Welcome to the Wild Wild West

The Westlands air was too clean at night.
Streetlights hummed like electric bees as Eazy walked beside Zengo, flanked by Zengo’s boys—faces carved from stone, eyes scanning shadows for threats that didn’t exist.

Musa, JC, and Zuri followed several paces behind Eazy, exactly as instructed.
Do not speak unless spoken to.
Do not look any leader directly in the eyes.
Do not react. Not even once.

Zengo had opposed to new comers at first but Eazy managed to convince him.

The meeting took place in a neutral land as usual.

An unfinished high-rise skeleton near Lavington Upper Hill — concrete floors, exposed pillars, tarpaulins flapping like wounded flags. That was the rule.

All the major territories were to be present.

There was a single round table at the center and plastic chairs fixed on top of each other at the corner. Zengo and his first blood were the first to arrive and he of course had brought his own chair. The man-chair. 

He brought Shantel too for the purpose of drowning her mouth with his tongue, exposing her left top and squeezing her breast firmly.

The First Blood spread out around him like guard dogs, their red-veined tattoos visible even beneath jackets. Zuri fighting the urge to strangle Zengo. Musa’s stomach knotted beside her and JC cracked his knuckles quietly. Eazy took a chair and placed it to Zengo’s right with Otis on the left.

A gust of wind swept in dust as two others approached from the opposite staircase.

Southside came second with the territory’s leader himself.

Jet.

He arrived with just a black jacket without a shirt, dreads pulled back with one hanging at his left eye. His knuckles wrapped in white tape like he’d just come from a fight, which he had.

Jet was a lean brown-skinned guy with tattoos across his arms.

He took controlled steps, his glare firmly fixated on Zengo. He slid out a chair without breaking eye contact and sat next to him.

“Jet,” Zengo smirked. “Didn’t think you’d show.”

“A meeting was called. I came.”

His voice was calm, but Eazy could feel the anger simmering underneath. Why, it was the same anger he was feeling.

Zengo chuckled, setting Shantel from her lap. “Thought you’d still be grieving?”

Jet’s jaw twitched. “Not much one can do for the dead.”

“That is true,” Zengo said laughing but Jet didn’t. “Ever the poet....”

Before Zengo could finish the words, entered Cajante, the Eastleigh leader surrounded by five beautiful women. Each of them thinner than the last. Cajante didn’t so much as walk but floated into the room. He had gold rings on each finger, a black durag and a baggy jacket full of pockets.

The Eastlands was a huge area of the four parts of 254, hence had multiple leaders.

Cajante was one of four leaders, each managing their own territory. Eazy was leader of the the infamous Kawangware streets. The other territories were Dandora and Kibera whose leaders would not arrive today.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Cajante said, taking the third seat. “And Zengo.”

Zengo’s grin vanished. “You want to start something?”

Cajante waved lazily. “Relax. I am in a good mood today. I’m only here to listen.”

His eyes then drifted toward Eazy.

“A blast from the past. I see you finally attended one o’ these meetings huh. Oh and you brought New… beautiful faces.”

He winked at Zuri when saying that last part, who replied with a frown

Footsteps distracted everyone as they all stared at the door. The last to arrive was Frances, the Northside’s newest leader dressed to impress, with no entourage other than a young boy wearing braces.

Musa felt Eazy tense beside him.

Frances nodded to the others taking a seat with final authority.

“Let’s get this over with,” she said.

Zengo clicked his tongue. “Always so cold. I liked Ngugi as much as the next guy…and let’s be honest, she was fucking stacked. Karibu kwa mapambano, Frances bado unatesa tu.” (Welcome to the struggle, Frances. Still beautiful as ever.)

“Hm,” she voiced not smiling.

Cajante slammed his hand on the table. “Alright. Enough flirting. Are we waiting for Varshta and Tombo or what?”

“Nah, we’ll get started without them,” Zengo said spreading a map across the table.

Eazy leaned forward slightly, listening for cues. Musa tried to follow, but the layers of coded threats flew too fast.

“Someone’s been stealing from my shipments.”

Cajante shrugged. “Not me.”

Frances inspected her nails. “Why would I steal that shit from you? It’s not any of us. Perharps you’re first blood is bleeding from the inside.”

Zengo’s eyes flicked toward her then to Eazy at the table.

Jet pushed his chair back with frustration, his hands on the table.

