh silently like nothing has happened. Eye witnesses, I reporters and rumor mongers are already at the scene to gather information and story to tell of my tale in case I fell a victim of the streets cruelty. They all want a piece of me to bite as much as they cannot chew the story the still want something to ponder with.

The crowd is getting bigger and bigger it's like we are on Sunday after church service, they here to see the victim or me.

As the bed slides down to the waiting ambulance with opened backdoors, I have not seen my dad for a while I guess he is disappointed with me or he is just too busy making sure that my transportation to the main Kenyatta hospital is facilitated.

I can see my girl crush at the time Jerita staring at me her boy crush of the moment who lies on a stretcher, my step mom is also by my side always keeping me warm and encouraging me to hold on to my dear life no to close my eyes on her watch. She has two contradicting statements. Her eyes are like, "Why why why" while words from her tongue says, "You will be alright, you are strong" bearing in mind that my own mother is confined to a bed at Coptic hospital with spine cord failure and she cannot come to see her dying first son and by bad luck if words can reach her of my status, there is nothing she can do at this time.

'Clack..Clack', the bed legs folds as the doctor and operators pushes it into the ambulance.

I feel the silent presence of my boys being swallowed by the magnitude of neighbors, friends and evils ones as their presence is no longer needed or desired around. As the back door of the ambulance conduct with the body so did the caravan speed off. Again I passed out as me why, I do not know.

How long I've I black out and how long has my sanity been away from me? Everything is stealth I can only feel the shaking of the ambulance as it maneuvered through the potholed bumpy roads of Nairobi city trying to find its way to KNH emergency bay. Upon arrival at the entrance is when I notice that my level emergency and urgency to see the doctor deteriorates little by little.

As soon as the doors of the caravan open so did my eyes ready to record and capture new scenes away from the usual. Everything is clear for me now and the smoggy visions that kept visiting my eyesight are nowhere to be seen.

I feel so much alive however still cannot make sudden moves like the 180 degrees of head rotation, my moves are playing out in slow motion and seems to be okay since there is no hurry in Africa.

Another drip hangs low as the empty one leave the camp into the trash bin besides the caravan, as the metal bed disembarks off the ambulance so did the double blanket that covers my body whole leaving my head out. The night is cold and lonely as the March monsoon winds blow through the isle and the hospital corridors filled with stretcher beds. I wonder where people have disappeared to unlike back home where they receiving me with jubilations and silent cheers. I guess I'm now just alone with family members when it comes to facing the bill. Everyone here is going about their sickness business, Doctors are running up and down being trailed with beautiful nurses as if we are in Starehe Boys Centre where students keeps running every time a bell rings, I do not know whether they do it for show off anytime there is a visitor at the vicinity or it is their daily routine.

Their grown professional counterparts over here makes me feel as if there is a drill in progress but no serious issues are happening. I can tell that some night nurses are newly recruits by the looks of their clean and neat uniforms. By the look of things, it seems like tonight we are having many unexpected visitations and the hospitals fraternity are trying as possible as they can to ensure that anyone with medical card and financial stability are treated or attended to their satisfaction.

Blood and bandages are the case of this particular section, instantly the isle is all painted red and white. Reds running in while whites rushing out to receive them. Silver trays stuffed to capacity swings every second of the hour as if you are ArtCafee.

This hospital wing indeed is not for the faint hearted, freshly exposed wounds from head to toe on different body parts, vividly broken body parts, frails who need support, halfway burnt and bruised people patiently waited to become patients. I cannot afford to close my eyes anymore not at this hours of the night when it is this graphical.

My bed has not moved an inch since I arrived half hour ago, humans are still dashing in others finding their way out of the hospital. Babies cries has tainted the silent night while both women and men are sobbing. Others are wailing and weeping for the situation that has befallen either their loved ones, friends or family members. It is quit an interesting place to be at depending on your level of pain and hurting.

The more time passes by the more irrelevant I become to the hospital since my urgency level has dropped from ten at home to 3 at hospital though still the metal slugs has to be removed outer my system.

"How is that Panga (Machete) still stuck on his head?", I asked myself as this man who can barely walk is being supported by a lady and another man as they walk passed me making their way up the entrance, bleeding slightly at the base of the Panga that is sunk half way in his cranium. He seems very weak and in much pain though there are no tear trails of his cheeks or maybe he sobbed his enough share of pain back then.

What crime has he committed to deserve this cruelty or whoever did this what animosity did he/she had on this poor fella? Many questions are filling this night and days to follow as to why did this happen to him. Every second counts and time by time I gain my recovery mode, the scenes are getting more graphical and due to viewers' discretion I cannot avoid them since I'm live at the scene.

His family members seem sharp and clever enough for not pulling the Africa's preferred weapon of choice from his head or maybe they freaked out and panicked by how it was stick stuck. Either way they have made the right decision and wise move for it is advised that only and I repeat only qualified personnel with medical background should handle such cases.

The stretcher has made several stops inside the facility the finally come to a stop, a more populated ward which later would turn to be my recovery room for my entire stay at the hospital. I'm not seeing my stepmom or any familiar face, fear mixed with scary starts to creep in.

The room is 50 by 50 feet, partially dark and illuminated by some bounced rays that reflected inside the recovery garage. I can hear some patient wailing out their pain from far though there is nothing I can do to keep them off their mysteries.

In my depths of solitude, I find myself asking too many questions, "Is it justified to steal simply because you don't have?"

"What shame have I brought to my family and this society?" No one is born a thief and no parent wish their children to turn out criminals in life. The up bring and neighborhood we raise our children in matters a lot in their critical stages of growing up.

"Why did I not reform even after witnessing too much death as a result of crime?", "Why did I indulge in criminalized activities yet my parent is still and much able to cater for my entire needs?", "Is it greed to have flashier things to impress girls and boys or I'm just stupid to match with a group that is destined to fail?"

Will I be forgiven for stealing and not killing or it will not matter at all, why can't we work for the things that we do not have? Why do we enjoy reaping that we never sowed? I cannot believe that I am going to sleep with metal slags in my body. The pain is completely gone or my body just became numb however the guilt cannot leave my thoughts not for a second.

'Kwakla..Kwakla..Kwakla' a stretcher bed making its way into the ward where patients are still half awake, sleep is the cousin of death that takes away its victims in stealth and surprise so my eyes were mostly opened. The sunrays lite the room filling it with life and breathing as much as patients are very sick and needs doctors'/surgeons attentions.

The man behind the human trolley, is a dark skin heavily built in statue, long muscular veins riddled arms all over his exposed flesh. A surgical mask hanged loose around his neck with a cap that looks like a shower cap lol. He wears green overall covered with a white apron and a pair of white rubber gloves. He walks straight and confident, chin raised high and chest popping out,

He seems ready to operate any illness and save the human race, immediately he walks in some of the hosts starts to duck under the bed sheets and lays motionless as if they are asleep. "Hehe it's not your time Wekesa, do not be afraid for your appointment is due in two days' time", His deep voice echoed the room, "we have a new visitor of whom I seek" He exclaimed.

I can now see everyone emerging and peeping off the sheets, all eyes are fixed on my beds direction. The peculiarity of one bed lying at the furthest corner of the room give me worries, It has not moved and I have not recorded any movements on it. The occupant seems motionless.

"Who is Keni Don" He asked as I raise my hand.

"Son do not be afraid like the rest for the procedure is painless and fast" He adds as he helps me to switch bed to the trolley he came in with after examining my body.