The House with No Food
The girl telling me this story has a cat. A beautiful dark grey feline with silver tips named Stormi. Like all cats, he is playful and fun and poops in the bathroom. But I was allergic to him [my first experience ever of being allergic to a furry] and it broke my heart. We had to throw Stormi out while she told me this story, and it may have been his sad meows at the door or my nose slowly blocking and my throat choking up that made this story a little difficult to follow. Some parts may be fabricated and some may have holes that the human brain may not be able to explain, but I thought it was a good story, and I hope you do too.
When I asked how she preferred to be referred to, she said I should “use something close to her name (wink emoji) something interesting” and in that moment, I wanted to call her Stormi. If I can’t hold the cat, I could at least use its name for something bigger than that. Stormi [the owner, not the cat. Try to keep up] had to tell this story twice to me, the first time in full- while my sinuses acted up in a way I have never seen before, and the second time- when I had her text me the first part of the story that led them to where the real story took place.
She and her friends (B, T, L and S) work hard during the week. They are all ladies in their twenties who are doing businesses to keep themselves afloat. For their hard work, they like to take themselves out, you know, just the ladies. See some nice sh*t, touch some wild sh*t and eat some good sh*t [I know someone who writes ‘isht’. Makes me chuckle every time].
“So my friends and I decided to go unwind and do something fun,” she texts on WhatsApp. “We were five girls [mentions names but says I should change them, hence the letters above]. After an afternoon at Giraffe Center we decided to go get cocktails at Galleria mall.”
While there, they were invited by T’s friend – Brian – to go out. They said they wanted to eat first before going out but Brian was having none of it. After all, here was 5 girls on a Saturday evening ready for an evening to remember. No Brian will pass that up. He told them to get an Uber to Westlands, to Djavu [a club, I gathered]. He would take care of the bills; alcohol, food, even the Uber. What bevy of girls is going to refuse an all-expense paid evening of food and alcohol? [PS. I’ve always wanted to use this ‘bevy’ word in real life. Can you see my dreams coming true or is it just me?]. They went for what Stormi calls a “G walk” behind the mall, and I am going to let you decipher what that is on your own rather than spoon feeding you my hunches. Then they got an Uber to Westy. “On getting there, this guy was so friendly, invited us in, ordered a bigger table so we could all sit, and got drinks and food. We had so much fun.”
Brian lives in Karen. He started hinting at going back to his place as soon as they were all tipsy. L and S, who are sisters, opted out. They claimed to have some work still left to do at home, so they had to go. Stormi, B and T however could stay out a little longer. They went to Brian’s place after the club. When this house was described to me, it felt like the White House. Serene and big on the outside, chaotic and cluttered on the inside. “It’s a big house,” Stormi said. “Big enough to look like a family lived there. Large gate, own compound. You know, the kind of houses you expect to find in Karen.
In the house was a couple, mzungu girl and her Kenyan king. She specified that it was a mzungu so I feel you too need to be told this. Counting them, there was now 6 people in this house – Her, B, T, Brian, and the couple. Now by this time, T and Brian had coupled up as well, which makes me think that this was the reason the girls were invited out in the first place. The table was laden with bottles of alcohol, “everything from gin to whiskey and vodka”. The kitchen had paper cups all over. The kitchen is brought up because B and Stormi, the only two people without cuddle heat, were looking for food to warm themselves up.
“Wait,” I interrupt. “There was no food?”
“Yes! Imagine there was no food”
I cannot imagine it. What house with human beings has all this alcohol and no food? No. scratch that. What house in Karen has no food? Where are people’s priorities? My M-PESA balance could be 0.03 but I will find a way to have food in the house! Call a parent, befriend the mama mboga, send a smoke signal for goodness sake. I was still stuck on the ‘No Food Phenomenon’ when the story suddenly transformed to where everyone was in bed. Three bedrooms were used; the mzungu couple in one, Brian and T in another and Stormi and B in the last one. Stormi too only remembers turning at night and finding B in bed beside her [I think she passed out with the shock of not finding food].
The next part of this story had me worried about a number of things, and laughing through the rest. This may also be the reason that parts of it are vague and some parts really stick out. Morning came, [and I am tempted to say birds were chirping and to give a description of a beautiful sunrise]. We wake up with T first, who slept with Brian. When she opened her eyes, she saw a girl, in her twenties, sitting on the bed just staring at her. I don’t know what goes on in your head when you wake up to a strange face looking right at you. No one can know this feeling, unless you go through it. and I could not find T to have her explain it to me. So we’ll assume she was freaked out, for lack of a better expression.
The new girl started arguing with Brian, she saying he was cheating on her and him that they had broken up. This went on for a while, with T and Brian still naked and the girl still on the bed. There was already a commotion, which got everyone in the house up and listening at the door. Seeing that it was not going to end any time soon, T got dressed while the two were still going at it and left the room to tell Stormi what had happened. She was hurt. Brian was a jerk. He had a girlfriend and still made a pass at her. She felt lied to. As T was pouring her heart out, the door to Brian’s room was slammed open and they came out to the common room, with things still heated up [This was a whole lot to absorb on an empty stomach, right].
“You still didn’t get food?” I ask.
“Oh, I didn’t tell you? Brian ordered some pizzas at night”
[Phew! We can now breathe through the fight] which went on for a long time. At one point, the girl, who Stormi refers to as “The psycho girlfriend” came out with a knife, claiming she would “katakata kila mtu”. Now you know you are where you are not supposed to be when something happens and the first thing you think of is “what will my mom think when she is called ati I was katakatwad in Karen and she pays rent for Rongai?” and that thought scared the sh*t out of you, because if you survive that hospital bed, your mom will hold it over your head for as long as she lives. She may even haunt you with it. Imagine it: you are a grandma of 68, your grandkids are out on the backyard playing and you see an apparition of your mother saying “You remember when I got a call that you were hurt in Karen? Yet I had called the previous night and you said you were in Rongai? Those were the days huh?” Now you are the grandma who poops her pants every time because your mother haunts you with a situation you had no control over.
Anyway, this psycho girlfriend and Brian were an on and off couple. The girl is the jealous type. Like crazy jealous. The boy says he has had enough, but still seems to go back. I guess everyone knows their poison. Also… did you notice they didn’t have breakfast?
I just think that house needs food. Blood sugar is dangerous when low.
[Hey you. Yes, you. Do you have an Alcoholics Anonymous story? Any experience with alcohol counts. Send me an email on firstname.lastname@example.org and we’ll work on telling your story. Cheerio]
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