Shadows Unveiled

Unleashed and Mingling

One month came and went, followed by yet another. I found myself yearning for the serene moments in my home, those times when Jethro was off on his safari adventures. Cooking for my little family was kind to my wallet, and I couldn't deny that I missed him – His significance in my routine went beyond the surface-level challenges, embodying a complex interplay of emotions, habits, and a sense of continuity that, despite the difficulties, anchored me in the rhythm of my existence. However, dwelling on it wouldn't bring him back, and time was too precious to waste on tears. 

Meanwhile, I found myself slipping into the abyss of alcoholism, a tumultuous journey that mirrored the chaos in my heart. To fill the void, I made the local bar my second home. At the stroke of 5 pm, like clockwork, I'd walk in, ready to soak in the atmosphere until midnight. As the once-fizzy union of vodka and soda metamorphosed into an undiluted elixir of escapism, I plunged deeper into a surreal soundtrack, each sip resonating with the somber notes of solitude and the comforting numbness that alcohol provided. I'd gradually wobble my way to the bus stop, ensuring I caught the last matatu home. 

Sometimes, the route took a detour south before heading my way east, but the drivers were considerate, making sure I got home safely. It became a routine, waiting until my brother opened the door before the driver sped off into the night. Word had spread about my breakup, and the community had opinions. Jethro wasn't spared from criticism and insults wherever he went, blamed for disrupting the order of an innocent girl's life. 

Stumbling to my bedroom, with an unsteady gait, I would prop myself up in bed fully dressed, assuming a strangely vigilant posture that mirrored the paradoxical duality of my existence. The repercussions of my alcohol-fueled escapades were becoming all too evident. I shed a significant amount of weight, my hard-earned salary evaporated into the abyss of booze, and worst of all, I spent less and less time with my children. 

Fortunately, my family played the role of vigilant guardians. Despite my downward spiral, they kept a watchful eye on me, ensuring that at least during the weekends, I found solace and support within the confines of family gatherings. While spending an entire day hand washing my laundry is therapeutic, the toll it took on my hands outweighs the effort to make it a meaningful activity. Without employed help, I had no choice but to tackle the task myself, investing a whole 5 hours to complete it. The experience highlights the practical challenges and physical strain involved in choosing a more traditional and hands-on approach to laundry when external assistance is not available. We should endeavor to treat the help right. 

During my breaks from Kinangop, I'd find myself in the company of Jenny. She had a knack for inviting me to social gatherings, and her unique hustle involved slyly returning purchased beers for cold, hard cash. What a peculiar way to navigate life, I thought. One Sunday afternoon, Jenny lured me into an outing at Kismenti bar. There, she introduced me to a charming fellow named Richard, who graciously bought drinks for the group. Amidst the camaraderie of laughter and shared stories, Richard pulled me aside, genuinely curious about why a woman of my perceived caliber would seemingly agree to be part of a scheme where I'd pay in kind for his generosity in buying drinks for the ladies. 

I was taken aback and offended by the assumption. Politely, I clarified that I had no knowledge of such an arrangement. Richard, realizing the misunderstanding, shifted gears and took on the role of a considerate escort, ensuring I reached home safely that night. Life, with its unexpected twists and turns, never failed to amaze me. Men often hesitated to buy me drinks, given my preference for expensive liquor. When faced with the prospect of purchasing my favored martini whisky, they would inquire if I was open to some form of reciprocation. My ability to navigate these situations left the other girls upset, and they distanced themselves from my company. Jenny, who had been acting as a middleman in exchange for drinks, found her role diminished.