Chased -Part Two

This place was so good that even before my departure, four people passed by in less than thirty minutes making inquiries about it. Talk about high demand!

Chased -Part 1

Chased -Part 3

Two days back, Alvin had sent me eighty thousand shillings. He had volunteered to host me for two weeks. This money was for me to pay for a room and keep my property there for a month. However, I had not been paid for August and I was literally at zero, so, I planned to use this money, return on Monday the following week and pay the person keeping my property for two months.

I withdrew 75k, paid off the two boys and we headed to Nakulabye. Apparently, a broker had booked me space in that area to leave my belongings.

In Nakulabye, I called the broker. This guy had texted me last minute; matter of fact, at midnight. I was packing all morning so I hadn’t gotten the opportunity to check the place out. This is the same reason why I had not negotiated the price with the truck driver. I didn’t know the location of the place where the broker had spotted for me.

As I followed the broker down the slummish area, I felt that this was a huge mistake. First, the place was far from the main road and had so many twists and turns. Regardless, none of that prepared me for the shock of the room the broker had in mind. The rooms  were in a pitiful state.

One of them was a woman’s room already packed with so many things. It was a single room that acted as the bedroom, sitting room and all that. Then it was incredibly small. Even worse, the space she had in mind was the upper bed of a kid’s three-decker bed. Not even 10% of my things would fit there. When it was obvious I didn’t like it, the guy took me to her neighbor’s place. It was just a few steps away ’cause the rooms were frighteningly small. In this second one, the space they were offering was that near the doorway. Honestly, I think the only thing that could fit there was my suitcase. However, I wondered, if not to step on my things, how would they enter and leave the room, how would they move about to get chores done or any other activities? The owner of this second room was also a woman. Both had kids. I thanked them and walked away. Never in a million years was I leaving my things there.

Out of options, I asked the driver to stay with the things. I requested that he finds somewhere to keep them. Come Monday, I would pass by and bring money for two months. Actually, two days back I had asked him to help me look around for some safe space, because the broker was not taking my calls and I didn’t know whether he had found the place or not. This guy was my plan B. He made a few calls and said there was a place I could use, at least for a month. I told him it was alright.

I gave the driver twenty thousand shillings for transport and an extra ten thousand shillings as a token of thanks for agreeing to help. I told him I would bring the rest of the money later. I thought I had really been generous. 20k for a distance that is 1k on boda? Plus an extra 10k? But this guy was not content. He asked for fifty thousand shillings and my guess was because he had earlier witnessed me withdraw seventy five thousand shillings. At this point, I was about to lose it, so I just grabbed by things and walked away. He followed me. I told him he has my number and my belongings; I suggested he call me later so that we talk about it. It was getting late and I still had a long journey ahead of me out of town. I couldn’t delay much longer. He just kept talking and talking.

When it was quite obvious that we could not reason together, I stopped a taxi and entered. It was half empty and had space enough for all my things. Because I wasn’t sure about where the rest of my things were going, I had added more stuff to what I was initially traveling with. Things like my laptop and the bag that contained my transcripts and other important documents.

The conductor was a nice kid who tried to help. But the truck driver grabbed my bag and refused to let it go.

End of Part Two.

Disclaimer: The names that feature in this story are fictitious. They were made up to protect the identity and privacy of those involved.

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