JIJI NDOGO: City people just need to chill

If you come visiting and stop at the shop to get some supplies, don’t be surprised that everyone knows just about everything about you. We know who you are visiting, how you are related, where you live, how long you come by and so much more. And no, you never told us any of this. It’s just our way here. So, stop with comments like, “It’s been so long since I was down here.” We knew when you snuck in at night via a bus.

We hate it when you turn up your nose at the smell. Like, what did you expect, Anastasia? Unlike your chuwawa, our cows and goats don’t get toilet-trained. They poop everywhere and don’t even care to hide while doing it. And by the way, we remember pretty well when you left us for the city. Your name was Hannah and you never walked around as if the ground is full of thorns.

The other day, I had to settle a row between one City-zen and a local. The visitor had driven through a gate which he had found locked but decided to leave it open for whatever reason. The neighbour’s animals then found their way into the “greener” pastures on the other side of the fence and feasted on young maize. Somehow, the culprit would not understand how that was his fault.

 As if that wasn’t enough, the man later walked into Shimo La Pewa, our local drinking hole, and decided to bring up the matter, still hoping someone would see the matter his way. When one denizen who had taken one too many bottles confronted him, the city guy decided he could take the much smaller drunk man. In case you live in the city and don’t know this, down here, when you start a fight with one man, you start a fight with the whole village.

After my partner and I calmed the crowd, Githongo came into the scene late and asked, “What did I miss?”

Nyaguthii said, “Si ni jamaa ya Nairobi imeanza vita.”

That was enough for Githongo. He made a beeline for the guy and punched him in the nose. We don’t need to know what happened or who started it, we only need to show the alien he can’t call the shots in Jiji Ndogo.

Since, being the keeper of the law, I witnessed Githongo assault a man — I mean, raise his hand — I’ll have to book him for public disturbance. So he’ll have to sit in our cell for an hour or so. But if the man decides to sue anyone for a problem he started, my back was turned and I saw nothing.

And in case he really does have the itch to report to the authorities, meaning me, he might have to wait several days before we get the necessary paperwork delivered.

Transportation is a b**ch in the village, but that’s not the main reason things go at a snail’s pace here. We’re never in a hurry. If you can’t plant maize and wait patiently eight for months before reaping the benefits, you can give us 30 minutes to hunt for a bag to pack your tomatoes.

So, you’re welcome to visit here, but spare us your tantrums. On the roads, tractors and people carrying firewood on their backs have the right of way.