Okay. Kinda like a hekaya. I was getting into the second month in Nairobi after leaving the UK. On a lazy afternoon I get a call from an unknown number. I answer and it turns out it’s my former college mate Charles. He had just heard I was back and he had a business idea that needed a willing partner and, yes, funding.
Long story short, he wanted to start an electronics import business. He told me he had connections in Dubai and Qatar for tax free stuff and could have them brought in through the corrupt customs officials at Eldy. He had even spotted a ground floor spot along luthuli where we could set up our base. Perfect for ‘walk-ins’ is what he said. Silly me, I was loaded with cash and was looking for something worthwhile to invest in on the side. This Charles guy had read through my mind since hearing the news of my coming back, or so it seems. I got in and I mean balls deep, sinking 1.6m of my cash in it.
It then turns out the guy’s paro had just retired and were relocating upcountry and the unemployed spoilt fella was out left on his own. I was his saviour, me and my foolishness. Always trusting and sheet.
The ‘connections’ he had were some miraa chewing somalis and arabs in pangani. We managed to import some TVs and Sound systems anyway, but the total cost and headache made it easier to just source them locally. The online thingy had not sprung up yet and boy did I pay rent for three months from my own pocket (when you have invested so much, you get attached so bad you sink in further and further). Sometimes I would pass by after sneaking from work and find he had made two, three sales but guy wasn’t recording the sales. This went on until I woke up and found he was replenishing the stock with knockoffs from down the street. One thing led to another and I got off with some of the stock and left him on his own. The stress was hard on me, I couldn’t even get a boner for 4-6 months straight.
7 years later I come across the guy hapa ngara in the company of some cheap looking hindi kunguch. Nigga amechafuka kama ghasia with signs of a heavy hitting depression. He couldn’t even make eye contact. After a few chats he told me business was focken great and was selling ex-UK printers and gaming rigs. Guy’s phone is a kabambe. His grey addidas sports shoes were turning white, lacking suede. He had even cut alot of weight. We parted ways with I giving him fake promises of getting him a gig at my firm. Umbwer tu.
What goes around always comes back around. Poor cursed fellow heri angefuata wazee wake mashinani ;).