After the last Chemistry lesson, I removed my lab coat and left the school compound a very happy person. Finally, my Sacco loan had been approved.
I was now half a millionaire. I had made my mind to invest the 500K in a business that would guarantee quick returns.
Well, I have never engaged in any serious business, except during the days at the university where I used to sell AFCO cigarettes to colleagues.
I have been in Mavumbi town for many years and know quite a number of fellows who sell and buy gemstones being mined in some far flung areas near the national park.
I had already made contacts with two chaps I know who deal in the green garnets.
I would take a calculated risk of starting up with stones worth Ksh100,000, which I would sell at a profit to a Mhindi dealer not far from town. The deal had to be completed before the crack of dawn.
You never know; if all goes well, in two or three years, I might be calling you from Dubai as a dealer in real gold.
I positioned myself in a corner as I waited for Yondo Sister, the bar maid, to serve me. She was in a foul mood because of Chomelea, a local guy who repairs plastic utensils using heated wires.
You see, Chomelea had taken one too many and in the process, dozed off, only for the arrow dam between his legs to burst its banks.
Threatened by Yondo, Chomelea rose, staggered anticlockwise and muttered something like “..hic.. you are.. hic ..not my wife to order me to clean up.. kwani kazi yako hapa ni nini,, hic?”.
Yondo Sister grabbed Chomelea by the scruff of the neck and flung him across the street.
Peace was immediately restored. She sauntered up to my table and smiled sheepishly, probably noticing that my height while seated had increased because of the wallet.
After two beers, the two gemstone sellers walked in and my heart was glad.
We moved to another private room so that we could transact business.
Things were moving on well.
We sealed the deal shortly. I had examined the stones and confirmed they were of good quality.
The next move would be to locate Kaburu, a Mhindi who buys gemstones and later sells them in South Africa.
I found a number of apprehensive fellows waiting outside on a bench with some small parcels, most likely gemstones.
When my turn came, I walked in briskly as Kaburu ushered me to sit on a chair nearby.
“Mwalimu nasikia wewe iko na mawe, mali muzuri?” Teacher, I hear you’ve got some good stuff.
I belched confidently and passed over the parcel to Kaburu, who scratched his moustache expectantly as he tore the wrapping.
He poured the contents on the tabled, sighed deeply and looked at me with a mixture of disdain and consternation.
He pulled out a small torch from a drawer and studied every piece carefully, the way a doctor examines a bacteria colony in a petri dish.
He shook his head doubtfully and muttered between his stained teeth; “Boss, hizi zote ni chupa, hakuna jiwe hata moja,” which summarily meant that the samples were all glass.
My heart missed a beat. Sweat began collecting on my fore head as the harsh reality dawned.
The two fellows had conned me straight and square, whichever trick of mind they had played. And I was sure it wasn’t the alcohol.
My mind was on fire. The dealer Kaburu was dancing before my eyes and changing colour like a chameleon.
I rose to leave but my legs almost gave. I was done. A 100k of my Sacco loan was gone with the wind. Worse, in my haste to get rich, I had not even bothered to take their details.
I got into the kind of confusion that makes people unbutton their shirts inside the toilet.
By Pascal Mwandambo
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