The saga continues... (Show offs)

It was a drizzling Monday afternoon in Corner-Soweto, Magongo, Changamwe, our sub-urban Mombasa west slum estate. Anne's left arm was grabbing my waist. And we were taking a stroll in our neighborhood. As we passed by Zuhura's home, we saw her sitting outside and I greeted her. Then I introduced Anne to her as my girlfriend. She appeared to have gotten a little shock, then she composed herself. I told her we are still taking rounds and I left with a smile. What a good start for me.

Zuhura was a polite girl. She was a girl of few words. You could see it in her brown sweet face. She was slim athletic and just about the same height as me. Attractive she was, and she doesn't give a hard time the first time one strikes a conversation with her.

The next day, just as I was coming out from the shop to buy bread and milk, I saw her. Zuhura, with the guy she recently started seeing. A smartly dressed guy. She stopped at where I was standing and she introduced his guy to me. “This is Juma Morowa, he is a very romantic guy. And he works at a clearing and forwarding farm in town.” I tried very hard to fake a smile but I think the lower part of my body went numb. It's good that I did not drop down my breakfast shopping because it would have put in the open my loosing emotions. What upset me was that just before they excused themselves, Zuhura kissed Juma on the mouth. Tongue to tongue, then smiled at me while they left to Zuhura's home.

I could not believe my eyes. We had known each other, Zuhura and me, for about five years since they moved to this neighborhood. After being friends for long, I asked her out one day. We had a good time but she refused a kiss when I saw her off her door. I battled for a second date because she didn't seem to  want it, and while on it, she told me about her intention of keeping it in the friend zone. We sat to discuss about this thereafter for a couple of times but she didn't agree to me even after revealing to her the warm colors of my heart.

I called Anne for damage control scheme. I was hurt but still acting strong. What was Zuhura thinking about? The kiss meant she didn't want me, and it was a lie that she didn't want exclusiveness and committing herself to somebody. And Telling me about Clearing and forwarding bullshit! Just because I was jobless now? That was childish, and she knows I have worked before and handled big money while I was in South Africa. She was jobless too, fresh from college. Couldn't she think about that?

Anne arrived a few minutes before sunset in a sparkling style. She was staying at Tudor, just fifteen minutes drive from there. She was in a White new Toyota Corolla. I invited her in to say hi to my mum and younger brothers and sisters, then decided to continue chatting outside. We didn't want Zuhura to miss seeing the class, beauty and the car which his Clearing and forwarding guy couldn't afford.
When they finally passed as Juma was seeing off Zuhura, they stopped and we introduced our partners while wearing fake smiles. Juma invited us to lunch at Al-Noor hotel, he said tomorrow and we agreed.

I guess Zuhura scorned him for doing that later, but the guy was in darkness. He thought we were good friends and we would form a fun group. They did come the next day for the lunch, and we had fine cooked chicken biriani at the restaurant. We told stories about ourselves, just like friends do. But Zuhura kept singing praises about her man so much to target me. I pitied her a little. The clothes her guy bought for her could not match Anne's. Anne had class. It was obvious her hair was done at an expensive salon. Her shoes, Prada. Her boyfriend in Dubai, which our friends knew nothing about, sends her expensive gifts and cash every month.

At last Anne dropped the bomb. She told that we wereonce married, and this unsettled Zuhura on her seat. It was as if a piece of cloth had been put in her mouth. After Mr. Morowa paid the bill, Anne also invited then to her birthday party in Tudor which would be on Saturday. She insisted they come just as we accepted their invitation. Zuhura's thoughts still seemed far, but when we got up she put her arm around Juma's and leaned on him romantically. This was a bad sign, but I dismissed it.
I wondered why she had not broken it off with Juma since its nearly a week now. I took theirs as a fling but it seems its lasting. I went to town and asked my friends working in adjacent offices and others nearby about Juma Morowa. I wanted to know more about this guy who Zuhura had set up to be a threat to me. And before lunch time, I had gotten the information I wanted, though not all.

On the party day, I went to Tudor early in the morning to help Anne with decorations and other preparations. Anne and Juma arrived at five thirty in the afternoon and there was music and drinks and many friends on the party. Fun was flying all over the house. I decided to stay away from Zuhura. I thought they should have their fun while we have our own. There were many people to talk to in the party, it cant be just us. Anne went to check on them from time to time to crack a joke or ask if they were comfortable then went to talk to others.

At eight, she blew the candle and cut the cake as we sung the traditional “Happy birth day to you.”  everyone got a piece of the big delicious black forest birthday cake. We drank more juices and started dancing. This was the time to show off. When it was a blues number playing, I wade sure I held Anne tight and romantic. She was the hottest of them all at the party. And when my dexterous hands occasionally were on her behind, we heard jeers and other noises from our friends. It made me feel that I was the man!

At ten thirty, many had excused themselves to go. Anne insisted that Zuhura and Juma spend the night there and she would drive them home in the morning. The bedrooms shared a wall. Perfect, because we would transmit our romance through the wall for them to hear. Anne knew how to moan like a pornster. And tonight, as I pleasure the birthday girl, she made them louder. We heard nothing from the other side of the wall, probably because we were busy with ourselves.

Before midnight, the door was knocked. After three trials, we heard a key opening it. We all went to the living room to see if it was a burglar. A tall guy clad in designer clothes and sports shoes entered and took time to say any word. He seemed perplexed. “Welcome home honey,” Anne went to him but he pushed her hand. Anne and I were half naked. Zuhura and Juma seemed to have read the picture and I could see a smile on Zuhura's face. It seems the Dubai boyfriend had decided to surprise Anne on her special day.

What are you doing in my house? The guy finally got something out of his mouth. While trembling I replied, we came for Anne's birthday party. He slowly headed to the kitchen, and after a minute we saw him carrying a large kitchen knife. I was already suspicious and went to stand at the door when he went to the kitchen. Seeing this scene, I opened the door and started running fast. I prayed my feet and breath not to fail me this day and after running as far as Kaa-chonjo, I could still hear people behind me. When I reached Makupa roundabout, I could not do even a meter more. So I stopped and looked back. It was Zuhura and Juma behind me. I was relieved. It seemed the guy gave up after a distance.

We sat at Makupa stage waiting for a matatu but only saw few private vehicles passing. After returning to our breath, Zuhura started laughing at me and I was annoyed by it. She thought she had won. But then I dropped it on her face. Don't laugh so much Missy, you are dating a married guy with two kids. I told her. She looked at Juma's face to see if it was true. Juma was startled about the revelation. “I know about you Casanova.” I told Juma. “You live in Mzizima with your wife Amina and two kids Gayoye and Dhadho. You have kept Zuhura in the dark. You don't want her to know about your family.” He turned to Zuhura and started apologizing. “I'm sorry my sweet, I was planning to tell you later. I swear. I'm not happy with my wife and I will get a divorce so that I can be with you.” Zuhura's face showed disgust. We remained silent and after three minutes a taxi stopped to ask us where we are heading. We got in, and as Juma was getting in, Zuhura told him no! “Go back to your wife in Mzizima.”

“I'm sorry” I told Zuhura while the taxi was taking us to Magongo. She didn't reply, and we remained silent throughout the journey back.