The Problem

Across the street, in a half-constructed office block with no windows and too much dust, Ali, Kendi and Shiko watched Jet storm out of the neutral building. He stepped into the open night and let out a roar before smashing his fist into a concrete beam.

The beam cracked slightly.

“Woof,” Shiko muttered. “Guy’s got serious anger issues.”

Ali watched as Jet turn as a car pulled over and stepped inside.

“That’s not a just guy idiot. That’s Jet. Juma’s brother.”

“He's kinda hot though,” Kendi said, squinting. “Hard to believe they’re related.”

“They had different fathers,” Ali replied automatically, scribbling in the small notebook Eazy gave him. 

Time, Exit direction and Car model. He was too far to get the plate.

“Oh, I get it,” Shiko slid an arm around Ali’s neck in a sloppy chokehold. “And don’t call me a idiot. Idiot.”

Ali, still trying to write, sighed through the choke.

“First of all,” he said calmly, “it’s an idiot. The article changes before a vowel sound. ‘Idiot’ begins with a vowel. Therefore ....”

Shiko tightened the choke. “.....Therefore you’re an idiot for correcting me.”

“It’s called linguistic precision,” Ali coughed.

“Enough lovebirds,” Kendi cut in. “We should bounce before someone—”

“Wewe! Mnafanya nini hapa?!”
(You! What are you doing here?!)

Shiko stepped in front of Ali as he hid the notebook. Kendi took a step back looking down.

“Wewe! Inua mikono!” (You! Hands up!)

It was two uniformed officers standing in front of them aiming guns. Ali stood after placing the notebook under the back of his shirt and looked at the officers. 

One was taller with a scrubby moustache and the other was clean shaven with thick eyebrows. But their looks weren’t the interesting part to Ali. He noticed they weren’t wearing the Government ADU uniforms but ones worn by the previous police before the current's president's tenure.

The taller one stepped forward. “Mnajua masaa za curfew zimefika? Mnafanya nini hapa?’ (You know curfew time is up? What are you doing here?”)

Ali clocked their boots. Muddy with dark green coloring. And the distinct smell from them? There was only one place that could be and it was in the South.

Shiko forced a grin. “We’re just students, mkubwa (boss)....finishing an Architecture project.”

“At 11 p.m.?”

Kendi stepped forward smoothly. “Deadline ni tomorrow.”

The shorter officer studied them carefully.

Because they were in Westlands, the trio had on much nicer clothes than usual so their story actually worked.

“You…kids should be careful,” he said quietly. “There’s a lot happening in this city, especially at night.”

Ali held his gaze. “Of course, sir.”

The officers exchanged a look.

“Go home,” the tall one said. “And if you see anything strange around here… report it.”

He handed them his card with two numbers.

"Something like what?" Kendi asked.

“ Just....anything. That’s my personal cell. You can reach me anytime.”

Ali nodded looking at the name.

Sergeant Rambo Kiprono.

“Rambo?” Ali whispered.

“My mother was a fan of the films,” Sergeant Rambo said smiling. “I think anyway.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

A cold wind flew from where the trio were to the unfinished building, carrying the distant hum of traffic — matatus, sirens, life happening far below them, unaware that its future was being negotiated over plastic chairs

“Mtemi’s running again?” Frances asked.

Cajante clicked his tongue. “Of course he is. Imekuwa ka private business kwake.” (It's been like a private business for him)

Zengo leaned forward, elbows on the table, fingers steepled. “And business has been good, hasn’t it?”

Cajante smiled. “Silalamiki.” (I'm not complaining)

“So we agree,” Zengo said smoothly. “Mtemi for the win.”

“Hold on,” Frances said, “there are other candidates in play. Real ones for example, the Professor.”

Eazy frowned. “ professor?”

“Amani Kilonzo,” Cajante explained. “An economist professor who’s been campaigning heavily lately. Ako na ma-idea." (He's got some interesting ideas)

Zengo laughed. “He can campaign all the way to the moon.”

“He’s popular,” Frances said.

“So was Mshimu,” Zengo replied. “Look how that ended.”

