The Sponsor

Helena

She was a shadow of the woman she had been. Her beauty parlour had faded immediately Mzee Ajabu stopped pumping money into it and her mood swings had seen her lose her job as a news anchor. Forgotten by the very people that used to cheer her on.

She was down on her luck, headed for her last resort. Mzee Ajabus house. Behind her was her daughter. She was frail, stick thin, an imitation of the girl who used to raise hell in clubs and shopping malls.

"Will I have my Porsche back?"

She asked her mom as if she needed a car more than food in her belly and a roof over her head. The Porshe had been taken by auctioneers together with their house after they went bankrupt.

"You will get it all back and more sweetie," she told her with a small kiss on her forehead.

"My necklaces, my allowance too?"

"All of it," Helena said her voice weak and without conviction. She was in a soiled leso, a big shirt and a headgear. She resembled mama mboga in every sense of that word.

Her daughter was in baggy trousers. They had fit once but not today. Today they were loose and sweeping the floor with every step she took.

"This is a big house, will we live here?" she asked when the house came into view, revealing its splendour.

"Yes sweetie, this is our home."

The guard came out to check on the voices outside.

"We're here to see Mrs Ajabu," Helena started.

"Who are you?"

"This is Mzee Ajabu's daughter, I'm his second wife."

The watch man threw one look at them and knew this wouldn't end well. She wanted to shoo them off but their hopelessness made him feel pity. He dashed into the house and came out with Mama Wairimu.

"Kijana, what are you doing opening my gate for hooligans, eh?"

"Mrs Ajabu, help us. This is Mzee Ajabus daughter. We have nowhere to go." Helena broke into a sob.

"Aren't you that anchor from TV? Life has done a number on you, eh? Unfortunately, this is my house and not Red Cross or United Nations."

"Please, this is Mzee Ajabu's daughter. Help her if you wont help me."

"Do I look like Mzee Ajabu?" she held her chin for a second as if she was in a deep thought. "You can find him in the third wing of Nairobi hospital, not sure he'll talk to you. He doesn't seem to want to talk nowadays."

"Please, please," Helena went down on her Knees.

Mama Wairimu turned to the guard.

"Kijana, don't be calling me for nonsense you can handle. Next time you will be on the other side of the gate with the beggars," she barked and showed them her back.