The things we do for love!

Most of the things people do for love are usually kinda unbelievable, ridiculous, humiliating but rarely painful. But when dealing with one character, anything is possible, and most probably it will be painful.

We are talking about Marto.

Dude always has interesting luck. The luck of a toilet fly having gladly discovered a generous amount of s**t, only for it to be flushed away. (for luck of a better example)

1. The writing is in the brain.

The year is kitambo. The place is primo. The class is six. The teacher is at the front writing the lesson’s notes on the blackboard. The chick is sitting next to Marto. And Marto, well, is bugging her.

This is primary school, so you have to remember that ‘bugging’ a chick really meant you ‘loved’ that chick. The more you ‘bugged’ her the more you liked her.

Of course, as usual, this girl matured way before this boy (Marto is still struggling to mature) so her ‘interpretation’ skills changed. To her bugging is plain bugging. Not love. If it were last month, she would have felt the love, but she matured this month and she was now feeling bugged bugged.

Marto, like most guys, didn’t get (or show any intention of getting) an A in reading signs. So him he continues to share his love with this fly chick seated next to him. His deski. Despite the many attempts the chick is making to lenga him.

Ten minutes of ‘loving’, however becomes too much for our chiley. And since she’s mature enough, she doesn’t need any teacher’s assistance. She’s a lady and can take care of herself.

Oh and she did.

She reciprocates her ‘love’ by grabbing her newly sharpened Staedtler pencil and politely (with great force) shoving it, rather drilling it, into Marto’s head.

SCREAMS!

Teacher turns to find Marto with a pencil in his head. Used to Marto the teacher is cool,

“Martin, when I said put away your pencils, I didn’t say you could put yours there.”

Well, the teacher grasped the urgency of the situation when Marto didn’t laugh back. He usually laughs. He was rushed to the sanatorium in good time and unleashed for first aid.

Marto survived, and this moment in history was ‘penciled’ in his brain…plus, he never tried to show that much love again.

2. Itching for love!

The time; one evening many years later after the pencil ordeal.

The place; outside a chiley’s house.

The task; darting this fine squeeze.

(the exact conversation was left out because we discovered that being the only bean in someone’s githeri may not be very digestible in this day and age)

So Marto is over there at the gate of this gorgeous girl’s house. I must say lyrics were flowing. Darts were being unleashed in a way that would have made those guys who played the Tusker Festival of Darts very proud…

“Martin you require…”

Anyway, so yeah, lyrics were flowing. Yaani mpaka the chick had drawn a detailed map of Africa in the dirt.

Clarification.

The scene is actually set in Limuru, hence the dirt. And what happened to chileys drawing maps…I blame the lack of proper geography lessons. (ok, we also lost our mad skills)

If Marto had looked he would have finally seen where Guinea Bissau is located. But his eyes were fixated on the girl’s sweet round face. Once in a very frequent while the eyes would slide down her smooth curvaceous body, ‘speed bumping’ in the chest area. He would have looked into her eyes but she was feeling ‘shame on me’ coz of the sweet vibe she was getting so was looking away.

But like they say every good thing comes to an end.

“HAIYA! FATHE!”

The chick’s dad came home early that day. And he wasn’t in a happy mood. His drinking plan must have been katisiwad. The local Mwendas was closed. Anyway, whether he was in a good mood or not, there is no way you are ‘lyricing’ his daughter. Kwanza by Marto. Never. He’s not only afraid his ‘precious’ will be deflowered (too late) but he’s worried of the devaluation. Instead of the 100 heads of cattle as dowry she can attract, it would be like ten goats and a bonus of 20 chickens. After Marto is done with her.

Marto was a definite no-no!

So he had no time to run, plus the only exit was huko where the dad was coming from. He quickly and stealthily jumped into the bush nearby.

MISTAKE!

One word. (Unfortunately, I only know the Kikuyu name for it)

Dhafai!

(Dhafai is some plant with pumpkin-like leaves that cause a nasty itch when touched. I think it’s the stinging nettle.)

Marto had jumped head first into a bush of dhafai (stinging nettles). Two seconds later he was jumping out.

AAAAARGH!

He almost knocked chiley’s daddy down. And chiley’s daddy himself was so terrified he unleashed the only two karate stances he knew and the wildest battle cry he could muster.

AIYAAAAAAH!

In a flash, Marto had disappeared. Only stopping after a 500-metre sprint to scratch himself raw.

Poor Marto.

3. When darts meet arrows!

Yaani, by now Marto was wishing these were the good ol’ days. The days when guys just waited for chicks to go to the river and they would abscond with the flyest….and lightest.

Place; Limuru bado.

Exactly where; at the gate of ana’a chiley. (this was many months later…Marto sio playa)

Time; not the good ol’ days.

Marto had been seeing this chick for a while now. Three weeks, that’s quite a while.

Anyway, this chick’s digs is on the other ridge and getting to her place is a saga in itself. Hills, grasslands, fences, dogs, and when you get there, you have to deal with brothers. And of cos the father.

This time however, no bush or karate 101….

It was a fine Sato morning, around 11, and I was taking Marto to visit the ipod of his eye..(bana we are moving with the times, ‘apple’ is so old skool, na since Apple make macs, iphones and…). I hate taking guys to see their chicks, coz I usually end up zoobing and counting grass blades. But this day I was bored and I’d rather count blades, plus, you never know labda ako na sister…

We had successfully conquered the hills, fyekad through the grasslands, jumped fences, fed the dogs with dust as we ran…so now we just had to deal with the bros and the fathe.

We were just entering the gate when…

WHOOOOSH!

Eish. We looked at each other. What was that?

WHOOOOOSH!

Enyewe, I had joked that I can dodge bullets, but these weren’t bullets.

“NYINYI!”

We looked up to see the fathe, gesturing angrily at us. In his hand was…boss, a bow. On his shoulder, a quiver full of rusted arrows. Once again it seemed that Marto’s reputation had preceded him.

ZOOOM!

We were away!

Back the same way we came. Dogs, fences, grassland, hills, etc only faster. For half the way, the fathe was unleashing arrows at us. Luckily you can’t shoot straight from a bow while running. Yaani, one fathe had jifanyad Jackie Chan, this one now was Robin Hood. And he wasn’t robbing no rich folk.

Needless to say, that ka relationship didn’t last.

The things we go through for love! Rather, the things Marto went through for love.