When the wind and the moon decides

Just another Bikozulu prowess ...

He sits at the bar in a pair of shorts in blatant defiance of the cold evening of Nanyuki. He’s in shorts because he’s 25 years old & his very bones are still fire that warms his body. He smokes elegantly & holds his beer by its neck with his long fingers that reminds one of twigs. He talks fast and sleek, his confidence a strong gale. 

He recently quit his job as Digital Sales and Marketing Administrator. “My boss was a jackass.” (He didn’t use the word jackass, he used a more colorful word ). “I was the company bitch for two years. I couldn’t take it."

Two months ago - with the flourish of Gen-Z - he told his boss to stuff the job in his pipe and smoke it and moved back home to Nanyuki. His household items are still in his house in South B, though, because he might go back. Or he mightn’t. The wind & the moon will decide. 

“So what do you do now?” I asked him. 

“I hold the key to this town.” He said so confidently I came dangerously close to believing him.” He tapped the ashes off the nose of his cigarette. “Anything you need, anyone you need, I will make it happen.” 

For money, he paid membership at Nanyuki Sports Club. Now he spends his days at the Club betting on golf games. He wears a proper dress shirt and pants and he sits with “old fogies” (men and women in their 40s upwards, I suppose) and he bets. “I lose but I also win and when I do I can make enough to sit here and have drinks.” After the club he changes his clothes in the car, wears his cool -kid- uniform and sits in the cold at the bar in Downtown in his shorts and many tattoos on his arms and stomach, one that reads Philippians. 4: 13. 

“How long is this sustainable for?” I asked of his lifestyle - like an old fogey.

“I’m still young,” he said. “I’m allowed to make mistakes.” For now he’s free to twist in the wind and even let it carry him along.

#bikozulu

#sunsetsaga