***My enemies conspired with Mama Branton to kill my boda boda dream***

Just when things are getting better between me and my First Lady Fiolina, there are a few enemies of development who seem determined to keep me in tribulation. They have been out to ensure that the coalition between Fiolina and I does not last.


It all started a few weeks ago when I took a Sacco loan. As you already know, it has always been my wish to own a motorcycle to use for a boda boda business. The issue had always been the loan I had taken to pay for my KU fees in 2010, which had really congested my payslip. But once I cleared this in January, my payslip got some breathing space for an extra loan.
To buy a brand new TVS motorcycle, I needed about Sh85,000. But as if godsent, Kizito, a teacher at a neighbouring school, announced that he wanted to sell his for Sh60,000.

**Applied for a loan**

After bargaining for long with Kizito, we agreed on Sh55,700, and that is when I applied for a loan. However, I asked for Sh61,000. As you know, it is always important to impress the body that toils, and so the extra Sh5,300 was specifically for thanking my body for working so hard.
Now, getting guarantors for such a big loan is not child’s play this side of the Sahara. With most teachers unwilling to guarantee me over Sh2,000, I had to use all manner of tricks to get Sh60,000 guaranteed. Usually, I avoid asking women to guarantee me since they can’t shut their mouths; but with the huge amount involved, I had to approach Ruth, Mary, Anita and Mrs Atika to guarantee me.
That was a mistake. For no sooner was the loan been approved than Cate started pestering me with a financial request.
For those who have been away in Mars, Cate is the mother of Branton, that boy who looks like me, despite the fact that I am not his father. Based on biological facts, Branton would only have been my son if he had been born two months earlier, or three months later.
Despite all that, being a peace-loving man, I agreed to help Cate raise Branton.
I used to send her some money but since the arrival of Fiolina in my life, it has been very difficult to send Cate something as I have first to meet Fiolina’s demanding financial obligations. A day after I submitted the loan form, Cate sent me an SMS, saying that Branton was sick and she needed money. I told her that I had no money but she insisted that I had to find money.
“Plus the boy has no new clothes and needs to eat well,” she said.
The day after I confirmed that my loan had been approved, Cate called me asking for money. When I told her I did not have money, she responded: “I am not a fool. You think I don’t know about the loan?”
I responded and told her that the loan was for future investments.
“Even Branton is an investment.”

**Bad idea**

I suspected that it was either Anita or Madam Mary who had told Cate that I had applied for a loan. It was always a bad idea to involve women in my financial dealings, especially those involving such colossal amounts of money.
As soon as the money hit my account, I visited the bank and withdrew some Sh24,000.
My first stop was Teachers’ Tavern where I ordered for chips and chicken and a few drinks. I also bought for my professional colleagues who were at the Tavern drinks of their liking..

It was shortly after lunch that I arrived at school. I had done some good shopping which I came with to school as I planned to take them home myself. The last time I sent a boda boda cyclist to take shopping home, my mother and Fiolina almost came to blows, with each claiming that the shopping was hers.
I did not touch the food teachers had taken, but I bought a crate of soda for the whole staffroom.
But it seemed that someone had been secretly communicating my actions to Cate. No sooner were we done with the sodas than I received a text from her.
“When am I getting the money to take Branton to hospital?” she asked. I told her that I didn’t have any money.
“You go buying teachers soda but can’t buy anything for your own blood? Utanijua!”
It was not the first time Cate was threatening me.
Fiolina was happy to see the shopping, particularly the Ngoma shoes that she had been yearning for.
The following day, I went to school early. I wanted to complete my classes as I had planned to meet Kizito and give him a deposit of Sh15,000.
But things took a different turn that morning. A few minutes before 10 o’clock tea, I heard a woman making noise loudly as she walked from the gate to the staffroom.
I gave this little attention and continued to teach. Immediately, I received an SMS from Saphire. “Dre, things are bad here in the staffroom, please come.”
I walked to the staffroom quickly. There I found Cate, seated on my desk with Branton, who was wearing torn clothes.
“If you are not giving me money, I am leaving this boy here,” she shouted when I entered the staffroom.
This attracted other teachers, and I feared it would attract Fiolina, a teacher at the adjacent nursery school.
“The last time you send me any money was last October,” Cate said. “What do you think your son eats? Stones?”
I tried to cool her down but it only made the situation worse.
“All I want is money!” she shouted. “Or we meet in the children’s court.”
The HM, Mr Juma, immediately arrived and called us to his office to resolve the matter. Kwame accompanied me as a witness while Mrs Atika helped Cate carry Branton.

**Shameful issue**

“This is a school and I will not allow our programmes to be interrupted by such a shameful issue,” he said when we sat down.
“Dre if you have anything please give Cate to take your son to hospital,” said Mrs Atika, as she helped the baby. “His temperature is bad, I think he has bad fever.”
“I also need to buy him a few clothes, and put him on a good diet; so I need some good money.”
“Dre,” said Kwame, “avoid aibu ndogo ndogo”.
After long haggling, I agreed to give Cate Sh9,600 to be used for treatment and some shopping for Branton. I also agreed to be sending Cate Sh2,000 every month for upkeep. Cate left with Branton.
Once she left, the HM, Kwame and Mrs Atika also demanded money from me.
“Tumekutolea aibu kubwa!” the HM said. Imagine if Fiolina came and found her?” Mrs Atika said.
After hard bargaining, I gave them Sh1,300 to share.
I received in a text from Fiolina as soon as I left the HM’s office: “So this thing of Branton was true?”
When I got back home, I found Fiolina having packed all her stuff, ready to leave.
“I am not ready to fight with Mama Branton,” she said. It was not easy convincing her to stay. But once I gave her Sh3,000 for the salon and a dress, things became easier.
In the end I had spent almost all the money I had planned to give Kizito as deposit for the motorcycle. It seems my dream of owning a motorcycle will have to wait a little longer.