Twisted Times: Son of Man (Twisted Times Trilogy Book 1) by Vincent de Paul Page A
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Authors: Vincent de Paul
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other end picked up.
A female…
CHAPTER 43
As usual I took the Saturday Nation newspaper that was in Urbanas’ Madonna Hostels room and went straight to my favourite page – ‘Leisure’. It was the first stopover before proceeding to the obituaries page to check the moguls who had died, because not everyone pays over fifty thousand shillings for the space on the papers. Urbanas himself was reading the Moonbeam , the second largest and fastest growing newspaper after the Nation Media Group’s the Daily Nation.
I filled the simple crossword puzzle and the code-word grid puzzle, and when I was done I proceeded to the obituaries. There were no victims who worth our nocturnal visits, they were all from out of town, out of Nairobi. .
I don’t know why I decided to go through the whole paper this day. Maybe I still ought to know something about the living too. As usual the sensational stories took the front page. It was another illegal drug haul at the Coast - Cocaine Seizure at the Coast. I had glimpsed a similar headline on the Moonbeam : Mexican Drug Lords Thrive at the Coast.
Urbanas’s words the day he was trying to enlist me in the gang came back to me: “ the best place to hide is in people’s hearts, let them trust you , build and fortify that trust, speak against human fears and tragedies, promise a plausible paradise knowing that hell is real. Even Satan was party to heaven before God feared He might lose His power to Satan…”
I continued to the second page to scan through other headlines.
I never read further than page three partly because I was not interested and partly because I was shocked. The second page had the headline of a person I knew, right from home, his story continued on page three.
It was Uncle Job. It was quite ironic he was to make headlines while he was not there to know that he had. It was his dappled looking face and eyes like those of a cat that caught my attention otherwise I would not have wasted my time on some businessman who had been shot dead at his home, just another mogul who was due to give us another wad of cash.
I read his story.
I couldn’t say it was touching. I felt nothing. He was just like the others who died daily; others who died and were buried without the whole world knowing. The emphasis of Uncle Job’s story was the increasing insecurity in the country. Some of his business friends had implored the government to do something to the rising insecurity in the country.
Now that was news.
CHAPTER 44
Friday, 13 th June;
At exactly 1830Hrs – I too had become accustomed to this military timings crap like Urbanas – I changed to a cream suit and an ecru shirt with a marching stripped tie. My black leather shoes were perfectly polished as though I too passed through cadet school in Lanet, Nakuru like Urbanas. I put on a pair of specs and completed my face of deception.
This day we gave the dead a break, a hiatus I’m sure was very much welcome. Since our graduation to hired goons business had been booming. Hijackings and kidnappings were our new modus operandi meant to convey a certain message to the victims who ranged from business rivals, political bickers (whom we called poli-ticks), a vengeful wife, fiancée, girlfriend – anybody who paid the right price. Urbanas was many a time hired to do lone assignments, precisely to kill and that’s why he wanted us to graduate to be with him.
The strategy was that we act like highway robbers and hijackers, but the actual job would be to kill somebody important, a sanctioned murder, and obviously insecurity would be to blame. The police would be sent on a wild goose chase looking for phantom highway robbers. Killings and ‘police’ extrajudicial executions along most roads in Nairobi and her outskirts ensued. No one, even to date, has ever been nabbed.
There were other gangs too and in order to avoid running into each other, we mapped the entire Nairobi area and respected the
A female…
CHAPTER 43
As usual I took the Saturday Nation newspaper that was in Urbanas’ Madonna Hostels room and went straight to my favourite page – ‘Leisure’. It was the first stopover before proceeding to the obituaries page to check the moguls who had died, because not everyone pays over fifty thousand shillings for the space on the papers. Urbanas himself was reading the Moonbeam , the second largest and fastest growing newspaper after the Nation Media Group’s the Daily Nation.
I filled the simple crossword puzzle and the code-word grid puzzle, and when I was done I proceeded to the obituaries. There were no victims who worth our nocturnal visits, they were all from out of town, out of Nairobi. .
I don’t know why I decided to go through the whole paper this day. Maybe I still ought to know something about the living too. As usual the sensational stories took the front page. It was another illegal drug haul at the Coast - Cocaine Seizure at the Coast. I had glimpsed a similar headline on the Moonbeam : Mexican Drug Lords Thrive at the Coast.
Urbanas’s words the day he was trying to enlist me in the gang came back to me: “ the best place to hide is in people’s hearts, let them trust you , build and fortify that trust, speak against human fears and tragedies, promise a plausible paradise knowing that hell is real. Even Satan was party to heaven before God feared He might lose His power to Satan…”
I continued to the second page to scan through other headlines.
I never read further than page three partly because I was not interested and partly because I was shocked. The second page had the headline of a person I knew, right from home, his story continued on page three.
It was Uncle Job. It was quite ironic he was to make headlines while he was not there to know that he had. It was his dappled looking face and eyes like those of a cat that caught my attention otherwise I would not have wasted my time on some businessman who had been shot dead at his home, just another mogul who was due to give us another wad of cash.
I read his story.
I couldn’t say it was touching. I felt nothing. He was just like the others who died daily; others who died and were buried without the whole world knowing. The emphasis of Uncle Job’s story was the increasing insecurity in the country. Some of his business friends had implored the government to do something to the rising insecurity in the country.
Now that was news.
CHAPTER 44
Friday, 13 th June;
At exactly 1830Hrs – I too had become accustomed to this military timings crap like Urbanas – I changed to a cream suit and an ecru shirt with a marching stripped tie. My black leather shoes were perfectly polished as though I too passed through cadet school in Lanet, Nakuru like Urbanas. I put on a pair of specs and completed my face of deception.
This day we gave the dead a break, a hiatus I’m sure was very much welcome. Since our graduation to hired goons business had been booming. Hijackings and kidnappings were our new modus operandi meant to convey a certain message to the victims who ranged from business rivals, political bickers (whom we called poli-ticks), a vengeful wife, fiancée, girlfriend – anybody who paid the right price. Urbanas was many a time hired to do lone assignments, precisely to kill and that’s why he wanted us to graduate to be with him.
The strategy was that we act like highway robbers and hijackers, but the actual job would be to kill somebody important, a sanctioned murder, and obviously insecurity would be to blame. The police would be sent on a wild goose chase looking for phantom highway robbers. Killings and ‘police’ extrajudicial executions along most roads in Nairobi and her outskirts ensued. No one, even to date, has ever been nabbed.
There were other gangs too and in order to avoid running into each other, we mapped the entire Nairobi area and respected the
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