Campus Gullibility: Duped in the City Twice in a Day

Part Two   Continued from

The questions we were asked  were very rhetorical and kind of bordered towards idiocy than Miranda rights. I think anxiety and the fact that I did fright on the notion of  being interned made me suffer from bouts of amnesia. My mind went blank. Virtually, I don’t remember the questions that we were asked as they were uttered in a manner reeking of malice. It was so traumatizing. What I however remember was being asked why we were brewing something by crowding in the city either to mug passersby or to raid a shop as our attire showed we were plausibly city miscreants.

Then we saw Don, Hans and Felix laughing. We thought they were laughing at our plight. As good friends they should have been helping us by even defending us or offering solace. They should at the very least even have tried making phone calls or sympathized with us even if they could not face the askaris head on.

Then to our utter amazement we were told to smile to the cameras. The trick had worked. The askaris were very excited. They had caught us red handed and unawares. Trust you me, incidences like these are even more exciting upon recollection. Having not watched local television content for long, we were not able to make out that those were the people who prank unsuspecting citizens to get content for their program. 

Unfortunately, we were addicts of Breaking Bud, GOT, Big Bang, The Originals and countless other series and movies downloaded freely from ADD, the only place where one can download at relatively high speeds while messing up with YouTube and Social Media.

The pranksters went ahead to find some other incredibly susceptible people using their hidden cameras and high end voice recording devices. Watching two ladies being confronted and later realizing that they had been pranked was even more fascinating. For a while, we forgot about the task at hand and watched others being tricked by this witty and calculating duo of askaris.

Soon the drama ended and we were back to business. I had not noticed that more than three hours of valuable time had passed while we were still lounging like untamed beasts. The scorching sun was radiating raucously and we gathered with people of the same cause to a nearby shade.

The verdict was announced and in due course, ululations, screaming and sounds of vuvuzelas rented the air. We were told to gather together and wait for the contestant to come and brief us on the way forward.

I remember being asked by a certain young lass of European descent to tell her the turn of events of what the fuss was all about. My friends had painstakingly tried engaging her in a dialogue but she snubbed them living some red faced. I think she felt I was the one well placed to answer her query. I briefly told her the turn of events before she sluggishly made an exit after lolling around for a while. After her exodus, I remember Bernard prodding me as to why I had not seized the superb opportunity by having the audacity to chat up the lady and probably getting her number. Henceforth in the event we failed getting paid, I would have walked away smiling. But I never seized the opportunity, unlucky me. Talk of being ludicrous at onset of avalanche.

While we were waiting, the genuine hired crowd from the shanties looked at us with menacing eyes. They had not seen us before and the fact that most people know each other in the slums or at least have a clue on people who reside in the locality they share made them suspicious.

We were not perturbed. All we wanted was the money. The politician soon came and women and youthful lads did welcome him with a lot of pomp and glamour. He was in a convoy of three fuel guzzlers. He waited for the women to finish singing and enchanting praises before addressing us on the victory, though it was partial as another plebiscite had to be conducted to ensure he becomes an MP. 

What followed was something I had never witnessed before. Women went in front of his vehicle with the other lads as they sang songs in praise of the lawyer as the convoy crisscrossed the streets causing some traffic snarl up. We were also supposed to also act wild and berserk but fearing being caught on camera again, we walked by the sides so as not to appear among the crowd that had gone hysterical.

The scenes I saw that day were at best are what I usually see on TV when riots break out or when fellow students demonstrated when they are dissatisfied with the turn of events in campus. As much as this was peculiar, it was also very indulging. I for once wanted to join the women but my pride would not let me.

All this while we were still waiting to be given our day’s eke. Big Mike had joined the convoy and was hanging on the doors as the convoy snaked sluggishly. The next venue was supposed to be NMG offices where the politician was to address journalists and supporters.

Wise, we did not accompany the convoy as it made its way to the media premises. We went straight outside the offices to wait for the politician and our due pay. The convoy would take longer in the jam.

But the wait never materialized, we had been duped. We stood there waiting for more than an hour again waiting for the politician to come and address us. That was not to be. The politician having sensed that he would not be given audience by the media fraternity probably exited the scene to go back to attend to his business.

While waiting, my friend Bernard did pat me on the back to let me know on what was unfolding. In came three fuel guzzlers, a Ranger rover, a Chrysler and a Mercedes Benz. Alighting from the Chrysler was a lady classmate. She was in a very short and sexy dress. By her side was a suave dude whose hair was clean-shaven who sought of oozed affluence. He was dressed in fitting outfit and he had two huge phones in his hands. We were in a position she could not easily spot us.

“Boss, yani tuko hapa tumechapiwa tukisaka mullah. Wasee wa naswa wametuchanga na dem wa class ndio huyo antoka kwa maguzzla na Wasee wa mablingbling. Nakuambia hii ndio kutupa mbao na randa na carpenter (kuteveva). Mvulana ni kuumia, msichana ni kulalisha.” Bernard commented resigned.

I remember the lady had once asked me about Hotel Hemingways. Since I had read about it from either John Fox or some eating out magazines, I had given her a vivid description in terms of location, facade and a few delicacies on offer and she had bought the idea that I had once gone there.

The couple and their buddies did head to the famous Kosewe restaurant where they enjoyed some sumptuous cuisine as we went back to purchase kales and since it was avocado season, we bought some to liven the delicacy.

Cynical and despondent, we slowly made our way back to the hostel. So Big Mike had this fiendish and malevolent in using us as some piece of s**t and disposing us off like a bunch of ragtags  with nothing of importance. Resigned, we sauntered back life battered, wiser and more appreciative, mundane as it may sound.Easy come, easy go.  A heart-breaking experience that left as mazed and disenfranchised, right.

SITUONANE.