Kevin's Missing

Kevin's Missing

Jun 23, 2022

When Kevin went missing, if anyone knew about his whereabouts, it would have been his best friend and roommate Mutabaazi. But as it was, Mutabaazi had last seen Kevin at around 8.00 pm on Sunday. At 8.00 pm, almost everyone in Hannah Hostel had convened in the common room to watch the Manchester United vs Arsenal match. Mutabaazi says he and Kevin had entered the common room together and had stood next to each other. Mutabaazi had wanted to say something to Kevin about the Manchester United lineup, but when he turned to talk to Kevin, it was Katumba standing next to him. He looked around the crowded room but he did not see Kevin. He says it was not unusual, Kevin was a social lad. He was probably in a heated argument with someone. 'I didn't see Kevin for the rest of the match, even at halftime,' says Mutaabazi.

#                             

Kevin went missing for eight days. Nobody knew where he was and we were all frightened for him. All his property was still intact in his room. All his clothes and shoes, his laptop, and even his phone was still on his bedside table, where he had left it to charge when he went to watch the Manchester United vs Arsenal match. 

I didn't know Kevin personally. He was friends with my friends but he was not my friend. Kevin was very popular. All the shopkeepers on Kagugube road knew him, even the students in the different institutions and colleges around Kagugube road knew him. The LDC (Law Development Centre) students knew him, the MUK (Makerere University) students, where he was a Bachelors in Finance and Accounting student, knew him pretty well, and even the Multitech Business School (MBS) students, where I was studying a Diploma in Business Computing, knew him.

I only knew Kevin in passing. He was one of those guys who never left the common room. I bumped into him a couple of times on the stairs, on my way to my room. He would stare, then smile, sometimes say hello. Because I always had earphones on I often pretended like I did not hear him. It was no secret Kevin had a crush on me. He had been asking about me for a long time, and the news always got back to me. But I hated his guts and I didn't want to do anything that would encourage him to want to start a conversation with me. 

Kevin wasn't bad looking; in fact, some people might even call him handsome. But he was too loud and too popular for my taste. Not to mention infamous for roasting other students in the Hannah Hostel Whatsapp group, a habit that had garnered him a considerable number of enemies, my roommate especially. Penina hated Kevin so much the sight of him anywhere would ruin her day. And they saw each other often. Did I mention he was a regular resident of the common room! To get to the stairs leading to our room, one has to go through the common room.

The first thing Penina would say when she entered our third-floor room after an encounter with Kevin usually rhymed with, 'that little piece of shit Kevin is in the common room, oh how it would feel to strangle the life out of him.' She would grind her teeth and make strangling gestures with her hands. Every time she saw him she cooked up a new plan to hurt him. The prevailing skim was to have someone beat him up. I always listened to her skims as innocent rants of someone scorned. Not until Kevin's body was discovered, cramped in a black suitcase in the boot of the hostel owner's old junk 1990 Mercedes-Benz that was permanently parked in the Hannah Hostel backyard, next to the food canteen, where many of us Hannah Hostel residents bought food. 

#

Penina was a victim of Kevin’s roasting. Kevin considered Penina Hannah Hostel’s ultimate sugar baby. And he blustered about her being the worst sex he had ever had. Penina and Kevin had dated when they were both freshmen at MUK, about three years before I joined college.

Wandera, the main Hannah Hostel security guard and the food canteen ladies discovered Kevin’s dead body. I am not sure who saw it first. An ugly stench had been growing at the food canteen. The students complained about it and an argument ensued between the students and the women who prepared the food. We accused the canteen ladies of being dirty. But even after a vigorous Saturday general cleaning of the hostel, the stench grew uglier. The main cook and owner of the food canteen Mama Miro said it smelled like a dead body. We all shut our ears to her nonsense. By Monday nobody could get themselves to go to the hostel’s backyard. Mama Miro closed shop for the origin of the hideous smell to be investigated.

I was at school when the body was found. I remember coming back to the hostel at lunchtime after my lectures only to find a crowd of people whispering and shaking their heads outside the hostel gates. Two police trucks were parked in front of the crowd outside, and another was inside. Nobody was allowed to get in or out. That day, all the residents of Hannah Hostel became suspects in a murder investigation, me and my best friend Katumba included. Katumba was a resident in the neighbouring Andama Hostel and was a regular visitor of Hannah Hostel. Everybody who had been at Hannah Hostel on the sixth of March, the Sunday evening Kevin went missing was a suspect.

