He walked around the City, his second day on his own. The many streets just seemed so intriguing, so many people walking around fast, intent, it mesmerized him. “Where were they going”, he wondered, the rush gave him a certain high that he could not explain. Cars whizzed past him, the touts kept shouting, calling on passengers to come into their buses and not the other. The City Askaris tried their best to keep the calm but to no avail. Street boys rushed past him also in a rush. Everyone was in a rush chasing their dreams. That is what had brought him here, his dream. At the corner of his mind he saw his mum waving. A tear prickled his eye. No matter, he brushed those thoughts aside and walked on.
His pants were a little too tight at the middle and seemed to choke his ankles. But he didn’t care, the yellow just sort of popped at his thighs. He would never be allowed to dress like this back at home. Home? Where exactly is home? He felt more at home wondering aimlessly down Tom Mboya Street. He felt at home eating the unlimited cheap fast food at little joints around every corner. There were no seats inside and you had to eat while standing and fast so that you can leave the space for someone else. No one talked, everyone smelled sweaty. That pungent smell that comes with hard day’s labor. That is one thing he was grateful about. That He dint have to do hard labor anymore. He will start a photography company and ride into the sunset. He felt the big bulge at his side, his huge 7 inch phone stood there. He nodded and patted it lovingly. The bag on his back carried all his earthly possessions and his precious camera that Aunt Jodi had brought him when she came back from the US. He was ready for the challenge.
But He was not the only one who was interested in the bulge at his thigh. He was not the only one who eyed and felt his bag safely carried on his back. He was not the only one chasing his dream. He was not the only one who was ready for the challenge.
(To be continued)