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Next in line to go for
the photo shoot was a certain fine-looking, petite and brown complexioned chic
who had inviting red lipstick beautifully smeared on her luscious lips. She
asked if I was done with the photo shoot and I nodded in acceptance. She had
demands. Say she knew what she wanted. The moment she entered the studio, her
gait and mien did showcase one who knew what she wanted. She even had the kind
of frame she wanted in mind. As a dude, the first frame I was showed that
impressed me got my nod even though it was more pricey than the rest.
The lady had also gone for her photo shoot in graduation gowns. As opposed to her, I was doing my photo shoot on the last day I was to return the gown back to school. She was from graduating. She needed to have the background changed to her suit, the seats she was to seat on also mattered and the photos were to be done at her convenience. I could not wait for her though. The process would have lasted more than 10 minutes if I could have waited.
I remember waiting for my turn to go to the studio. Guess who I see! It was the government pathologist. He was from a graduation ceremony. He had come with what looked like a nephew and his sister. The moment I had sat down, a seat was empty by my side and he occupied it together with his sister. His nephew was standing.
If wishes were horses, beggars could ride on them. Ideally, I had wished to hang out with this guy, Johansen Odour. He is that someone you only see on TV when things are hot in the country and he needs to cool down tempers in the event of mass murder where people were interred secretly, or when a political figure is thought of assassinated.
The lady had also gone for her photo shoot in graduation gowns. As opposed to her, I was doing my photo shoot on the last day I was to return the gown back to school. She was from graduating. She needed to have the background changed to her suit, the seats she was to seat on also mattered and the photos were to be done at her convenience. I could not wait for her though. The process would have lasted more than 10 minutes if I could have waited.
I remember waiting for my turn to go to the studio. Guess who I see! It was the government pathologist. He was from a graduation ceremony. He had come with what looked like a nephew and his sister. The moment I had sat down, a seat was empty by my side and he occupied it together with his sister. His nephew was standing.
If wishes were horses, beggars could ride on them. Ideally, I had wished to hang out with this guy, Johansen Odour. He is that someone you only see on TV when things are hot in the country and he needs to cool down tempers in the event of mass murder where people were interred secretly, or when a political figure is thought of assassinated.
Inwardly I had wanted to
see this guy like yesterday. I remember driving back home and a certain chap on
board said that he knew this guy, (Johansen). He intimated how Johansen still
had the nerves of eating meat after operating on cadavers with the ease of a
dexter. Me wonders what Pathologists oath take. Is it similar to Hippocratic Oath administered to physicians when they graduate and
officially start the medical journey?
Johansen was oblivious of the fact that I had always wanted to know the
persona he is. Since he was out with his family, I had to relax my curiosity
and let him be. I am that kind of guy who never talks to a person just because
I saw him on TV or know about him. I usually study the chap and covertly jot
down what I can take to the blog or what I can emulate.
Ideally, as typical of doctors, The government pathologist is a very simple guy. This reminds me of the former fallen government pathologist who died in a road accident a few years ago. He was my hamlet fellow in the rural areas and I only got to know about him when my mum and dad went to his funeral and came back with a eulogy booklet about him.
Johansen has no swagger at all. He was adorned in a semi casual pair of trousers and a blacked stripped white shirt. You judge man by the way he dresses. His shoes were leather alright, but they did not ooze panache. I could not make to see the watch he had on his wrists but I guess it was a brand. Being a Luo, I had expected him to have this large than life attitude where you talk big and you have nothing. He was so simple you could mistake him for a random Tom Dick or Harry if you met him on the streets.
He had this huge phone. Samsung Galaxy Note like this. He asked his nephew about someone and went head and called him. “Hello, I am Johansen Odour.” He introduced himself to the caller at the end of the line and they did chat for about 2 minutes or so. What I liked most about Johansen is tht he was an easy kind of guy. He spoke in jeng like it was business s usual. Most of those in the room waiting to take snaps either never knew him or just feigned ignorance or his existence like me. I cannot say I feigned ignorance. I wanted to know about him more. His spoke in swahili most of the time and asked his nephew who was about 6”4 tall on his overtures with basketball. Apparently, the nephew had ceased playing the sport having undergone a surgery that had devastating consequences on his health.
The problem with talking too much in public is that you never know who listens to your conversation. This especially applies to public figures. I was able to piece a lot from what Johansen said. For instance, he told his nephew where he lived. I had thought he was a resident in one of the leafy suburbs owing to his post but was humbled when he said he lived in a relatively good middle class hood that has some of the oldest matatus in Southern parts of Nairobi. From his gibber, I could tell he aptly was conversed with some of the affluent Eastland’s estate. If I were a journo, I would have not spared the chance of a quick interview even if it was not something official.
He is the person who knows what exactly killed Mutula, Siatoti, Ojodeh, Kajwang and other notable figures in the recent past who head a cloud in the public arena. He knows whether the chaps did die as a result of overconsumption of blue pills as alleged by certain bloggers or not or whether it was something well planned. But those are government secrets. Sirikali has to keep some information away from the public to ensure it does not result into untoward pickets and unrests. His job requires more than just passion. It is risky and may involve use of words that are convincing and diplomatic to ensure empathy in dealing with the families, friends and concerned parties of the deceased.