Cajante’s boys reached for knives.
Zengo’s First Blood tightened their circle.
Even Frances leaned forward, eyes narrowing.

“Why…fuck are we discussing shipments when Zengo broke the unspoken rule of 254?”

Zengo tilted his head. “Which one?”

Jet lost it.

“DON’T PLAY STUPID, ZENGO!”

“Cool your jets, Jet,” Cajante said. “We’re not here to trade blows ka machokosh. We are businessmen, sindio?” (We’re…blows like street beggars. We are businessmen, right?)

Jet pointed a trembling finger at Cajante.

“Ati? Someone from my family is DEAD! MY territory. Without my permission! Walai, damu itamwagika leo kama huyu jamaa hatasema ukweli!” (What? Someone....permission! I swear blood will be spilled today if this guy doesn’t say the truth!)

Frances didn’t move, but her eyes flicked to Eazy.

Cajante muttered, “He’s not wrong. That rule keeps 254 from tearing itself apart.”

Zengo tilted his head. “Then maybe you should teach your families these rules.”

Jet paced like a coiled spring, rage boiling beneath each step.

“The fuck did you just say?!”

Zengo leaned back, unimpressed, the man chair wincing.

“Your brother….Juma was in the game,” he said. “He died in the streets. No different from anyone else.”

“You…!”

Jet’s entire body snapped. He moved so fast Zengo barely saw it.

A roundhouse kick swept across the table. The table leeched sideways but Eazy was quick to it, anticipating it. He moved and blocked the kick with his right hand.

“STOP!” Eazy barked.

Jet held his stance—perfect form, balanced, eyes burning.

“That’s your one warning Eazy,” Jet said smirking then pushed Eazy back.

Zengo wiped dust off his jacket, expression blank.

“You done?” he asked. “Or do you want war? Because I am happy to reply in kind.”

“Cocky huh?” Jet laughed. “You think Eazy can protect you from me?”

Zengo stood from his man chair sighing dramatically. “This is exactly why I warned against sentimentality.”

Jet’s fists trembled, his chest heaving.

“So that’s it?” he demanded. “My brother is dead and no one has anything to say, huh?”

Musa tied to speak but Eazy shot him a glance that glued him to the floor.

No one spoke except Frances.

“I feel your loss Jet,” she said. “Juma was like a little brother to me. But think this through, Southside’s operations remain untouched and everyone leader agreed to let Southsides move freely in our territories….”

Jet laughed bitterly clutching his face.

“You’re asking me to sell out my brother Frances? What if it was your sister? Would you let it go?”

“I didn’t say that. Nakukumbusha it’s election season and no one here benefits from a civil war. Look, no one is downplaying Juma’s death but unless you have evidence that Zengo killed Juma, then nothing more can be done…now.”

Jet stared at Frances like she had slapped him.

“Nothing huh?” he repeated slowly then smirked.

“Okay, Frances…I’ll play it your way. That is what this life is right? A game. Fine, I’m not one to start problems, mnajua.” (You know that)

He paused, inhaling deeply.

“I’m announcing immediately that the South is off-limits to anyone and everyone without my explicit approval….”

Jet stared at Zengo before continuing.

“….seeing that I’m in mourning. Otherwise, they’re DEAD. I trust you’ll send the messages to Varshta and Tombo.”

Everyone turned to watch him, even Zengo.

“You know that’s not gonna work Jet,” Eazy said. “We can find a way to settle this peacefully.”

“I’m done with that. I’ll peace it up myself, trust on that Eazy.”

“Hey!” Cajante yelled. “You can’t close up the South, I have people passing by tomorrow. What am I going to do?”

“I couldn’t care less about your trafficking business or Zengo’s shipments,” Jet spoke softly. “No one passes through.”

Then with that Jet left.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” Zengo said throwing his chair. “No one leaves this meeting without my, I mean our authorization.” He turned toward Otis. “Go bring him back.”

Eazy stopped Otis before he moved then stood.

“What’s done is done,” Frances said. “No offense Otis but trying to fight Jet when he’s this mood will only get you killed. Besides, that wasn’t the reason for this meeting. Neither is our personal businesses. We are here to discuss what will happen the next election.”

Zengo exhaled and sat down, gesturing for Shantel to sit on his lap. “I lost my head there for a minute but Frances is right….as always. Let’s get to the important stuff. Who should win the next elections?”

FURTHER INFO ABOUT CHAPTER

Nakukumbusha - I’m reminding you