SWEET DREAMS
A Dennis Itumbi Novel – 2008
Synopsis
The beauty of dreams is that they have a greater life span than all of us; some come true, others remain just dreams.
Yet whatever the case dreams are … be it nightmares, puzzles or just sweet episodes of our life. This is a chronicle of sweet narratives of our lives.
Set in Kenya the novel is a classical tale of struggle, survival, failure and success through two decades of the modern century, take the journey of the dream, mourn and celebrate with the characters who the author has attempted to keep as real as possible in the very streets of our nation.
A sweet dream is your own story. Find something that you connect with and begin the great dream. It is a narrative that seeks to collect all dreams abandoned and encourage those who hold them to hold on for every dream has a lining of gold that makes it eventually sweet.
@Ole Itumbi creative works
CHAPTER ONE
He looked straight at her eyes; she always liked it that way; She fixed her eyes on him; he could not resist her beauty, like a big mirror all her magnificence could be seen through her blue sharp and innocent looking eyes, yet it was not time to admit it, he loved the mystery and from what he had sampled from the boys, if he kissed her today it would be an anticlimax, “girls love some mystery, be straight and the excitement will be gone, play with their minds and keep them guessing”
Faim found himself tightening the grip on Tshiro’s waist, she stroked her hair backwards, he leaned forward, she was determined to settle the certainly breath-taking moment and if the place of choice was under the famous Mugumo tree then so be it.
Tshiro, could remember her favourite soap opera characters, especially in the Rich Also Cry that was beamed by the National Television, she could recall how her favourite star closed her eyes, instinctively she shut her own, then how the boyfriend had moved his arms to rest on the shoulders as the wave on the ocean raced to where they were standing.
She found herself moving the hands of Faim to the shoulder position as for the ocean she was comfortable with the wind blowing the leaves of the traditional giant tree as the leaves fell, sometimes one by one, she only wished when their lips met, a leaf would fall on her hair and she would shake it off romantically.
The heat was gaining, they could fell the heartbeats of each other, and the alarm went off.
Tshiro hit the mattress with her fist, she always dreamt about that moment, probably her fantasies were too much, and she silently swore to bring it all to an end.
Faim, picked up the phone, he was sleepy, he had spent the previous day at the Nyayo Stadium cheering Harambee Stars play Zimbabwe, and he had personally led the crowd on the main stand in cheering the national team.
“Is it morning already sweetheart?” he answered the phone assuming Tshiro was calling to remind him to go for his morning jog.
Lately, she has been pressuring him to reduce the fat and keep fit.
“Darling, next time begin with good morning…” Tshiro responded
To avoid a predictable argument, he too the cue, “good morning…”
“Today you spend the day with me, I need your company,” Tshiro interrupted.
Faim slumped back to bed. Tshiro 15 kilometers away, headed for the shower.
****
He dressed in a casual blue jeans and a red stripped t-shirt, he grabbed the new energy drink in town which he had in his fridge – Burn. He then headed to his Toyota corolla and began the journey to his girlfriend’s house.
He admired the thick forest on both sides of the road, he knew the surroundings, but today there was something special about the way the birds were casually strolling on the tarmac oblivious of the cars and the human activity.
The branches of the trees swayed peacefully, there was an organized sense of grace, Faim hummed his favourite gospel hymn, the only one he could sing longest before losing tune.
The car today did not have the usual loose scrap metal noise, he however decided to keep a low sped perhaps to enjoy the beauty of the environment.
Faim slowly drifted into a fantasy world.
Tshiro On the other end, chose a thigh length silk red dress, carefully placed a glass of wine at the entrance, replaced the flowers on the face and added perfume on the roses.
The room was abuzz with ecstasy, the scent was magical and the girl behind it all was all set to turn the heat on.
Tshiro had come a long way since her parents died in a fatal Kenya Airways crash in Doula Cameroon, she stole a glance and a painting of her parents and she was sure her mother would have been proud of her, had they lived to see this day. It had been a long struggle but she had since recovered and was setting up a business empire with the help of Faim who was set to join University later in the year.
She remembered what her mother kept telling her when she was alive, “taking a risk is not the business of cowards it is the duty of the brave and winners, the consequences of a risk do not break us, they mould us.” Tshiro was not sure she was relieving the quote in the proper context, but she was certain it still could apply.
Her father was a rich businessman, they were not very close, but at least he played his part in bringing her up all she could remember was a gift he gave her when she turned 12, a small wooden house and as he gave her the present he philosophized, ” there are lessons in that house that you will keep discovering for the rest of your life.”
Today she noticed something on that gift, it did not have a door, “mmmh..” she found herself murmuring.
