Fiction: A New Life in Kigali (Cot’d)

Like him, he knew that the strength that Uwase transmitted whenever she spoke about her life story was enough to change most human beings’ attitude. He knew that Kyeto was now ready for a new life in Rwanda. Angela received Kyeto with a warm hug. You could tell that he was not yet accustomed to this, his new life. She had prepared a dish of fresh beans and Ugali. They silently ate with their fingers. This reminded him of his mother. After, they went to bed. In three days Angela had said not a word about how she had run away from her matrimonial home. She had requested Kyeto not to ask her questions. Strangely, he found himself contented. In bed they behaved like fish. They settled under she sheets and swam around each other. It is the only time they seemed to behave like humans who make mistakes, not wary of doing things or speaking words without caution, without particular meaning. They became like children, like normal people. On Sunday, Kyeto Angela asked him to take her to church. He had never gone to church again. When he was young, an altar boy in Kibabi, a parish in western Kenya, when he still wanted to become a bishop, Sister Ann showed him things that left a mark on him. She had breasts, much smaller and firmer than his mother’s. Sister had made him to kneed them the way his mother used to kneed wheat flour for the Christmas chapati. Sister Ann said it felt like eating the mama’s chapatti and said that he was doing a duty to God. He never much liked the idea of church again. They went to a huge old brick building with a stained tiled floor. People sang, and Kyeto could only pick a few words, similar to words in his native Luyha. Angela understood it better; she said it sounded much more like Kikuyu songs. Angela’s father, himself a Luhya had worked all his life in central Kenya and in his house, church was the first rule of the week. In church, Angela felt more at ease than at Kyeto’s place in Muhima. She went for the Holy Communion despite silent protests from Kyeto. “Shouldn’t we talk about this first?” he whispered to her. “That part of my life never happened. I only know one man. You,” She stung him with an angry look before she joined the queue. They did not have a chance to talk about it. In the afternoon, they went to Remera to visit Omondi. On the way, on the back seat of a twegerane (taxi) onto which four humans were cramped, she showed him the big Ministry buildings, the Parliament and the Kigali International airport. He was surprised that he was not curious about the airport and the plane that crashed, like he had been when he had first come to Rwanda. At Omondi’s after the casual introductions, the men let the ladies go to the kitchen and chatted away over glasses of Primus beer. Omondi patted Kyeto on the back. “You did not tell me that you were still together. It’s been such a long time.” From the balcony, the men watched as planes landed and took off, not many, however. The children came to bother them with this and the other question then went back to the floor to do their homework or steal glances at the French movie running on Rwanda television. They remembered the good old days of campus when they saved all their student loan money to take their girlfriends to town for ice-cream, Kyeto with Angela, Omondi with one of his girls then. Omondi assured Kyeto that those days were now behind him. “Excuse me Sir, mama Odette needs you urgently” Angela barged into the man talk, holding her hands in front of her chest, thoroughly shaken. “What, shida gani Angela?” he inquired with a surprised look but all Angela could do was frantically point at the bedroom. She urged Kyeto that they make a quick exit. Kyeto could hear none of it. “We are guests in their house. We cannot leave just like that. What happened?” Uwase was now wailing loudly. The children, unable to withstand the sudden change of mood in the house, also began to cry. Angela ran to console them, but was beaten for words. The shock on her face perturbed the children more and their shrieking staccatos punctuated their mother’s subdued sobs. Kyeto was confused. He tried to ask what was going on and all she could say was, “That church we went to. It’s the problem. I will explain when we get home.” Omondi came out later and waved him back onto the balcony. Uwase came out of the bedroom and hugged her children and Angela and went with all of them to the kitchen. “Did we do something to offend your wife?” Kyeto asked. “No, it is that church,” Omondi who shrugged and stared in empty space, solemnly spoke. “It’s a long story.” One hour later, the meal of ubugari (cassava flour posho) and sombe, which Angela was struggling to get accustomed to was eaten. As they left, Uwase kissed them both thrice on their cheeks and retired to the bedroom. kelviod@yahoo.com