On December the 15th 2010 or thereabouts I was mugged. Before this incidence occurred I hadn’t really written in a while and below is a transcript of the events that occurred and my reason for writing about them as written nearly 2 years ago: (for everyone who already read this on facebook just skip to the end to find out the reason am trudging up this piece of my past.)
The reason I’m writing this is so that I can avoid telling this story more than once. I didn't enjoy the experience and I could not find anything worth laughing at and for those who know me this is a big deal. So if you will ever be inclined to ask me how I lost my phone read on, if not cool, but there'll be no encores of this experience.
On Wednesday night I had attended a musical concert at the museum and there was this lady there who could play the violin like a siren, it screamed for attention and sang like nothing I’d ever heard before. At the end my cousin and I decided to walk the small stretch of the path between museum hill and chiromo to get a matatu home. It was a very easy walk conversation flowed and we were completely at ease, completely. Then it began, I have thought severally of how to best describe this moment because it was most severe, like the breaking of a storm on calm waters or think back to that old gag in TV shows where a glass door is so polished that someone walks right into it, yes exactly like that except instead of falling back and rubbing my forehead in bemusement I crashed right through the door and the sound of breaking glass and the sensation of a free fall and the pain of the splinters was my life for the next few minutes. Not knowing whether it would or could end.
They came out of nowhere, they rose out of the ground and I was grabbed in the classic "ngeta" style elbow around my neck, lifted off the ground and deposited like a broken marriage's engagement ring on the floor. Hating to use the cliché I sensed rather than saw the four guys surround me and the other two run ahead. Then I began to struggle kicking and screaming and clawing and seeming like I would never give in. But. If you've watched the watchmen you remember the scene where Dr. Manhattan splits himself into 3 when he's in bed with that chic. It was a violent version of that, there were hands everywhere searching every one of my pockets as I continued to kick and scream and claw. As I kicked I felt the sole of my shoe start to come undone and amid this violence this is what came to my mind, my shoes will be fucked in the morning. Totally fucked. Then one of the hands cupped a sensitive area and I stopped fighting not wanting to doom my lineage “they can take my money my phone but I will not give away my family jewels".
So I lay docile as a lamb and became a victim. I have to confess something about me here I have never been caned in school and have never received violence I did not deserve and it’s a whole different ball game. I lay there under a deluge of blows, I never understood that expression till just then they rained blows down on me and I remember this one guy stepping on my stomach over and over and even now as I write this bile rises up in me he didn't have to do that. They had my phone and my money and they would not let me go. They continued as I lay there curled in the foetal position letting go some of the most curdling screams I could muster hoping for a saviour finding none. And the fact that it was undeserved just augments the situation I was being beaten for no fucking reason and for once reason failed me completely and chaos took its place and my mind was assaulted much more than my body there. finally I was let go I could feel the cut on my lip as some of the skin sloughed off and I had only 3 distinct memories, the beginning as they grabbed me, the soles of my shoes coming apart and this fuck stepping on my stomach. I stood up and walked away dazed.
I don't like talking about this so this is my one and only press release I included all the details I could remember and I don't think I have anything to add, except maybe an overlay of that violin music.
And this incident was what set me back on the path of writing, a lost phone and a beating. Well I entered this blogging competition on the fk website(fk is the Norwegian peacecorp program, the same one that’s funding my internship in Norway.) and I won. I won an i-pad. To think that if they hadn’t taken my phone away all those years ago I would never know what it’s like to win an i-pad, so this one’s to you boys, hope you enjoyed the phone, hope the, at most 1,500 shillings that a nokia as old as the one I was carrying around kept the 5 or 6 of you happy for some time. Enjoy your spoils because am going to be loving mine!