JIJI NDOGO: Mombasa raha gets between cop lovers

As far as I can tell, Mombasa is very much like any other town – only older and lazier. It’s like time here passes at a slower pace than the rest of the country. They have all the time to spit their tobacco and call us “Watoka bara” as if we have a sign on the forehead written “Jiji Ndogo”.

“Give it a chance, will you?” Sgt Sophia says, towelling salt water on her face. She’s loving it here though for the love of me, I can’t tell why. “Coast people are very welcoming, actually.”

“No, Sophie, they are boastful,” I say.

“Why would you say that?”

“They feel good because they have an ocean and we don’t.”

She laughs. Her laughter sounds louder and more exaggerated here. “You can’t be serious. It feels like you hate them because they have an ocean and you don’t.”

“Me hate them for a useless body of water? You are so wrong, my friend. I truly don’t care for the ocean. It’s a vast toilet for sharks and dolphins and whales. Do you know whales are the size of a city bus?”

“So?”

“Imagine the size of poop from something that big. A city bus could poop a Volkswagen beetle, you know. Imagine all that crap getting absorbed in the water and floating everywhere. Then, there you are, happily swimming in the ocean and swallowing whale poop.”

“Is that why you didn’t want to go into the water?”

“No, that’s because sharks and piranhas live in the ocean. And I don’t know how long they might have gone without a meal. You want to be shark dinner? Be my guest.”

Her jaw drops, mouth open. She puts a hand to her lips. “Oh my God! You don’t know how to swim, do you? That’s why you’re talking all this BS about whales and oceans.”

“I can swim. If you must know, I’ve been known to make a fish or two jealous with my swimming prowess.”

“Okay, then. Let’s go take a dip.

“Thank you,” I say, “but I’m good. Some of these beach boys look lonely and I’m happy to keep them company.”

Sophia looks around and drops her voice almost to a whisper. “Talking of beach boys, one of them approached me with a very enticing offer.”

A thousand alarm bells go off in my head. “He did?”

“He tells me that there are some bored old white men who come here all the time, and that they have more money than God.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of money, but what does it have to do with you?”

“He says he can hook me up with one of them. Imagine that. I could be a millionaire overnight. How long do you think it will take me to make a mil as a cop?”

“Probably never, but Sophia, you are married. Did you tell him that?”

She jerks away as if I just slapped her. “First of all, we’re only married under common law, okay? Secondly, these blokes don’t care if I have a herd of kids. We could share the money.”

“Fine. Go.”

I storm off. She comes after me. “C’mon, hon. You know I’m just playing.”

Then, I start singing. “Duniani kuna mengi sawa sawa na bahari, kuna papa na nyangumi tena wale hatari. Hawapendi kuiona meli yetu baharini...”

She slaps my arm. “For a minute there, you scared me.”

I laugh. “You think you’re the only one who can play this game?”