Moving Out!

New Start New Life.

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Moving Out!

It’s been years. Years of living home away from home. Years of remembering that one day the decision that was moving out was made. Years marked by a start of self-doubt, speculation, anticipation, calculations and hope invoked at measures just unimagined of. Years of trial and errors. Years of moving out and then moving on. Or was it moving out and on. The fear. The doubt. The forecast and the decision to stick with the decision to move out and start a life away from the comfort of usual home. Private perhaps.

That evening has been memorable. Every thing wash hushed. Hushed in the sense that no plan privy had been as concrete. Just some sketchy speculations. What someone a little bit adult would brand “day dreams”

 

Look in a span of less than an hour so much happened. Decisions so binding were made. Negotiating with a house agent for a bed sitter cubicle ad viewed a month ago that appeared like a real war of words;

Halo there? It’s Tony here. The guy who checked on your houses ‘recently’

“Haroo. Unatakaje”

(I needed to appear like I commanded some means it’s how I stack to my English even as he moved to converse in swahili) Can I move in today?

“wapi pesa? Deposit and one month rent.

That’s how much sir.

“20, 000″(he said in words though, not figures)

Kwa nini. I detested.

“kumbe unaeza ongea kiswahili” he remarked but not in a voice equal to a joke

Boss, niliambiwa rent ni 7500

“ndio. Deposit ya Maji na stima ni 5000”

OK already the turn of things wasn’t as tantalizing. That conversation was longer only full of figures. Not words. We settled on some sensible figure and he agreed to pick the balance as I moved in.

 

In between, I talked to a dozen of transport service providers. OK it was just as tough. I settled on some chubby looking miraa chewing chap who unlike the rest offered a price cut only equivalent to a dollar after I convinced him that while pricing he should consider I dint own a lot.

 

That was it. Cruising past the leafy surbabs of Karen enroute Rongai; the new home. Seated in between the talkative driver and his errand guy who measured his words, I chose to listen rather than talk. That way I ended up getting to hear of what their version of moving out years back was!

moving-out-1

Ave come to think of that kerosene pump as iconic. I mean giving you directions to Rongai, I won’t fail to mention it as if it is the most key landmark in history. Yes every one was gone. There I was in a new territory. All new and green. No friends. No neighbor kids who stray in asking “uncle can I pick this for a toy. Uncle this uncle that” Yes its a decision I had made and turning back only reminded me of the biblical Lot! Did I? No I couldn’t afford. My stomach rambled with hunger and the next thing I thought of was to fix a meal. All I had was some money. No food. No cookery. No nothing. Okay I endeavoured to buy a handful just for that days purpose. It’s how I ended up at the kerosene station with a kerosene stove all wrapped in a box. The lady attendant amid laughs helped unwrap and filled it’s cylinder half way. I put some bills in her kerosene greased hands and thanked her.

Reaching my place it dawned on me that I had instead not bought all I needed to set up a kitchen that would make a single meal to start with. As final resort, I ended up at the most neighboring shop to grab a packet of milk and bread for supper! Not breakfast. Man must live indeed.

 

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