Shadows Unveiled

Jethro to the Rescue

Two days after recounting my story, Lydiah informed me that she had found me a solution. On Friday, we had an invitation to a party where she would introduce me to someone who could offer the assistance I needed. At 7 pm, she arrived at my door with three gentlemen in tow. John was tall and muscular, Jethro was stout, and Dennis was still quite young. Rachel, another neighbor, also joined us. Despite being paired up, I had no clue which one among the men was meant to be my Samaritan. 

We all boarded an empty bus, choosing seats together. However, I chose to occupy a front seat, my gaze fixed on the darkness outside, still lost in my own misery. Jethro sat behind me and introduced himself once again. Before stepping into the party house, Jethro offered me a cigarette as a conversation starter, but we found ourselves with little to talk about. We were ushered into the party hall with respect, signaling our official invitation to the event. The music was unfamiliar to me, resembling more of Kikuyu folklore than my usual tunes. Much to my disappointment, the guys turned out to be poor dancers. Preferring alcohol, they positioned themselves at the edge of the dance floor, keeping a close eye on us. 

When the party concluded, we boarded the bus, and Jethro emptied his pockets, revealing a set of forks, knives, and a spoon, along with some wine glasses. Laughter erupted from everyone, but I found it rather absurd. Catching my reaction, Jethro tossed the items through the bus window. The unusual turn of events added a surreal touch to the night, leaving me questioning the nature of the assistance that was supposed to come from this peculiar encounter. That weekend yielded positive results, and Jethro assured me of his willingness to provide the assistance I needed which I believed was a ride to and from school. He conveniently operated John's Matatu on my route every morning. 

 It was reassuring to find myself among capable individuals who could also afford their own matatu. Early Monday morning, I arrived punctually at the bus stop and was surprised to find Jethro had reserved me a front seat. I arrived an hour and a half before school started at 8 am. Jethro went above and beyond by offering breakfast and accompanying me to Wimpy restaurant. During my lunch break, typically lasting an hour and a half, the headmaster had granted me the freedom to do as I pleased. He believed I was mature enough to decide my own destiny. 

Jethro would reliably pick me up around midday for lunch, often stopping at a local eatery in Industrial Area for chapati and lentils. After end class, he would then adjust his route to ensure I reached home by 5 pm. This newfound support not only streamlined my daily routine but also offered a comforting sense of stability and care that had been missing from my life.

As I sat in the van, buried under a pile of textbooks, attempting to conquer the daunting task of homework, my newfound knight in shining armor, offered to treat me to dinner if Mama continued her strike. In just a month, he transformed from being my humble chauffeur to a contender for the title of my dear boyfriend. Despite a parade of other girlfriends vying for his attention, Jethro seemed too engrossed in our budding friendship to spare them a second glance, much to their dismay and my secret amusement.

During my boarding school days, every vacation entailed a visit to Doctor Patel's office for tonsillitis treatment, a recurring issue exacerbated by changes in climate. A month after getting to know Jethro a girl from the neighborhood sought me out and discovered me bedridden, dealing with swollen tonsils. Finding it challenging to stand, I sat on a pavement eager to hear what she had to say. To my surprise, she had arrived to assert her claim—that Jethro was her boyfriend. 

With my voice barely above a whisper, I hastily offered apologies and pledged to cease all hangouts with him. Determined to uphold my promise, I relegated myself to the backseat of his van during our next encounter, avoiding the coveted spot up front. But alas, my resolve crumbled faster than a stale cookie! Jethro soon tracked me down, demanding answers about my sudden change in behavior. In a surprising turn of events, he vehemently insisted that his relationship with Margaret was purely platonic, urging her to extend an apology to me.