Silence.

Eazy’s stomach tightened. He remembered too well what happened with the former president. Mshimu had ruled for over 8 years and wanted to extend his reign which didn’t go well with the public. Riots began and many died until Mtemi took control, with Zengo’s help of course.

“Are we all forgetting what Mtemi has done,” Zengo said, his voice calm. He tapped the map still spread across the table.

“Before him, territories didn’t exist. Police were too righteous and Money was not flowing.”

Cajante leaned back. “He does have a point there Frances.”

“I suppose,” Frances replied. “But let’s not rule out Amani just yet. The streets are getting restless now that new Police have started popping out.”

“Don't worry, he's aware of all that,” Zengo cleared his throat. “including the identities of these idiot police men….”

“then why not kill them?” Cajante asked.

“Mtemi believes we need control instead of reaction. Killing the cops will only make them Martrys... and martyrs create movements.”

Frances folded her arms. “And what exactly is our role in this control?”

Zengo finally turned to Eazy.

For the first time that night, really looked at him.

“Stability,” Zengo said. “We keep our territories quiet for now. Business will still go on but no unnecessary blood and news coverage especially during the campaign. Speaking of the campaign.... Eazy and his little crew has agreed to serve. He’s well respected by all the territory leaders and can serve as our ears on the ground.”

Cajante scoffed. “I know what you want Zengo. To spy on us. Siezikubali!” (I won't allow it!)

Musa’s jaw tightened.

“You want us to spy on people?” Zuri snapped.

Zengo laughed softly. “No, no. I just want to make sure no conspiracy theories are running around down there. We’ll keep the streets fed….discreetly and they give us their support. Simple. Help us to help them help us.”

“Na professor?” Cajante asked.

Zengo smiled. “As Frances said, Amani is well liked by the masses so we’ll leave him alone…for now. Any other questions or concerns?”

Frances didn’t look at him, neither did Cajante.

Eazy felt the weight of it all press down on him. Flashbacks of the past kept reminding him of what would happen  when things would go to shit. Zengo might be disliked by everyone here but they all knew better than to cross him.

“Guess that’s all everyone until next time,” Zengo finally said pulling Shantel close, sliding his tongue into her mouth.

Eazy watched the leaders disappear down separate stairwells before sharing a glance with Frances.

“Baadaye Eazy,” she said. (Next time Eazy)  

Eazy didn’t respond.

Zengo released everyone except for Eazy and Otis. He was overlooking the city when he casually said; 

“Jet is a problem.” 

Eazy’s shoulders stiffened.

Zengo turned. “Does he know what happened to Juma?”

His voice was cold, menacingly so that Eazy’s pulse spiked. This was the Zengo he knew, not the peace keeping one he was pretending to be in the meeting. He felt stupid that he had almost forgotten. The person who shot Juma in cold-blood was asking him that question like it was nothing.

“No.”

“Good,” Zengo said again. “We need to silence him.”

“Zengo,” Eazy started, "ni issue small." (It's just a small issue)

“I don’t care about him disrespecting me in front of everyone. That’s horse shit…”

“He’s grieving,” Eazy said. “Let me talk to him.”

Otis stepped forward. “Talking won’t fix this.”

Eazy shot him a look but Otis didn’t flinch.

Zengo nodded slowly.

“See? Otis gets it.”

Eazy stared at him. “You don’t need to kill him though.”

“You’re right, I don’t. “ Zengo walked closer. “But him closing the South will interfere with the supply chains. That affects elections which affects Mtemi. And I can’t allow that.”

“Please don't do this Zengo. You want me to be your ears and i'm telling you....this will start a war. A war we can't hope to win."

“Right again. I'm not stupid....i know killing Jet will alienate the South and the other leaders and I need their loyalty.  Loyalty is currency, Eazy."

Zengo paused, his hands touching Eazy and Otis pushing them closer to each other. “And right now? I’m investing in both of you. I don't care how you do it...but get me a solution to this problem. Hopefully before the Elections.”

Outside rain started to pour and thunder rolled in, almost as an indication of what’s to come.