“If you have to create a door on this house, then you have destroy one of the frames, it must be the one which does not affect the rest of the house,” she scratched her head, then snapped her fingers as if she had discovered the solution, she added a footnote on a note she was writing. she hugged the giant painting of her dead parents and chanted in appreciation of the role they had played in shaping her.
She filled her own glass, with red wine and jumped to bed, after leaving a romantic note at the door. She switched on her radio, tuning to Classic FM, she loved the music mix, meanwhile an instinct struck her, and she wrote another note and placed it below her pillow.
Tshiro loved what she was about to do.
From her bed she could hear the gates open, the car get in to the parking, she did not bother to peep outside it was time to effect her plan. She heard the door open, she smiled with a sense of inner triumph, to her the day had finally dawned.
Faim, drove in and parked next to the new metallic black Prado parked at the rear of the parking.
He did not pay much attention ton the car, he thought probably the girl had unexpected visitors or she had decided to buy another car, despite his advise that she checks on her spending.
He dusted off his jeans and walked towards the house.
The door was open, there were fragments of broken glass on the door and some liquid, he picked the paper on top of the mess and slid it in his trousers.
Just then a group of four men came down the stairs, one was struggling with some files, he hid behind the fridge and took note of at least two of the men, but his mind was now racing fast, what was going on. He could hear a car outside getting to life, he found himself upstairs and there in front of him was Tshiro surrounded in a pool of blood.
He took her arm and felt the pulse, it was faint. With a breather of hope he dialled the police number it was engaged. He rushed downstairs and took the number of a local hospital and asked for an ambulance.
“Do you know our charges?” the recipient asked after taking the other details.
“I will pay everything, come and rescue the patient first,” Faim calmly but firmly asserted.
“This is a business and life is expensive, better be advised that before we discharge the patient you will have to pay every coin” the caller on the other side persisted.
“Just Come to Thindigua, ask for Mazera’s Court, and house Number 6B, “Faim calmly restrained himself.
“Okay we will be there and remember this is a recorded call,” the hospital receptionist hung up.
As he bent down he recalled the car he had seen at the parking he rushed down with a rage and a passion to avenge; the car was gone.
He stared blankly at the large compound, he could not spot the house watchman, what he did not know is that Tshiro had given all her workers a day off, so as dedicate the day to him.
He attempted the police line again. It was still engaged. “Why did Kenya police have public toll free lines,” he softly cursed.
Meanwhile he rushed back upstairs, he noticed the sexy red silk dress, he could see the ambience of the room, and the pattern added up…Tshiro was preparing for a romantic treat.
It had been a four year relationship, they had exchanged ideas, had strolls, shared rooms, but had maintained a strange discipline, they had never been romantically engaged, yet the flame of their love was kept alive.
The siren of the ambulance rent the compound, the nurses rushed in;
“Not too bad, not too good,” the chief nurse quipped before Tshiro was carried out.
They drove off. Faim, took the keys of the sleek Mercedez Benz, he knew if he wanted to be listened to he had to put on an image, the society believed in images more than nobility.
He drove to the Kiambu Police Station. there was a queue but the police had seen the Benz and they referred to him as Mkubwa, even those on the line did not complain, though they had waited since morning to report their own cases, they gave way to the man who had come in a Benz.
A vehicle with six policemen was dispatched to the scene of crime, only two hours earlier at the same police station a 84 year old grandmother had come in to report about the death of his husband who had been hacked to death by his two sons over a land dispute, she had no status except her dusty brown walking stick the police claimed the vehicle was busy and promised to go over as soon as it was free, she went back home.
But with Faim, who lived in the richer suburbs of Kiambu and who had cologne in place of the sweat, the police sensed a minefield and they swung into action.
In hospital, Tshiro was booked into the Intensive Care Unit (ICU), the x-ray had shown extensive injury in her brain, her inner thigh was sliced off some flesh and there was a slight cut on her throat, but the doctors were determined to get her back to life.
The dilemma was Faim did not have any contacts of her remaining relatives, he attempted to remember details of a conversation they had three days earlier where she had talked about her remaining relatives, he was not concentrating that day, he was busy admiring her hair, her physique and her explanations went largely unheard.
The police issued him with a P3 form, he gave them a Shs.1, 000 note and thanked them for “their quick response”
Faim then drove to hospital.
Everything was moving fast. The trees were swaying at a greater speed, the birds were homing in droves, the music CD was on song five, and even the car was speeding.
He parked and called his friend Njoro. Njoro was the perfect company at the time and he was there in half an hour.
A doctor walked out of the theatre with a determined face, “what is going on,” Faim shouted at him innocently.
“Who are you?” The doctor sought to know.
“I am the boyfriend,”
“Faim?” The doctor responded almost knowingly…
“Yes Faim, so you know…”
“She kept mentioning your name, she loved you,” The doctor calmly offered.