But sitting next to a person who interacts daily with the departed kind of chilling. My mind was like, how does this person ever sleep at night. What does he take to continually work for the state without ever thinking of retiring soon. Judging by his looks, he was either in his forties or fifties. In one of the interviews he did, he said, “ I had not foreseen myself as a pathologist but as I continued through med school, I discovered that this is what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.In order to become the best, I pursued other medical related courses in pathology. I did a diploma in recognizing the identity of decomposed bodies and other courses in South Africa. Such courses are not offered locally it is unfortunate that one must fly abroad to get these qualifications but, supplementing your basic degree is important in order to qualify as a pathologist.”
All in all, everyone does what best he or she likes. My other love life is in writing. Johanson has a passion for telling the tales of the dead. I met him. His face though never showed any signs that he smiles. But he was true to himself. He never faked anything. I loved his mien and general composure. Maybe in a different setting like a formal one he usually behaves very different.
So when I go to take my graduation gown snap. I will always remember the day I spent with a forensic pathologist. It was like a dream come true. I know it was indirect meeting but I got my first. It was like getting what you had wanted but you never know how to get it. So like in The Alchemist, I believe society has a way of helping one gets what he or she wants. Its upon one to detect that the situation has presented itself and what one needs is seize it and cosset it to make a maximum out of it.
SITUONANE.
[Photo Source: Google Images]
Ideally, as typical of doctors, The government pathologist is a very simple guy. This reminds me of the former fallen government pathologist who died in a road accident a few years ago. He was my hamlet fellow in the rural areas and I only got to know about him when my mum and dad went to his funeral and came back with a eulogy booklet about him.
Johansen has no swagger at all. He was adorned in a semi casual pair of trousers and a blacked stripped white shirt. You judge man by the way he dresses. His shoes were leather alright, but they did not ooze panache. I could not make to see the watch he had on his wrists but I guess it was a brand. Being a Luo, I had expected him to have this large than life attitude where you talk big and you have nothing. He was so simple you could mistake him for a random Tom Dick or Harry if you met him on the streets.
He had this huge phone. Samsung Galaxy Note like this. He asked his nephew about someone and went head and called him. “Hello, I am Johansen Odour.” He introduced himself to the caller at the end of the line and they did chat for about 2 minutes or so. What I liked most about Johansen is tht he was an easy kind of guy. He spoke in jeng like it was business s usual. Most of those in the room waiting to take snaps either never knew him or just feigned ignorance or his existence like me. I cannot say I feigned ignorance. I wanted to know about him more. His spoke in swahili most of the time and asked his nephew who was about 6”4 tall on his overtures with basketball. Apparently, the nephew had ceased playing the sport having undergone a surgery that had devastating consequences on his health.
The problem with talking too much in public is that you never know who listens to your conversation. This especially applies to public figures. I was able to piece a lot from what Johansen said. For instance, he told his nephew where he lived. I had thought he was a resident in one of the leafy suburbs owing to his post but was humbled when he said he lived in a relatively good middle class hood that has some of the oldest matatus in Southern parts of Nairobi. From his gibber, I could tell he aptly was conversed with some of the affluent Eastland’s estate. If I were a journo, I would have not spared the chance of a quick interview even if it was not something official.
He is the person who knows what exactly killed Mutula, Siatoti, Ojodeh, Kajwang and other notable figures in the recent past who head a cloud in the public arena. He knows whether the chaps did die as a result of overconsumption of blue pills as alleged by certain bloggers or not or whether it was something well planned. But those are government secrets. Sirikali has to keep some information away from the public to ensure it does not result into untoward pickets and unrests. His job requires more than just passion. It is risky and may involve use of words that are convincing and diplomatic to ensure empathy in dealing with the families, friends and concerned parties of the deceased.
But sitting next to a person who interacts daily with the departed kind of chilling. My mind was like, how does this person ever sleep at night. What does he take to continually work for the state without ever thinking of retiring soon. Judging by his looks, he was either in his forties or fifties. In one of the interviews he did, he said, “ I had not foreseen myself as a pathologist but as I continued through med school, I discovered that this is what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.In order to become the best, I pursued other medical related courses in pathology. I did a diploma in recognizing the identity of decomposed bodies and other courses in South Africa. Such courses are not offered locally it is unfortunate that one must fly abroad to get these qualifications but, supplementing your basic degree is important in order to qualify as a pathologist.”
All in all, everyone does what best he or she likes. My other love life is in writing. Johanson has a passion for telling the tales of the dead. I met him. His face though never showed any signs that he smiles. But he was true to himself. He never faked anything. I loved his mien and general composure. Maybe in a different setting like a formal one he usually behaves very different.
So when I go to take my graduation gown snap. I will always remember the day I spent with a forensic pathologist. It was like a dream come true. I know it was indirect meeting but I got my first. It was like getting what you had wanted but you never know how to get it. So like in The Alchemist, I believe society has a way of helping one gets what he or she wants. Its upon one to detect that the situation has presented itself and what one needs is seize it and cosset it to make a maximum out of it.
SITUONANE.
[Photo Source: Google Images]
