Mathew Wasambo

The misconception of Bob Marley Songs

Mathew Wasambo
@mathewwasambo202825

8 months ago

TWO SIDES OF THE SPLIFF

Seated inside his run-down metal shack in the middle of Mathare Valley in Nairobi, ‘Brigadier’ Otis took one last puff of the almost burnt-out stub of marijuana he was smoking. He took a puff on it, deeply inhaled, exhaled, and watched dreamily as the cloud of smoke formed shapes as it drifted up towards the battered iron sheet roof that had seen better days. The morning sunlight rays seeping through holes in the roof illuminated the smoke and formed kaleidoscopic clouds giving him a feeling of euphoria and relaxation. He stood up and shook his waist-long dreadlocks to the rhythm of Bob Marley’s ‘Africa Unite’ streaming from the speaker of his cellphone. Baba, the opposition leader, had sent a clear message. Demonstrations! It was the only weapon that would fight the corrupt government and bring back democracy. The word started echoing in his mind as he paced around his messy shanty room where socks cried for their partners and divorced shoes screamed for their spouse. Dirty laundry provided cover for rats and refuge for lice and bedbugs that shared the room with him. Finally, after finding a matching pair of worn-out pair of Timberland boots, he put them on, laced up the boots, and sat on his creaky metal bed.
‘UDA must go. Baba has declared!’ He kept on chanting to himself as he forced his dreadlocks through the opening of the white t-shirt and straightened it out to reveal; ‘UDA MUST GO!’ printed in black on the front of the t-shirt. Today he was going to lead his ‘army’ in demonstrations and voice out their antipathy towards the newly elected government in the streets of Nairobi. The brigadier stood up, plugged his earphones into his phone, and stepped out into Mathare Valley slums chanting ‘Buffalo Soldier’ as he headed towards Nairobi City. He was going to fight for Baba.
Meanwhile, three kilometers away inside a corrugated metal sheet house, in a police camp in Ruaraka, Sergeant Rotich took one last puff from the spliff he was smoking and passed it to his neighbor Njoroge – a curtain away next door. Rotich drifted away humming to the sounds of Bob Marley’s ‘Crazy Baldheads’. He cranked up the volume and turned his attention to Njoki, Njoroge’s wife. He couldn’t help ogling at her as she entered the room they shared, wrapped in a towel, and disappeared behind the bed bug-infested curtain that separated the two officer’s privacy. He felt jealous as they kept giggling and laughing behind the curtain.
“One of these days I will teach this neighbor a lesson,” he contemplated.
“This Njoki keeps turning me on as she passes here half-naked thinking that I am a priest.” He said to himself as he sat on his bed thinking of the mad and erotic love he would make to her as he caressed his loins. He gazed at the floor littered with the latest gadgets and mobile phones that he had taken away from broken stores and demonstrators he had arrested the previous day. He knew today's business would be far much better. ‘Today was the mother of all demonstrations’, as Baba had promised his army of demonstrators.
‘Those stupid demonstrators will have it rough today,’ he thought to himself.
“Njoroge!” he shouted. “Stop joking around. Let us go and clobber Baba’s idiots!” He shouted at his neighbor as he picked up his club and shield.
Njoroge emerged from behind the curtain looking disappointed while trying to zip up his khaki pants and button his jungle jacket. He picked up his riot gear and took one last puff from the burning spliff.
“Let’s go.” he ushered to Rotich as they made their way out. He winked and blew a kiss at his wife and left the house. They were going to fight demonstrators fighting for their democracy.
Brigadier Omosh lay on the ground his orange t-shirt now almost crimson as the red blood formed an Adire appearance to it. The words on the t-shirt now read …UDA MUST, as the blood had made the other words on it undecipherable. Njoroge whisked the pockets of the dead body and pulled out a cell phone and three rolls of marijuana. He kicked the lifeless body of the Brigadier and prodded it with his baton just to make sure the man was dead. He looked at Njoroge standing beside him with a smoking gun and smiled at him.
“This crazy baldhead is finished”, he said as they charged forward to look for the next demonstrator.

15
8 months ago

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