“Why are you using past tense, she still loves me,” Faim who was becoming hysterical shouted back, Njoro held him back.
“She is in a coma, to allow surgery, she is a fighter she will win,” the doctor remained optimistic as he walked back inside.
Faim screamed her name attracting the attention of patients and relatives walking in and out of the hospital.
They drove off the hospital assured she would recover. They passed by Tshiro’s house.
They locked the place and he took back his old Toyota and they silently drove in the night towards Njoro’s South B house where he was to spend the night.
The only interruption was the sound of the ringing phone, which he did not pick, all he wanted is to sleep and wait for the morrow, today was the most depressing Wednesday he had ever had, or at least among the ones he could remember.
He hated Monday’s he thought they were his worst days, perhaps he was wrong, Wednesday was his unlucky day, Wednesdays throughout his life were good during the day, but only if he could flashback he would realize Wednesday nights never went his way.
To Faim though, Wednesday was his best day of the week, he hung his hopes on that factor.
He was born on a Wednesday, he met Tshiro on a Wednesday, he won his first Drama Festival award on a Wednesday, He was appointed Head boy on a Wednesday, who could blame him – all indications were that indeed Wednesday was his lucky day.
The two friends got in the house. Njoro fixed a meal of Ugali and some eggs. A bachelor’s classic meal, they talked about Maria – Njoro’s girlfriend. She had gone abroad for her master’s degree in Statitistics. It was already six months of patience and Njoro was doing a remarkable job waiting for her to return to his arms.
“I lover her very much that I cannot hide, I can wait for the remaining four months she means everything in my small world,” Njoro told his friend.
“Love, I have always warned you is not a blood issue, don’t give it your heart, be open give it your mind brother,” Faim who was ever controversial on matters love reminded his best friend.
He drank three glasses of water and together they listened to the tunes of “In the Morning it will be alright…” as they helplessly drifted to dreamland, the utensils unwashed
CHAPTER TWO
Tshiro died a happy person. She died fighting, just as the doctor had assured.
Faim looked as the green stands surrounded her death bed… Her final story in life had just been completed. Her final sentence was also written, the curtains came down on her right in front of her eyes.
A nurse walked to Faim, “She gave us these, three marbles”
She rolled them on Faim’s hands.
There was something unique about burials in Kenya. They always brought in people who never existed in the lifes of the deceased.
In the case of Tshiro, two uncles emerged. They wanted to control everything about the burial, Faim had no objections.
The burial at the St. Paul’s Anglican Church Embu, was well attended.
Rev. Moses Njiru conducted the morning service in strict Anglican liturgy.
Everything went on well till the chief doctor took the podium to give his condolences for a patient, he described as “a master of her own will and a fighter to her last breath.”
Faim rose up without warning, “you lied to me, you lied!”
Dr. Fotasiki Mishika, paused and watched and chose to direct the rest of his speech to Faim, “The beautiful girl who lies here will never say farewell to you, he refused to die just to kiss you..”
Faim was taken by surprise he sat down instinctively. Dr. Fotasiki went on, “she was attacked as she prepared to kiss you and share her emotion with you, on her death bed she kept telling us to keep going since she was sure at least before she dies she would kiss you.”
The Anglican Congregation murmured. That was a taboo topic on the Altar, but the doctor was undeterred.
“Tshiro mentioned your name young man, more times than she cried out because of her own pain, you were her motivation, unfortunately she died before she told you…and before you told her…” Faim reached for his handkerchief he could not hold back the tears anymore.
As if aiming at maximum effect the Doctor concluded saying, “She gave us three marbles, one is for you, the rest she said you will find out on your own, but above all, my message to you and all of you in the church, is learn to express your feelings before it is too late.”
The sermon touched on an irrelevant subject, it took two hours and the largely young congregation had switched off, instead of death or life, the Reverend chose to speak about faithfulness in marriage, only a quarter of the audience was married.
Even Faim, agreed the Anglican church needed to reform to fit in the modern society.
At her parent’s upcountry home in Kianjokoma, the business was simple lowering the coffin.
“We return this daughter of eve unto soil, for unto soil she emerged, ash unto ash….”
Faim scooped his own lump of soil and threw it in….as it landed on the coffin he knew it was time to move on.
The room was packed; Faim did not know anyone in the meeting except the lawyer and the two mysterious uncles of Tshiro.
“I will be brief; my role is just to read the will of the deceased Tshiro Manga.
At that point it struck Faim that he did not even know the family name of the one person who was supposed to be his girlfriend.
