My favorite aunt, Christine, called me at around 5 am on Monday. I ignored the call at first because I had slept very late and wanted to enjoy around 6 or 7 hours of uninterrupted dreaming. When she called, I was actually dreaming about Nikita Kering, so you can imagine how disappointed I was. Anyway, she called three more times, so I had no option but to pick up the phone. Maybe it was an emergency.
“Uko na number ya huyo Machogu?” she yelled.
My aunt is one of those people who never needs a microphone during events. When she starts speaking, the person in the next town can hear what she is saying. And that’s how many family secrets normally end up becoming public news.
Anyway, I wasn’t quite sure who she was talking about.
“Machogu mgani?” I asked her.
I know a few Machogus. One of them is a famous caretaker around where I live. He has a reputation for impregnating house helps. At any given time of the day, you will find him standing next to a wall somewhere with someone’s “mboch” as he delivers poetic lines like an adolescent boy during a high school funkie. She will be giggling and looking sideways as she repeats the statement, “Aki Machogu wewe!”
You see, Machogu is solely responsible for the high maid turnover in our area. After a few months, one of his conquests always ends up with a baby bump. Then she goes back to her rural home and never comes back. Whether Joseph “Nick Cannon” Machogu, as I like to call him, takes care of these kids, is a whole other mystery. At one point, some maids in the area planned a protest to get him fired. However, he put up a strong case for himself, you would think he was Cliff Ombetta. Machogu claimed that this was a malicious scheme hatched by the skinny jealous maids whom he never seduces. “Sasa kama mtu hana makalio kubwa ni makosa yangu?” He was, therefore, never fired, and he now continues to operate with impunity.
Anyway, the reason I thought my aunt was talking about this particular Machogu is because my 19-year-old niece and nephew (twins) had spent some time in my place for about a week after they finished high school last year. Had Machogu gotten to my niece during this short period? Thankfully, that wasn’t the case.
The other Machogu I know is a very stubborn man that a distant cousin of mine is married to. He is the weirdest person I know. He is almost 50, yet he wears skinny jeans and uses the “you guy, my guy” lingo. Whether it’s stopping his so-called “moti” beside the road and sleeping inside it till morning or recording himself dancing so that he can trend on TikTok, he is always doing something crazy.
I imagined this was the Machogu my aunt was referring to, but he wasn’t the one.
“Machogu ule minister wa education!” she yelled again.
“CS? Hapana. Sina number yake. Kwani amefanya?” I asked
“Mbona huna number yake? SI wewe ni journalist?” She wondered
“Sinanga number za politicians aunty,” I told her.
“Anyway. Unajua amesema at shule zisifunguliwe hadi next week. Na amesema hivyo saa tisa usiku? Unajua nilikua nishapeleka kina Collins shule jana ju wako boarding? Sasa nani ataenda kuwachukua tena? Huyu mtu kichwa yake ni mzuri kwelI? Kwani anegesema mapema?”
Aunt Christine ranted on for about 10 minutes. She was clearly a parent in pain, wondering why the government could be so clumsy in its communications. When someone wants to talk to “mkubwa” directly, it usually means they are pissed off beyond their elastic limit.
But why would the CS communicate such information so late, yet the destruction caused by the heavy raisin has been evident everywhere? How hard would it have been to do so on Friday or any other day before that? It surely is weird.
On a positive note, this is one of the best moments of any child’s life. Teachers feel pretty good too, I presume. It’s like when you are about to leave the club then the DJ either decides to play your favorite song or switches to your favorite genre. You quickly go back inside, position your body to dance, and if possible, ask the waiter to “leta ingine moja.”
Right now, Machogu is your child’s hero. He is cooler than you. Holidays mean everything to these little humans because they don’t have to be subjected to this annoying activity called learning. One more week of playing and watching TV? “Hurray!” say the kids.
If kids could vote, Machogu could become president. If parents had the power to appoint CSs, Machogu would be sent back home immediately.
