MINISTER’S SON* *Part Eighteen*
Brian and Serena had just left when two armed policemen stepped in. I prayed that they had not seen the two leave.
The two wore hard faces as they approached my bed.
“David Mutua.” I didn’t respond, just looked at their faces.
“We have a warrant to arrest you and so called Serena for allegedly trying to kill Joyce Ndegwa.” The second police explained or rather informed.
“As you can see, I am under medication, I would advise you to wait until I get over my ail.” I was a lawyer and I knew I wasn’t supposed to be arrested in such a condition.
“It is an order David.”
“There is no a bigger order than that in the constitution. I will have my lawyer file a case against you for harassing me on a hospital bed, now get lost.” I laid my head on the pillow to get some sleep. They were murmuring among themselves.
“David? You are ordered to give us direction on how to Find Serena.” One of them spoke after sometime.
“Who is Serena? You mean Serena Williams? The tennis girl? The star?” One of them clicked his mouth and opened the door to leave.
“Guard that idiot, hatatusubua juu babake ni minister, he is just lucky, angenitabua.” He left. He had of course gone to try and trace Serena, none of them mentioned Brian. I opened my eyes to see the confused cop who was standing about three metres away from my bed. I pitied him, was he a dad to some kids? A son to a certain poor woman? Had he grew from a troubled background? Maybe, maybe not, but then all he knew was to follow orders. Now that I was a minister’s son he was helpless, he couldn’t arrest me. What if he found Serena, the ugly man would knock her down and pull her by her skirt, obviously exposing her forbidden fruits in public. I wondered if I would ever forgive such an action, no, not against my Serena. I wondered what would happen to the poor little Brian, the cop would just cork his gun and shoot him, Brian would scream in pain, women would run away with their skirts on their heads, their hands on their b—–s, mourning the death of one of their son. Men would read the newspapers the following morning over their strong tea, headlines *one criminal shot to dead after a long struggle with the police* was Brian a criminal? Nobody would wish to find out whether he was really a criminal, his life would end there. At least he would make history in his family, at long last his name was in the newspaper, though as a dead Criminal! That’s the nation we lived in, a politician would appear in headlines for having a running stomach or a diarrhoea due to over eating, no journalist would bother to inform of a starving family in his or her neighborhood. A rotten nation. My wish and hope was to be the champion of change. I wanted the gap between us and the poor eradicated.
“Afande, habari yako?” I greeted him, he seemed surprised.
“Fine sir.” I noticed the term sir.
“What is your name?”
“Mohammed Juma.” He sounded so soft, would he sound the same if his fellow cop was there?
“Why do you want to arrest us?”
“Sir, its an order, your Dad was consulted, he gave our seniors the directions, he wants Serena arrested.” He explained.
He now looked and spoke so innocently.
“Do you think I would harm my own wife? And shoot myself?”
“No sir, it it……mmm….no sir but but….its just an order sir.” He looked completely confused. I asked him about the status of his family, he was a firstborn of eleven siblings, his Dad had died in the post election violence, Juma was the hope of his family, to feed his six young brothers and five sisters, not forgetting his sickly old mother. He was among the kind of people I was fighting for, yet he was guarding me like a criminal just in the name of an order, just to retain his job. The rich used the poor to destroy their fellow poor folks.
“Come near the bed, I want to give you a story.” He hesitated but he still came and sat beside me. I narrated to him how I met Serena and everything that had happened to us, by the end of it, he looked more relaxed.
“Am so sorry sir. You are a hero…” Mohammed said in disbelief.
“Don’t be sorry, join me in fighting for your rights, your little ones needs a good nation to grow in.”
“That’s true sir, I all do anything for you. I will join you!” There was no weakness in his voice, he meant his words.
“Thanks, now, how much does the government pay you?”
“Around thirty five sir.”
“Yes sir.” His salary was not even close to my Dads sitting allowance in his meetings per day.
“I will pay you double of that every month.” I saw his face brighten with disbelief.
“You won’t resign, you will remain as a cop.” I gave him instructions, the first step was to trace Serena and Brian and hid them, he would work closely with the other police in finding her so that he would mislead them. Mohammed was also supposed to link Serena and I in case I was imprisoned.
I had just competed giving him the instructions when my phone rang, I checked to find that it was Serena.
“David….” She cried painfully. I was startled .
“My my my love? Hello! Serena?”