“The Shs. 21 Million in the bank should go to my husband, in his absence it should be invested in a children’s home, the savings in the stock market and Sacco should go to Faim in his absence it should be invested for medical research at any local university. The assets a list of which is annexed in this will should be a decision that should made by my husband and in absence of a husband, the decision should be made by the beneficiary of any other aspect of this will, I will make any amendments in future should I live to see that future,” the tall, lawyer who had yet to introduce himself concluded his brief role.
One of the uncles stood up and interrupted the lawyer before he could go on, “so can you put names to the will so that the business ends today and life goes on.”
By now Faim knew the man was Gikundi wa Mburugu, the lawyer sat down and began, “I thought the will is clear, Faim is the main beneficiary and he will also decide which orphanage benefits from the savings”
Gikundi objected, “The first person for the benefits was supposed to be the husband.”
The lawyer looked up, “are you saying she was married?”
“Yes and here is the evidence,” Gikundi handed in some papers signed by a traditional elder.
“It was a customary marriage under the Mugumo tree,” Faim could not believe it.
The lawyer looked at them briefly than looked up, “Where is the husband?”
Gikunda motioned a character outside the meeting to get in, he was dressed in traditional Kikuyu attire and he came in holding a shield and a spear in what was turning out to be a choreographed act.
The lawyer called the meeting off to “study the development.”
**
At Tshiro’s home, Faim found a note, her final writing on earth.
It was addressed to him, he looked at it and smiled.
He decided to read it later. Then on the table he found the marbles and remembered the words of the nurse at the hospital.
He reached for his handkerchief and a note fell out.
It had some stains; he recalled picking a note from the ground on the fateful day.
It was crumbled. He unfolded it.
“The green marble is for a relative you believe needs to be loved, the blue one for a friend who you believe deserves love and the red one you give it only to a person you wish to share love with,” the note concluded with a signature he easily identified.
The of course there was the rider, “you will not believe what I am about to do today, just come upstairs.”
Faim thought about the plan for the day that never was.
He still could not connect the entire plan but he knew that one day he would join the dots.
In death, just like in life, Tshiro had remained mysterious.
He browsed his mail and jumped up in joy, it was a dream fulfilled.
Just to be sure he checked the e-mail again and confirmed that he had seen it right.
He was too happy. He looked at the calendar it was Wednesday – four months after the sudden death of Tshiro.
Faim printed the mail.
He was happy that he would finally live his dream.
So happy was he that he chose to watch the Movie Dreamland a Kenyan production.
Tshiro loved Kenyan programming especially on Citizen TV, the culture and heritage was well preserved in such productions.
It was her dream to act in one of the Kenyan soaps, but she was still trying to get a contact when she died.
At least she had met Faim during the Kenya Schools and Colleges Drama Festival National competitions hosted at Aga Khan Hall in Mombasa.
Faim could recall how he approached her; she was sitted on the extreme end, he pretended to be looking for a seat and she offered one she was preserving for a friend.
He was changed to present a narrative after the much awaited play by upcoming playwright Joseph Murungu.
The adjudicators took break as if to give him a chance to know the new girl.
“When I grow up I want to be like a river,” he started and that got Tshiro off guard.
“Why?” she found herself drawn to the conversation
“ A river flows uninterrupted, when it meets shrubs it does not argue with it, the river simply runs over the shrubs, when it meets great stones the river does not fight it just meanders and gets going, sometimes its force is majestic humans have to build bridges to cross over, but the river remains focused on the dream of joining a bigger mass either a lake, a larger river or an ocean and that is awesome…” Faim had said then.
Tshiro sighed and muttered, “waooow! I also want to be a river when I grow up, I am Tshiro and you are?” Faim smiled it had worked, just then the adjudicators bell was rung signaling the start of the much awaited play.
Chapter Three
Life at the Kenya Institute of Mass Communication (KIMC) was great. It was a college Faim had always wanted to join and he was enjoying every moment of it.
The new friends, the lecturers and the classes were his life he loved it too much and he had a room on the 314 bloc of the boys hostels popularly known as Muoroto after a local slum, due to the pathetic living conditions.
Despite his status, Faim took up his room, which he shared with five other classmates in the Journalism class.
He loved the first person he met – the new friend introduced himself to Faim with some sense of pride, “I am Prince, in here everyone is my subject, but I make them feel like Kings, so your majesty you are King?”
“I am King Faim,” the newcomer introduced himself smiling.
“So I will take you around here and you can choose which shall be your castle in this palace,” The man who was to later become Faim’s best friend went on.
That’s how he found himself in the big table-room space of the larger bloc which was initially a three bed roomed house now sub-divided to act as a hostel.
Faim joined Powerhouse, the institute drama club where he quickly established himself as a great story teller; he really loved the dream.
Like any other dream it was not easy in drama club, Faim had scripted a Swahili play and it was his second day in school, the seniors did not like his speed they conspired to frustrate him – this was the real world where the best is despised not embraced.
