Sunday 7 June 2009

k!5 Muli's Great Day - A short story by Kingwa Kamencu

At last - and with apologies for the delay - k!5 is here! I have been busy visiting Africa and am pleased to say that I made the proper acquaintance of everyone so far featured in k!, made many virtual friendships real, and met yet more talented kushinda!minded people. As a result kushinda.org has new artists' galleries and our new kushinda! site kushinda.net has more to offer - but we still need more! You?
But first - read k!5! Kingwa Kamencu is an upcoming young Kenyan writer, 1st prize winner in the youth fiction category of the Jomo Kenyatta Prize for Literature 2007 amongst other accolades. Kushinda! is honoured to be the first to present her latest short story, Muli's Great Day.

MULI'S GREAT DAY

Onesmus Muli, a second year student at the Great University was in a good mood. His story had been published in the newspaper! Already he had received some congratulatory phone calls and text messages. He lay back in bed beaming. Wow, I’m famous, he thought, stretching languorously before floating out into the washrooms. Today he did not notice the overflowing hallway garbage can near his door, the blocked bathroom drainage or the icy spray of water from the shower. No, life was too beautiful. He could make out birds chirping somewhere above him. The scent of blossoming flowers from a tree nearby only added to his general state of bliss.

He pulled on jeans and a tee shirt and sat down to enjoy a cup of hot cocoa. On an afterthought he sent a classmate going to the tuck shop to buy him milk, a chapatti and a samosa. The usual black tea and half loaf of bread would not suffice. “Keep the change bro, we’re on a roll!” he cheerily told his classmate. The other boy smiled lightly at the measly five bob.

Later, as Muli walked down the stairs of Hall 9, he imagined everybody staring at him, fascinated. They’d probably seen his story in the paper. A few boys greeted him in what Muli could only construe as tones of admiration and awe. He entered the custodian’s office where the 900 boys read the daily from. Leafing through it with about 10 others, he pointed at his story, proudly telling them, “Yeah, that’s me!” He remained there for an hour, pointing out the story to all incoming readers till he was sure he’d left a fair number to tell others on his behalf.

At midday he sauntered to town to buy his own paper. He stopped at the first newspaper vendors. “Two copies of the Un-standard please,” he ordered. “My stories are in it today...” he added for good measure. Unfortunately, the newspaper wasn’t there. Sold out, the vendor told him. Muli moved on to the next stall. Three hours later he was still without a paper. Apparently they had all sold out. Muli stood exasperated. “What’s happening today,” he asked, “why are they sold out everywhere?” The woman selling shrugged. “Hasn’t happened in a long time. Only happens when they carry very serious stories.” Muli stopped short, transfixed at her words. “Say no more!” he beamed and set back for school.

Was his story that good that the papers had sold out? “Can’t be,” he tried to convince himself unsuccessfully. “I shall not tell this to any one though” he vowed “or else they’ll say that I’m bragging like they always do.” And so tight-lipped and with the expression of a pained martyr, he returned to campus. Let them hear of the awards I will win for themselves. I will not be the one to tell them, he thought, referring to his literature classmates. He spent the remainder of the day huddled in his room, fantasizing about his next great story. This one would change the world for sure…

Fortunately, he missed the evening news. The news anchor was reporting on repression of media freedom. The top news for the day was: ‘Government buys out all Un-standard papers and sets them ablaze and raids media house’. Apparently the front pages contained an expose of grand corruption by top government officials. Police had bought up all newspapers in town that day and raided the media house to prevent them printing the next day’s paper which was equally ‘seditious’. Upstairs, Muli scribbled down more profound thoughts.

©KingwaKamencu2009

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