Buruburu’s streets
hummed with life, with hawkers shouting and motorbikes weaving through traffic.
But inside Jerry’s home in Eastlands, silence carried its own weight, heavy
with suspicion.
Mary, his wife of eight years, had begun to change. Whispered calls behind closed doors, new perfume clinging to her skin, unexplained detours after work.
Jerry tried to convince himself it was only his imagination, a trick of overthinking. But no self-deception could mask the hidden screens, the glacial stare in her eyes or the subtle recoil whenever he reached for her.
“Mary,” he said one evening, voice low, cautious, “why are you always on your phone? I just want to understand.”
Her gaze hardened. “Why do you care? You don’t own me.”
That response lingered like a shadow. And then there was Justin, the neighbour. Young, confident, smooth. His glances lingered on Mary longer than necessary. Alice, Justin’s wife, had suddenly stopped visiting, citing obligations upcountry. Jerry’s gut twisted.
“Why would he keep his wife away? Why now?” he muttered.
Weeks passed, tension mounting. Mary’s coldness grew; questions met with irritation, attempts at intimacy with rebuffs. Jerry lay awake at night, imagining secrets.
Finally, he confided in Mutiso, his friend since childhood.
“You’re drowning, Jerry,” Mutiso said, leaning back. “You can’t control Mary or Justin, but you can control yourself. Rediscover yourself. Build strength. Let her see it.”
“Rediscover myself?” Jerry asked, weary but intrigued.
“Yes,” Mutiso said. “Kip fit. Sweat out doubt. Become someone even you cannot ignore.”
Reluctantly, Jerry agreed.
Months of discipline reshaped him. Muscles replaced doubt, posture replaced slouching and confidence replaced fear. Women noticed, especially Monica, whose warm, teasing eyes followed him.
“You’ve changed,” Monica said one evening. “In a very good way.”
“Thanks,” he replied, chest tightening. “It feels… good to feel alive again.”
Mary noticed, too, and jealousy took root.
“What’s this about Monica?” she demanded one night. “The gym girl controlling your mind?”
“When did you last speak to me without suspicion?” Jerry asked. “When did you last talk without hiding something?”
Weeks later, Jerry discovered suggestive messages between Mary and Justin. She denied everything, but he felt the truth coiled in his gut. Still, he waited.
The breaking point came unexpectedly.
“Justin is more energetic than you,” Mary spat one evening. “I’d rather marry him!”
Jerry exhaled slowly. “Then perhaps this marriage is done. Monica is part of my life now. Accept her as a co-wife — or leave.”
Mary’s lips curled into a sneer. “I’m not choosing. I want Justin!” She stormed out, slamming the door.
That night, she packed her bags, pulse racing. She locked the door, glanced back at the home she had once called sanctuary, then drove to Justin’s house.
Justin greeted her with a smirk. “You’re early.”
“I need a place. Just a few days,” Mary said, voice tight with excitement.
“Fine. You can stay,” he said casually, almost dismissive.
At first, Mary felt triumphant. The thrill of rebellion intoxicated her. Days turned into weeks. Then Justin’s true colours appeared.
“Why are you sulking again?” he sneered one morning, tossing a half-empty cup of tea across the table. “You act like a child who didn’t get what she wanted.”
Mary flinched. “I… I thought you wanted me here.”
“I wanted temporary,” he said coldly. “You’re a guest, Mary. Nothing more. Don’t confuse delusions with reality.”
Weeks passed. Mary’s confidence eroded. Meals were cold, conversations clipped, hours spent alone. Depression crept in.
Then it hit: high blood pressure, dizziness. Mary collapsed. Her phone clattered onto the floor. Neighbours alerted Kananu. Despite her own injuries from an earlier attack, Kananu rushed her to Nairobi Hospital. Justin did not visit.
Meanwhile, Jerry and Monica thrived. Their life together was calm, peaceful and healing.
Mary’s envy twisted into obsession. She hired goons, not to kill but to intimidate Monica. But chaos rarely obeys instructions.
The day of the attack,
Jerry drove to pick Monica from work. Passing Buruburu shopping centre, he
noticed Kananu waiting at a bus stop.
“Need a lift?” he
offered.
“Yes, thank you,” Kananu replied.
Seconds later, a black van screeched across their path. Four men leapt out, dragging Kananu from the car and beating her mercilessly. Jerry shouted, pounding the windows, but they ignored him.
Minutes later, Mary’s phone rang. She punched the air in ecstasy. “Yes! It worked! Finally! I can celebrate.” She fumbled with her keys, preparing to head to a pub.
Then the phone rang again.
“Mary… it’s Jerry,” a voice said, low and tense.
Her smile froze. “Jerry… I—”
“You need to listen,” he said. “The goons attacked someone. Kananu. Your sister. She’s in critical condition at Nairobi Hospital.”
Mary’s world tilted. Keys and bag clattered. Ecstasy dissolved into terror.
“No… no… not Kananu…” she whispered.
As Jerry tiptoed toward the washroom, he overheard her frantic whispering into the phone.
“Listen carefully,” she hissed. “You attacked the wrong person! Kananu, my sister, wasn’t supposed to be hurt. Fix this. Make sure Monica knows nothing happened.”
A gruff voice responded: “How could we have known? You gave us the number plate, the description. The woman in the car matched perfectly. Maybe they resemble each other.”
Mary’s whisper rose. “I don’t care! Fix it! Make sure Monica stays unharmed!”
Jerry stepped forward, shadow falling over her.
“Mary.”
Her head snapped up, eyes wide with panic. “Jerry! I… I was just—”
“You sent goons to hurt my wife,” he said, voice low, deadly calm. “And now your sister is fighting for her life because of you!”
Mary’s knees buckled. “I… I didn’t know… I meant to scare Monica, not… not Kananu!”
Tears streamed down her face. “I… I was desperate. I wanted control. I didn’t know… I… I regret everything.”
Jerry’s gaze softened slightly but remained firm. “Regret doesn’t undo damage. Kananu suffers because of your envy. Monica is safe. I will not let you destroy the life I am building.”
Alone in the sterile hospital room, Mary finally confronted the consequences of her choices. Every scheme, every lie, every obsession had led her here: isolated, sick, powerless, abandoned even by Justin.
