The Sponsor

Mrs Ajabu

Mama Wairimu had served her husband supper that evening like she always did. She had cooked rice, fried beans, steamed cabbages and meat. She did not go into conversation about Fred nor Olivia. She acted as if everything was fine, nonchalant even.

"How was Dubai?" She started but really she wanted to ask why he didn't go with her to Dubai but she knew the answer to that. She was old, wrinkled and tired in his eyes.

"It's hot, it's as if I was in a steam room the entire time," mzee Ajabu said directing a spoonful of rice with beans to his mouth.

"I hear the Burj Khalifa is something to see."

"It is. Tall and dominating, you see it from every corner of that city."

"And your business deal. Did you close it?" More than anything Mama Wairimu wanted to see the look on her husband face. He could never get enough of how his face folded into itself whenever he lied.

"We made progress but as you can imagine it will take a few more trips," Mzee Ajbu's face folded in. Then out like a pressurized ballon. He was already planning his next tryst.

"Where is everybody, Fred, Olivia?" He changed the subject.

"Ah, Olivia is in her bedroom sleeping. And as for Fred they have a college trip to South Africa. Something about young entrepreneurs in business. I understand there is a summit there?"

"Oh the entrepreneurs in business summit. I read about it on the business daily. How long will he be there?"

"Two weeks, though he told me he might go sight-seeing with friends so maybe a month, two tops."

"Ah the business summit will be good for him," Mzee Ajabu said while getting up and going to his bedroom. He entered his closet, everything looked the way he had left it but not quite. He thought of opening the safe. Then decided he was tired and jumped in the shower and in no time he was snoring. His belly facing the ceiling like an ant hill.