There are still good people out there
Benson confused his charger for mine and packed it as
we exited the shelf lounge at the library. Here is his story of a wasted
opportunity to steal and why he chose to be the trustworthy in a sea of
Judases.
BY MUSYOKA NGUI
Wednesday 9th
April I lost my laptop charger under mysterious circumstances in the infamous
Chuka University library.
Throughout
the afternoon I surfed the internet as I revised for next day’s paper. When I
was done I packed my things and went like someone in a huff. Before then, an
old friend I acquired back in 2011, whispered to me (they deem library sacred
to talk normally….that f***king noise thing.)
“Will you
please watch my things I go out and come back? I won’t be long. No one I can
trust here.”
“You are
answering a call of nature or a phone call or both? I am on my way out man”, I
said to Benson Mbugua.
“No it is
this laptop. The owner needs it like yesterday.”
“Let’s do this;
Kabiru is over there give him your books he looks after them. I go now with you
because I was too logging out.”
It was
getting late and cold was penetrating slowly through the clothes.
He went out. I followed. Bad day.
It ended so cruelly.
I went
straight to my room and because the battery was full, it took so long to
realize that my charger was missing. I started my usual afterhours chores.
Cleaning shoes off sticky mud, washing dishes, cooking and watching an investigative
documentary to unwind.
For some reason, Purity panicked
when she realized that her Desktop PDF handout was missing. She rushed to my
place begging to have a look. Her virus invested flashdick was immediately
eaten up by my ruthless Avast. Zain’s laptop was the carrier. She faithfully
carried it like it was a newborn baby.
“What do we do now? “
“What?”
“Your PC has no charge. “
I hurriedly
looked for the charger in my bag. Nothing. Again. Zero. The rice was steaming
away as the gas roared mercilessly after timing when I am broke to run out.
It hit me
as a thunderbolt that I had lost it just like that. I tried to remember the
last moments I had with my beloved charger. I was devastated. 2000/- extra shillings and no guarantee that the new
charger will not be fake. Chinese everywhere gobbling up resources like
leeches.
Purity
warns me not to try to even search for it. She forgot hers on the shelves and
in under 10 minutes she theef was done and dusted. These comrade thievses give
everyone of us a bad name. just recently one tried to break into my house via a
window. Read here: then this one now. Don’t they know we need a break.
I clicked
and cursed. And the way they have milked every opportunity to humbly borrow my
16GB Transcend Flash: the largest known yet this side of Mt. Kenya.
“I am transferring
this Adobe CS6 for Desktop .Please, please I will return”. I would later remind
the comrade my patient is running out and I too have a shortage of virtues. I
don’t hesitate to blast anyone who thinks he or she can waste my time. Sipendi
ujinga.
How
foolish I was to soften my heart and give them a second chance. When they lost
my lid I thought it was normal. Now they came for my documents. Corrupted.
Formatted. Frustrated. S**t. such are the times when sorry is not enough. I am
like will that apology bring back my documents? C’mon give me a sign I can take
to the bank, cheap liar.
The mother
of all despair came just a week before the semester ends. I wondered what
excuse I will give my readers for not seeing my BlogSpot this Sunday. What will
I tell my IT savvy friends as I routinely borrow laptop charger like it was a
phone charger. For how long can I sustain this? How will they take me?
Some
already indicated that I count them out.
One retorted: What were you doing
there? Don’t you know that thieves are on prowl these last moments?
I kept silent. I am not a novice.
I have seen it all. Cameras gone. Victims evoking witchcraft curses, parental
condemnation, spiritual intervention, luck, magic and miracle.
Mine was
not a miracle. I just stumbled on a nice gentleman who was taught by his mother
to return what does not belong to him. He has never forgotten the lesson. And
so as I received that maiden call from Benson, who did not have my number in
the first place, I contemplated that it is the prison convicts again calling to
hack my MPESA account.
I let the
call hang. I picked the number and tried it. It lost network. One, two, three
attempts.
“Musyoka, I have your charger.
Where are you so that I give it to you?”
“Oh, who is this/Benson/OK. Let
me give you a contact you drop it. Science Complex. Third Floor. Thanks a lot.”
As I
terminated the call I believed I did not say enough. I did not do enough. Thank
you was not enough. A tip may be. I did not want to seem to buy him though I
could. There are still good people out there.
The
writer is a student of Bachelors of Arts Degree in Communication and Media at
Chuka University. He blogs at musyokangui.blogspot.com
Email
your thoughts to musyokangui02@gmail.com
