All good things must come to an end

Village police post is shut down for being too small

In Summary

• Trust an old flame to be the party pooper just when family has aligned


Just when I thought things were going well in Jiji Ndogo, crap hits the proverbial fan. I’m not even done dealing with the fact that Sgt Sophia, my common-law wife, smeared some fake cream on her face and practically erased all the pores on her skin. Now she can’t even smile or show other emotions.

Meanwhile, her mother, who had been one of Sophia’s original customers (Sophia had been duped into reselling the product), is suffering the same fate. And I should mention this: if Sophia is taking the situation badly, her mother is quadrupling it. I mean, if Sophia is a fire cracker, her mother is “Little Boy”, the bomb dropped on Hiroshima.

To make matters worse, Inspector Tembo, my boss and Sergeant Sophia’s father and Sophia’s mother’s boyfriend (it’s a mouthful, I know), thinks it’s all my fault because real men protect their women. Apparently, I somehow failed in this age-old responsibility. Please don’t ask me how, for I am in the dark with you.

We’re all seated in my boss’s small two-room shack, charting the way forward, when there is a knock on the door. I open it only to be confronted by an older gentleman in a crisp police uniform.

“This is Jiji Ndogo, I presume?” he says in a voice very much like James Earl Jones’s.

“Yes, sir,” I say. “How may I help you?”

He removes his hat. “May I come in?” He does before I can say anything, and walks around eyeing everything like a TV show detective. “Mm-h. Nice people you got here.”

 Seeing the rank on this guy’s shoulder, everyone gets to their feet.

Inspector Tembo puts out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Superintendent. I’m Inspector Tembo. This is Sgt—”

“I know who you all are. I also know what you are not doing.”

“Pardon me, sir?”

“If you’re all here, who’s policing the town?”

“It’s really more of a village than a town. The most policework we do here—”

“Is not find a goat.”

Now, even I am confused. But I keep my trap shut.

“What do you mean?” Inspector Tembo asks.

“I talked to one of your villagers. A Mrs Nyaguthii? She said it’s been four years since she reported her goat lost and to this day, there’s been no conclusion to the case.”

“It’s still an open case, sir,” I chip in, hoping to sound useful.

“Eldoret will be taking over that file and the rest.”

It takes a second for his statement to set in.

Inspector Tembo speaks out first. “Did you say Eldoret will be taking over?”

The Superintendent walks around, picks up a mug and inspects it as if it’s evidence in a murder case. “You got the memo about a year back, didn’t you?”

“What memo?”

“My point exactly. You’re so incompetent down here you don’t even realise when you’re being shut down. We sent out a memo to the effect that all tiny posts like the one you have right here are to be shut down. That’s the only reason that brings me to this neck of the woods.”

“You’re here to shut us down?” Sophia asks, her face as blank as a stone slate. “But the people… the village. It needs us.”

“I don’t make the law, dear,” the cop says. “I only—”

“I only enforce it,” Sophia’s mother, finishes it off. “I was wondering where I’d seen you before. I see you’re now Superintendent Chege.”

“Mrs Kali!” The cops looks stunned. “Is it really you?”

Sophia’s mother smiles at her daughter. “Honey, this is the other man who might be your dad.”

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