*The following story is true. However, it has been doctored for special effect. The writer doesn’t use any illegal drugs, nor drugs not prescribed by the doctor.*
Crazy Story. Believe it or not. If you know about this, don’t confirm any of it in my comments section. This happened back in the day, when I was a bit crazier than I am now. * life has definitely tamed me* If anyone asks me about this, I will deny it. I will deny it like Charles Taylor’s lawyer at the ICC.
Earlier that night, mimi huyo nikapitia base na beste yangu flani, tukapiga mbili tatu vipolite, masaa yake. The night was very young and looked like it could go some type of way. It’s a Wednesday, so there is a game going on, The Champions League, Internazionale vs FC Barcelona, sitawahi sahau. Sisi hao tunapeleka jug yetu polepole, Messi akipeleka Handanovic shopping polepole pia. The game is almost over, our keg is almost kalassing and so is our money, another friend of mine walks in, anatuona, inabidi afulize alafu anaagiza jug ingine fresh and we keep at it like the Kardashians, shenanigans and all, staring at babes from a distance, the night inakaa kushika na pia zinashika, Dj hapo base anaguza kareggae ya Shaggy na Neyo, Wasee wa jaba wako zao pia polepole na njugu na sprite wanakaa professor Hamo bila kisomo but life is good and that is all that mattered at that point. I look at my watch, giza imeshikana, na nikishika mfuko nadhani niko na dooh, kumbe ni jaba… We decide to go sleep since our pockets were asleep… We takeoff on the last rocket, ndogogio mbaya. Tukaamua tupitie msee wetu wa mali kama kawaida ju sisi ni gang kukiwasha, morio akatujenga mbichwa kadhaa enough to make two puff sticks.
So we get to the house, Ozark Sn 2 is on and we light up, zinatushow. A few moments later, my friend decides to take a nap. 20 minutes in, I am sure I heard a gunshot. Not sure if it was the Ozark show or the outdoors, I’m probably tripping because this show also has some fireworks. Nalenga. So I keep watching. About 20 minutes later, I hear a knock at the door. Being a crazy neighborhood, I decide to peep through the window before I open up, lucky me. I think the whole police force was outside my door. As I said. Believe it or not. Before I can act, “Kijana, usisonge nimekuona! Fungua hapa!” Damn. I just smoked a joint in here, you people want a session or something? Obviously singewauliza. So I open the door under strict instructions not to even twitch. Kibao na si vodka. Ya kwanza. Ya pili. Ya tatu. These policemen must come from Mr Bones’ Kuvukiland with the way they greeted me with slaps… Maswali yanakuja na makofi ni magumu kushinda dondoo ya Ken Walibora… Kijana unaitwa nani? Kwenu ni wapi? Wewe ni wa Arsenal? Dame yako anaitwa nani? Each question with a slap of its own, very hard questions remembering I was very not sober at the moment. So I try to move backwards and to shield myself from all the slaps, never forget that a policeman is trained for years, has a perfect set of teeth and can f*ck you up at hand to hand combat, wait… Is it even combat or a beating?
My friend is blacked out, but you know he’s about to come back to the land of the living because some popos run to him and kick him tf in his guts, he gets up, adrenaline and all ready to strike, only to have a guy kick him in the stomach, again, then one two three slaps. Kama kawaida. Everyone in the room has either a gun, a baton or handcuffs, the drugs just get out of my system in time to answer a few questions before my body is destroyed na hawa wajamaa. After some serious interrogation and beating, mbona huku kunanuka bangi? *paaaa! , iko wapi? *paaa! Tumemaliza yote mkubwa. Kijana, kwani wewe ni Al Shabaab, hii kitabu ni ya nini? *points at my Quran* They proceed to search the room and find a roach we had left, as they explain why they are here, not directly of course. My friend happens to be half Luo half Zulu, yes, Zulu like Shakka from South Africa, and he gets the most of the beating. Just because he’s not Kenyan. The guy was born in Kenya, has a Kenyan ID, went to Kenyan schools, is dating a Kenyan girl, even knows the price of Unga. By this point, my body has tapped out, tired, in pain, and still getting beatings from different officers. Mtu akiingia kwa room, paaaa! Some officer hits me on the knee with a rungu, and we all know how that is, uchungu mpaka kwa spinal cord, I still have a slight limp to show it, I can’t run normally and my dream was to be like Kipchoge Keino… They proceed to search the whole place as if they were looking for explosives… They should have searched for Arror and Kimwarer and NYS funds like that, but anyway…
Saa tano inafika bado sisi ni search tu. Maneighbors wameshangaa, no one is asleep, the whole apartment kila mtu ako awake, naskia mmoja akisema “Hawa vijana wa M8 wako na tabia mbaya, pereka hao ndani afande,” says the mama that did not have cooking oil nikampea, juzi tu! So they take us, cuff us, – at least I can say I was cuffed😒 – tunaenda kulala ndani on a Wednesday night! So we are thrown ndani ya Mariamu and all I can say is thank God because this beating I was getting was getting serious. I text another friend of mine, inform them and proceed to switch off my phone. Tumejazwa hapo nyuma, hata wangeeka kareggae ziendelee kushika. I am pretty sure the ofissas were not sober themselves, the rover reeked of Chang’aa. Tunaenda tu rounds kwanza kushika watu wengine, hadi inajaa kushinda gari za Embassava, alafu tunapelekwa stenje kujibu mashtaka…huko kwa station tena, vita, this time, boots tu, kama umepokea hizo boots za karao unaeza peana ushuhuda kanisani, si kazi rahisi, unachukua pounding ukinyongwa kama monkey. Ushawahi ingizwa kwa cell,alafu mtolewe huko ndani, muoshe hio cell alafu mrudi huko ndani? I had only seen that in Ozark in the previous episode…huko pia ni kachamber flani na mmejazwa hapo kama matchsticks kwa kibiriti ya kifaru yenye niliwasha nayo hio ndom… Lakini ni sawa. 12 hours later, I am allowed my first phone call, at a fee of course. To be released, each of us has to give ten thousand Kshs. That’s 20k, for smoking two joints worth 100kshs. Utumishi kwa wote, either tutumikie mfuko ama tutumikie kifungo. So we part with our cash, mchango hapa mchango pale, and I can’t stop thinking, Maan, 20k sahii tungekua na shamba ya mali…They threatened us with more jail time, ingefika Friday usiku kama hatujalipa, tungelala ndani hadi Monday. Na Monday asubuhi, tungeenda Korti bila Koti…By Friday, around 6pm, we get released and other friends pick us from the station.
Basically, my encounter with the Kenya Police was an awful experience, it has left me traumatized and with a limp on my left leg. I don’t even regret that I have been in jail. I am just happy I’m not in their hands anymore. Police brutality has been a thing in this nation;the police has been a pack of hungry dogs peeling Kenyans, hard working Kenyans, off of their hard earned cash, whether right or wrong.
You can never trust a hyena to guard the sheep.
IPOA is asleep. Police get away with everything and I am left asking myself, why? Aren’t the police as human as we are? Is this something that I should get used to? Will my child one day meet the police and feel safe? What happened to the roach I was smoking in the house? Is it still there? What is my name? My brain is still in shock…
Msitense watu wangu. This was a while ago. Sahii, mi hutembea na bakora…