So many rumours were going around. Who could have done it and why? According to the following day's newspapers, Kevin had died because of severe injuries to the head and ribs. The coroner said he had been beaten to death.

I developed severe anxiety after the body was found and asked to go home but the hostel manager would not let me. No resident of Hannah Hostel was allowed to leave the premises. Not until after giving a statement about their whereabouts the day Kevin went missing. I lied in my statement, I had to. Katumba didn’t give his statement right away, he couldn’t, we had to get our story straight first. 

#

Tuesday, 15 March 2016

A knock on my door woke me up. It was about 7.00 am. I wasn’t happy about it. My alarm was set for 10.00 am, even Penina knew not to wake me up before 10.00 am. It was Tuesday and I knew she wouldn’t be back from her weekend gate away until Thursday. Besides, she had a room key and could open for herself. I wasn’t expecting any visitors. Whoever it was could wait, I thought. I was hell-bent on not getting out of bed until 10.00 am.

The knocking persisted; I imagined policemen were outside my door. And that soon they would be knocking down my door and I would be dragged to jail. I pulled the blanket over my head and pressed my left ear to the pillow, my right hand closed over my right ear. The knocking continued. I shouted into the covers, then jumped out of bed to the door, ready to pounce on whoever was knocking on my door like I owed them money. I didn’t owe anyone any money.

To be honest, I hadn’t had much sleep. A video of Kevin’s parents requesting any information about their son’s death was circulating on social media. It made me queasy when I watched it, and I watched it on repeat for about forty minutes. In the video, Kevin’s mum is speaking, her sombre eyes blinking into the camera, her face wailing. Kevin’s dad keeps his hands on either side of her shoulders, trying to keep her steady, and ready to catch her in case her feet slip under her. 

I teared up watching her beg the police to find the monsters who took her beautiful boy from her. Kevin’s dad shook his head multiple times in the video. I couldn’t help but gawk at his face. It reminded me of Kevin’s face as my foot connected with his jawline. Kevin was definitely a younger-looking version of his father. They had the same perfectly shaped jawline, typical of the Bahima. The same long nose, brown sharp eyes and glowing dark chocolate skin. 

When I opened my door, Katumba stared back at me, his eyes wide open, looking murderous. He looked like he had had a worse night than me, and the smell of alcohol emanated from his every breath.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be doing a test right about now?’ I asked. Nobody took studies more seriously than Katumba, an undergraduate diploma student at LDC.

Katumba closed my door and turned the key. He proceeded to close my open window and pull my curtains shut. I switched on the light. I found the whole act quite baffling.

‘Are you ohh…’ I opened my mouth to ask.

‘What the fuck did you do?’ Katumba erupted before I could finish my sentence.

‘Nha,’ I screwed my face. I had never seen Katumba pissed. Oh, he was raging; he paced the length of my tiny room like a mad man, holding the back of his head with his left hand.

‘What the fuck did you do?’

‘Are you drunk?’

‘Where is the suitcase I gave you Ester?’

‘Aaaahhhh,’ I tried to make sense of what he meant.

‘Where is the suitcase?’ Katumba screeched, holding me by the shoulders.

‘The fuck is wrong with you.’ I shook free of his big hands, annoyed.

‘What is he doing in my suitcase Ester?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Kevin, what’s he doing in the suitcase I gave you?’

‘Unha.’

Katumba produced his phone from his right trouser pocket and gave it to me. I was staring at a picture of the suitcase Kevin’s body was discovered in. My intestines turned. It was Katumba’s suitcase in the picture. I hadn’t noticed it before, I had been trying my hardest not to look at all the pictures on social media about Kevin’s body. The picture was blurred in places, except for a hand sticking out from the suitcase. And the red ribbon at the handle was unmistakable. It was Katumba’s black suitcase from when we were in high school.

‘Fuck,’ I sat down on Penina’s bed. ‘I sold that suitcase three weeks ago.’

‘Whaaaattt? To who? You begged me for that suitcase Ester. Then you sell it!’ Katumba's eyes roared with confusion and anger.

