JIJI NDOGO: Pursuit of a skunk turns matters stinky

Somehow, he’s come to know about a certain witch in our village who claims to have the power to reverse aging, and he’s taking this matter with the seriousness of life and death.

“I can’t spend my time fishing,” he complains as we walk back towards Jiji Ndogo from the hag’s abode in the forest. “And there aren’t many fish you can order to go catch other fish and preserve the evidence chain of custody.”

This made me wonder: “Boss, how long have you been with the police?”

“Since I was six.”

“But surely, sir, you can’t have been employed at that age.”

“Who said anything about a job? Every time we played with my pals, I was the cop, they were the robbers.” He smiles. “One time, I locked my friend inside a granary and demanded his parents post bond before I released him.”

“What? Did they?”

“Nope. I only released him after I received quite the beating from the President.”

“The President?”

“My father. Aren’t you listening?” Suddenly he stops and puts a finger to his mouth. Then in a low voice, he says, “Shhh! Did you hear that?”

“No.”

“Something moved. Deep in the underbrush.” He prods me. “Go check it out.”

“But sir, we’re in the forest. It could be anything.”

“What’s your point? It could be a skunk, right? The oracle, remember? She said we need a skunk for the age spell to work.”

“I remember, sir, she said we need a white goat, a black chicken and a pregnant skunk. A pregnant skunk, sir. Doesn’t that seem… a little—”

“A little what, sergeant?”

“Ridiculous, sir. I mean, how are we going to catch a skunk, let alone a pregnant one?”

The way my boss glowers at me, I might also be staring at early retirement.

“Sgt Makini, are you trying to mock me? Are you saying what I’m doing is ridiculous? Do you think it was absurd that a beautiful Luo girl married a wealthy man who turned out to be a giant snake in disguise?”

“What Luo girl?”

“Or that the Kamba man who mocked a woman’s labour pains became pregnant himself and gave birth?”

Once more, I’m reminded of how disconnected with reality my boss has become.

“Sir, not to say you’re wrong, but how did a man give birth?”

“Through his knee, sergeant, but that’s not the point. The problem with you youngsters and your Ticking Toks and Instant Grams is you think our traditions are trash. Is it ridiculous that the Maasai came from heaven on a hide but it’s okay that Elijah rose to heaven in a flaming donkey cart?”

 “A flaming chariot, sir.”

“And that’s supposed to make sense? If Moses lived for 900 years, why can’t I live for 150?”

“I believe it was Methuselah—”

“Whatever, sergeant. Now go in there and catch me a knocked-up skunk.”

I hesitate as I search for the right set of words to pacify my boss, while masking my intense of fear of creatures in the forest.

“But, sir, you are supposed to get the skunk yourself. If I catch the animal, won’t the spell work in my favour? What if we take it to the witch—”

“Medicine woman, sergeant.”

“Alright, sir. What if we take it to the ‘medicine woman’, then I end up turning into a teenager?”

“I swear, sergeant, if you ruin this for me, I’ll make your life a living hell.”