The Sponsor

Mrs Ajabu

The first thing she did after getting the news from their guard that her son had stolen his husband's car and his husband and daughter were in the hospital was go into her special fridge and come out with an unopened bottle of wine. She went to reach for a wine glass then decided not too.

'Where is my son? He could be anywhere. It must be peer-pressure. It's the drugs, he's back on them again. I should have raised him differently,' she thought and took a swig from her bottle of wine.

She thought of her husband. She loathed Mzee Ajabu yet they had some good memories. She remembered how much she loved her before the riches came. How he would confide in her, tell her his dreams, touch her, and make her feel wanted by using the little money he got to buy her simple gifts and she took another swig.

'My son might be in a gutter somewhere dead or almost dead. Should I call the police? Should I not, how would my husband handle this? He has a bunch of contacts, contacts that I don't have. Oh, he's going to die,' she had another thought and took three consecutive swigs.

She thought about her daughter, Olivia. 'It couldn't have been the abortion. I mean, I saved her. It must be a myriad of things the youth go through nowadays. They don't talk do they? It was that boyfriend of hers that must have been the trigger,' she tapped on her wine bottle with her long acrylic nails.

Was her planning coming undone? Was this the end of her son? The prop that was supposed to liberate her from the yoke of oppression. Was this the end? Who would take over the company, her daughter, Wairimu? No, no, no. She lifted the bottle as if it was a glass of water and emptied it. She did not think of anything else. After a while the world started spinning and then it went dark.