Unpaid spies who watch you night and day
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Updated 1 hrs 27 mins ago
By Jeckonia Otieno
The National Security Intelligence Service think they are on top
of things, but it might shock them that the average shopkeeper has
‘intelligence’ their spies have never heard of.
Don’t be cheated by the barmaid or watchman’s bored look. They
don’t miss a thing and their minds are a minefield of clandestine information
that would make Wikileaks proud.
These information databases are freely found in
the residential estates, especially areas that teem with humanity. In
Eastlands, Nairobi, for instance, it is common for shops and bars to share the
same premises with tenants, not to mention schools and churches.
Take an example of a storey building in
Ghorofani, Mathare, where there are three shops on the ground floor, a noisy
bar complete with belligerent patrons on the first floor and a church that competes
for attention by drumming and screaming hellfire through the rooftop.
Hawkeyed
Of course both saturate patrons with spirit. One
saturates the heart, the other saturates the head and both alter the worldview
— temporarily at least! Now picture the sort of information that a hawkeyed
‘spy’ can gather in such a place.
The first information archive are the
shopkeepers. They know who is who, what is happening but what would not appear
in your daily newspaper — like the housewife who keeps mandazi in her bedroom
or orders the house help to wash the family underwear. Yet they are so trusted
that residents entrust them with their house keys.
Kamau wa Njoki, a shopkeeper in Kariobangi
North, says he has seen what men and women are all about, but he dare not divulge
secrets because that would mean the death of his business because customers
would run from him.
He talks of having seen men and women who cheat
discreetly for years on their spouses and is familiar with those who start
borrowing from the kiosk barely hours after payday.
He talks of a man who leaves every morning for
work, but dutifully sneaks back mid-morning every Wednesday when his wife is
away. He needn’t wonder what a man would be doing at home when his fellow men
are toiling in town or industrial area. Has to be the house help, the very girl
whose boss loudly calls ‘stupid and ugly.’
On housewives who remain behind when their
husbands have gone to toil, he stops short of calling them terrorists.
"Fights, quarrels, petty jealousies,
hatred, witchdoctors sneaking in while husbands are away... the things I see in
this place are amazing!" he muses with a wry smile.
Embarrassment
It’s young men who amuse Kamau most.
"They come and engage you in long-winded
stories without really saying what they want. Or they just hung around shifting
nervously from one foot to another. But when the last customer goes, they
mumble "Ile (that)," while pointing at condoms.
"They disappear very fast after getting
them and you do not see them for a whole week, probably due to
embarrassment!"
What the young men never figure out is that
shopkeepers not only know where their condoms are headed, but also know another
fellow who bought a similar package the previous day with the same woman in mind.
He notes that Sunday afternoons, ironically
after the church service, are the best selling days for these seemingly
precious commodities.
Caleb Oluoch, a shopkeeper in Huruma, notes with
disdain that there is this group of people who borrow from him when they are
broke, but the moment they get money, they sneak past his shop at night with
hefty supermarket paperbags.
Arrears
"They disappear without a trace only to
reappear when their fortunes start dwindling yet they have not paid even the
initial arrears. Others even change routes to avoid being seen," Oluoch
complains.
Another group of secret keepers are chemists who
operate within estates. They have seen it all. Apart from people buying
unprescribed drugs, there is another commodity that goes like hotcake over the
weekends — emergency pills.
Mercy Ndunge, a chemist attendant, says what
tickles her most is how men behave when they walk in to buy this crucial
medication.
"Most of them are ridiculously shy while
others offer wild stories like how they are buying the pills for friends who
are going to talk to students about the effects of HIV and Aids!"
She laughs at how fast they disappear the moment
they get the goods — lest, perhaps, their girlfriends conceive while they are
still talking to her.
The other spy in the estate is that faceless,
weather-beaten watchman fondly referred to as soja. He mans the gate and
covertly watches who arrives with whom and when.
A woman who broke up with her boyfriend says she
rarely talks to watchmen after one of them whispered her life history to her
boyfriend. For only Sh200, he gave a vivid account of how she lived and the
number of male friends who came to visit and for how long they stayed.
But Fred will forever be grateful to watchmen.
Following a series of domestic squabbles with his wife, the watchman called him
one evening and warned him not to come home.
"Boss, I have seen some people with madam
and they don’t look like good people. Don’t come home tonight," he was warned.
And sure enough, when he took the precaution of
coming home accompanied by two police officers, he found five strangers armed
with crude weapons lounging 100 metres from his gate. The couple has since
split.
Experience
But it is barmaids that take the trophy. They
know when you are broke or whether you are a gangster the moment you walk
through the door. They know your HIV status, how many illicit flings you have
had in two months, how much you are stealing from your employer and whether you
own a toilet in the village.
They know men who never pay bills, those who
always mooch on their friends and those that are certain to die for one reason
or other. Due to experience, they can sniff a ‘clean’ prostitute from a mile
off as opposed to one who will lace your drink and rob you dry.
Barmaids are also better placed to get that
extra cash to supplement their income because men value the price of silence.
They would hate rumours concerning their constant patronage of the dingy
lodgings behind the bar filtering to the wrong people.
A story goes of a man in Mathare North who
slapped a barmaid but what followed made him sober up. He left the pub reeling
from a severe tongue-lashing peppered with intimate details of how and why his
wife strays.
The man, a father of two, could only thank his
stars that his wife was nowhere within earshot as he was publicly torn to
pieces. His ego bruised, he tried to beat her up but quickly learnt that you
can’t touch a popular barmaid. Fellow patrons told him to dare.
So don’t think your life is a secret because you
sleep with your door shut and barred. ‘Big Brother’ is always watching and
without these quiet eavesdroppers, the police would never solve crimes.
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