The Chase: Part One

Part I

This is a story of an average adult in your normal developing (read Third world) Country out to make a cut of the cake out of the chase!

The Chase


You wake up. Perhaps late or probably just in time. May be you just managed to wake up on your own like the fair minority. Instincts are wild that you belong to the majority who an alarm need sound to come alive. Sorry if you keep missing the alarm. Shame on you if you keep snoozing, you know? Hoping that some factors just worked out right No, wait, hoping that your dear parents jolted to reality and said “look kid, keep off this chase thing, we are rich, all these was only meant to introduce you to responsibility.” Then you will murmur some hearty prayers to the God of Abraham and cover up head to toe as the rest of us face reality; the chase. Not unless yours is a movie scene.

I suppose you are the good planner type. You knew hell well that you were to leave early in the morning. It induced you to plan up the previous dusk. In what case you put everything in good order and ironed before retiring to bed. Yet again it’s highly possible that you are from the larger segment. The one that proudly says YOLO; You Only Live Once but my friend Wams Keeps insisting it is; You Only Luhya Once! Thing is they brand themselves, rather they are the self-proclaimed hip-hop generation. “Kid, look, tomorrow will snarl in with its own miseries tucked for us to unravel” is their silent mantra. As if life is all about solving miseries. In which case, you wake up and there and then you helter skelter with preparations. A quick shower, a quick dress-up, some toothbrush and a glass of water, quick breakfast then in a dink of a second you are off! Look, here “Quick” becomes your-in-thing. War unto you if the alarm sounds long before you wake up, for even quick alone won’t save anything. I don’t profess to know but perhaps it will make some cool if the entire clan is summoned upcountry and family prayers are called. You kneeling in between a cluster-circle of elders, hands across the chest. Wait, does the chase even allow you to make that trip upcountry?

Off and away from your crib you go. You are determined. Its morning. The sun is yet to set up its tools of torture above your head and burn your scalp like you are earmarked for doom. It’s all but positivity that oozes out of you. So they say in Africa and every day, a Lion wakes up knowing it has to outrun the slowest deer lest it starves to death. On the other hand, a deer wakes up knowing that it has to outrun the fastest Lion lest it’s turned into a sumptuous delicacy for Mr. Lion’s family that evening. The chase is real and the world such a jungle of gamblers. You know why chaps go to school to study Accounting? No. Yes. I don’t know. The world runs on figures and thus they say figure don’t lie. Now you know. You don’t yet? Okay to cut the long story shorter, thing is for you to earn a cent, someone somewhere must lose it and as that someone lose it, they device a mechanism to earn yet another cent. Unknown or known to them, some other smart guy tucked away in a remote area is hushing up a mechanism to make them lose their earn once more. It’s what has kept the chase livened centuries on. Someone will introduce the Hierarchy of needs but that’s a story for another day.

Allow I delve into that a little bit; it starts right inside your crib. Let’s start from when you jolt out of that bed. The one you saved a lifetime to buy. It’s magical as you touch the wall and light glitters overhead you exposing your forming but yet to be seen bald-head to the silence of the morning which doesn’t care. It’s virgin with arrogance. Don’t worry yet, baldness is a sign of wealth! Just as bulging stomachs (just came up with that hehe.) Just around then, someone somewhere is using technology to bill you for that light. Yes you need gas to fix breakfast if you care to. It reminds me of John De Rockefeller of the famed Standard Oil in that “Men who built America Documentary” he said the world runs on fuel. Sure it does for somebody somewhere is re-stocking their gas business. You make haste to hit the Shower and Yebo! The taps run wet with water. Sure that’s a bill on you! It’s not scary. Sorry these statistics mean nothing even if you consult with Tom Wolf. Don’t get just too keen. Read on…

Where were we? “At that point where you had just left the house” Good reminder, buy yourself a sweet for that! There you are, you left the house and by all means you will need some means of transport to wherever you are heading to. It’s you am talking to. So you head to the bus station adjacent to your hood. Some vehicle checks in. Some middle-aged bachelor with a hair style worse than Mutua Mathekas is yelling his chest out in a desperate bid to coerce people to get into his mat like there’s any other alternative. “Does he care the number of kids he jolts from sleep that hour of the morning?” “Bastered noise maker!” you curse. You board the mat, not that he convinced you with his yelling in anyway. It’s all but out of convenience but someone will drop a coin in his hand for you getting on board. Desperate hassle!

The weather is gloomy. You were lucky enough to have a wooly-sweater on. You seat just adjacent to a window and keep glancing outside as you breathe in the morning cold, you can feel it. The speed is picking up. Moist forms on the window glass. Across the window you stare into the outside world. You feel lucky. A throng of chaps are walking on foot at a speed faster than that of a Probox. You remember it’s never ever in your mind to ever own one for its primary role is misplaced. Even if the gods play their cards in your favor and you walk home loaded with a sportpesa Jackpot! I mean that thing loads entirely everything. Betting is not your damn thing but you know chaps who literally live off betting though they struggle to call it a side hassle. You think Sportpesa Knows them personally because they keep “winning” unknown to you is the fact that they keep using cash to bet. It’s a win-lose scenario kind of. It has to balance off. I mean chaps with brains half of yours spent four years in school for that…

Proceed here..The Chase: Part Two


3 thoughts on “The Chase: Part One

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