KAKAMEGA

KAKAMEGA

They (county government) have erected a new street light by the Kisumu stage.

A mockery really if all it’s meant to illuminate are the potholes that scar the surface of the once smooth tarmac. A glory of forgotten days when the town was a small neat, lazy town. Before the students from MMUST invaded the town and overnight thrust it into a vortex of activity that was previously a bedtime story of “I can’t believe how much other towns are crowded.”

Once upon a time, there were road signs marking every junction and street in kakamega. Now what remains are skeleton posts so aged, weather beaten and rusted to the point that they have bent over. These are the lucky few signs that have escaped the marauding street urchins who vandalize them for scrap metal. The roads are a sorry sight. Especially when it rains and whole streets get flooded. Drainage has simply gone down the drain, pun intended.

The new market building looks so nice, and so small.

The traders have had to change location three times to give room for the building of the market. The old market was a relic of the days when Kenyans dreamt of a good tomorrow. Of a market that could sustain the small population. That was twenty years ago. Today a new market stands at the same venue. Traders who had previously owned stalls in that maze of tents, nylon papers and iron sheets thrown carelessly over a few supporting poles to form  temporary structures that  could stand for five years. That smelly jumble of pathways barely wide enough to accommodate two people walking side by side in which chicken that have been reared in the chicken runs in the  market stink, mixed with the smell of an assortments of  all traditional vegetables and the ever present smell of garbage from the pits around the market. These traders moved with all their wares setting camp first in front of the New KIE before being relocated again to the behind the stage.

The new market is complete. Resplendent   in yellow and cream colors. It’s been over a year since construction came to an end. The grand opening is still being waited for though not with as much bated breath as a year ago. Dreams of owning a stall in this new storey building continue to gather dust and fade away to wherever dreams fade to. A court case bubbles away slowly in the cauldron of time. A case regarding the market that will probably take years to resolve while the market stands barred and useless, a relic under the unforgiving African weather.

I was Craving a burger the other day.

Two thirds of what could pass for decent restaurants had no idea what a burger was. Family kitchen had, well, “am eating this because I am really craving this.”

“ I asked for a beef burger, meat well done, not overcooked and charred,” I furiously mouth at the unapologetic waitress who has just brought me the burger at Bel cibo.”

“I will inform the guys at the kitchen.” She responds and walks away not bothering to glance at my table until it’s time to slam the bill on my table.

“I thought this might be different.!” I curse as I regret the why I dint go for the at least edible Burgers at Family kitchen.

I eventually found a place where they sell good burgers over at the Tusky’s mall. In one of the fast food joints. Something you can actually enjoy eating. There is a minus though,  their burgers come with fries which you pay for. “gods don’t they have awful fries!”

“There is a rugby game at Kakamega High today, are you going?”

Thanks to university students, there is now culture in Kakamega. By that I Mean what might constitute pop culture. Night clubs have opened up with a majority of the patrons being students from the universities in the town. Older generations, with sugar cane money are finding a fancy picking up college girls as the town slowly rises from its depths of slumber during nights to parties and functions and drunk youths walking under the solitary street lights leaning onto each other for support in the wee hours of the morning hopelessly drunk as a result of last night’s binge.

Western Bulls is Playing Homeboyz. Half the people who have turned up for the match are drunk already. The air is rife with a smiles, shouts and catcalls. Ladies have turned up looking sharp in floral dresses, miniskirts, dresses, low cut tops and tshirts. The men too look carefree with body fit Tshirts and lots of rugby jerseys. The groupies who consist of almost the entire crowd are here sitting together cackling over drinks and making fun of the others. No one really pays attention to the game. This is an excuse to come out and have fun and be easy before hitting the clubs later in the evening. Bulls lose the game.