so I have tried logging on but it seems these guys used some really complicated password to protect the blog. It is not even like I want to do anything dodgy. I just wanted to do a quick post as it seems that Babu and Woolie have gone off on some sort of self-imposed exile from the webs.
An hour later and I’m still not having much luck. Perhaps I’ll go to their offices down-town and get Richard, their tech guy to log me on using their work machines. Best to ring first to let him know I’m on my way.
The phone rings twice. “Hello, Mining Consultants, Richard Kamba speaking.”
“Hello Richard, this is Ruby Mwekundu. Have you got a minute”
Richard pauses for a fraction of a second , “Hi Commander. Long time no see. How can I help you?”
Without going into too much detail I explain what I need and he agrees to help me. He only has one remaining appointment for the afternoon, a lie-detector test, he explains, and then he’s all mine. I agree to meet him at his office in an hour’s time.
I picture Richard in that small office replacing the phone in its cradle, one eye-brow raised in that funny expression that he has. Richard Kamba was the newest employee at Babu’s private investigations firm. When he initially arrived he awed the rest of the team with his amazing IT skills and his easy going manner. He streamlined operations, quickly earning the respect of the field operatives. Even Babu spoke highly of him until….
Well, I thought that the Skype affair had been blown out of all proportion. Kamba gleefully told and retold the story of how a ‘strange man with dyed hair’ had stepped out of Rubina’s bathroom as they watched live, each successive retelling being spicier than the last.
Later, after Woolie spoken with Rubina, he had given them a straightforward and plausible explanation. The man taking a shower in Rubina’s flat had been none other than her good neighbour, Linda who was Binu Praksh’s civil partner. Rubina had explained how the bathroom in the guys’ flat was undergoing major repairs following the discovery of some structural defect.
As Woolie was saying this, Kamba had raised his eyebrow as if to say “mmmm hhhhmm. It was a measure of Woolie’s self control that he had not punched him in the nose. That would have served him right.
I decide to use the few minutes in hand to do a spot of shopping before heading to Mining Consultants. I pay and pack my groceries and just as I’m leaving the supermarket I come face to face with a tall young man who smiles broadly. We move close together and do the cheek to cheek thing, on both sides. “How are you doooiiiing?” I say to his speechless broad smile.
The face is familiar. Very familiar. I must have known him very well. Once. My memory is worse than a sieve, right now. He is still staring at me with that amazing broad smile. “All ready for Christmas?”, I ask still grasping for clues. He nods. I point at at him with both hands, like my fore-fingers are two imaginary pistols and say “Have a great one.” Before making my get away.
I put all the groceries in the boot save for the bag of jam doughnuts. I get into the driver’s seat and turn on the radio. As I am just finishing my second doughnut the fog in my head clears; I start to laugh uncontrollably, all by myself in that supermarket car-park. Kumbe my nice Mr silent broad smile is a police constable in my station. I see him almost everyday. What threw me was that I have never seen him out of uniform.
Groceries
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