Mwalimu Andrew

A few years ago, while visiting Mwisho wa Lami, my cousin Kizito came to see me. “Bro, as you know, age is not on the side of my mzee, Alphayo,” he began. “He has to visit the hospital every now and then. Since I live in Nairobi, there are times I may ask you to take him. You are the only person he trusts to accompany him.” In 2022, I accompanied Mzee Alphayo to Kakamega General Hospital.

When we left each other here the other week, the entire Mwisho wa Lami was preparing for my dowry negotiations at Fiolina’s home. I say the entire Mwisho wa Lami because by then the event had ceased to be my affair. It had become a community project. As for me, I had reservations. Not about Fiolina. Fiolina is a wonderful woman—the laugh of my life. If anything, she is one of the few sane people I know. My concern was the financial implications of the exercise.

When we parted ways here last week, the people around me were in the middle of planning a visit to Fiolina’s family for dowry negotiations. I am not a fool when I say the people around me were doing the planning. I had taken a step back from the process because the people around me saw themselves as more knowledgeable than I was. Even as this was going on, little did I know that some enemies of development were up to mischief, with the intention of bringing me down.