‘I needed the money. It was just sitting here taking up space. I’m sorry okay.’ 

Katumba sat down opposite me on my bed and looked at me, his eyes hard. I knew he loved that suitcase, but I really needed the money at the time.

‘I’m really sorry man,' I said. 

His eyes softened a little. 

‘So who did you sell it to? Clearly, they had something to do with Kevin’s death.’

‘Ahhh. I don’t actually know.’ 

Katumba’s jaw dropped.

‘You don’t know!'

Katumba threw his hands in the air and stood up, walking to the window and looking out through the little space that was left uncovered. He then turned his head to me and watched me. It was his “what is wrong with you stare”. It often meant that he was resigned I didn’t have a reasonable explanation for my actions, but he wanted to hear the story anyway.

‘Wandera sold it for me,’ I explained. Wandera was the kayungirizi at hostel. If you needed anything; he was the guy to call.

‘After I told him I wanted to sell the suitcase. That same evening he came back with a hundred k. He told me someone had wanted the exact kind of suitcase I had.’

‘The same day! Well, isn't that suspicious! Didn't you ask who bought it?’

‘I wanted to, but I didn’t. And he offered no details.’

‘I had that suitcase for six years Essie, six years. You beg me for it then you just sell it the first chance you get!’

The hurt was obvious in his voice. I exhaled heavily, my chest was tensing up. I was getting really anxious.

‘You know there are people who actually know that suitcase is mine.’

‘It’s just a black suitcase,’ I remarked unconfidently.

‘Right, and the red ribbon!’

‘Has anyone talked to you about it?’

‘No, but I’m sure Agaba recognized it.’

Funny, many a time Katumba and I had joked about how we would get rid of a dead body, but disposing of it in a suitcase had never crossed my mind. Although, if I were ever to kill anyone, it would have been Kevin. Someone else had, and I had a feeling about who could have. It frightened me to think about it.

‘Who do you think killed Kevin?' I asked Katumba, standing up to take the joint he had lit, but before he could pass it on both of our phones buzzed hard. I picked mine from the side table and opened it. I stared at it, then at Katumba. I was dump-founded. There was a video of the murder.

In the video, Kevin was being kicked. In the stomach, then the face, then the chest. His face was covered in blood, his eyes were swollen shut, and his lip was cracked. His body seemed lifeless, he looked dead, yet the kicking continued. Someone was laughing in the background, but the music from the nearby discothèque was louder and the shouts of the football fans muted the laugh. It was impossible to tell whose voice it was. I threw my phone on my bed, sat back down on Penina’s bed and held my head in my hands, tears in my eyes. It was heartbreaking to watch the assault on Kevin. Whoever had done that to him was heartless.

I could clearly remember Kevin’s face grimacing in pain as I kicked him in the stomach after Katumba had tackled him to the ground and launched an assault on his face. But we didn’t take the video. And Kevin was alive when we walked away. Cursing at us and promising to tell people that we fuck, but alive. He had caught us kissing at the back of the hostel. Katumba and I never kissed outside either of our rooms. But I like the taste of weed on his lips and we had just shared a joint.

We watched the video over and over again, hoping to catch something telling about who had taken it, but it was too dark and shaky. We couldn’t tell anything apart from Kevin himself. We especially tried to make out the shoes. The only glimpse of them wasn’t wholesome enough for us to conclude what kind they were. Whoever took the video was more focused on capturing Kevin’s face as they kicked him to death. The more we watched the video the more questions than answers I thought of. Who had taken the video? Who had killed Kevin? Who had posted the video? Was it the same person who killed Kevin? If not, how did they get a hold of the video? And who the fuck in their right mind takes a video of themselves beating someone to death! It was too unreal, except it was all real.

As Katumba and I grappled with the reality the video hit us with, one thing was certain, we needed to know who killed Kevin. We had beaten the shit out of him the night he went missing. But someone had done more damage to him after we left, and they might have watched our own confrontation with him. What was more baffling was that this person or people (we didn’t believe one person could do all that alone) had taken the time to stuff Kevin’s body in Katumba’s suitcase. Did they know it was his? More probable they did because it appeared to us someone was trying to make it look like Katumba and I had killed Kevin. I knew I needed to find out who bought my suitcase. Clearly, they were a resident of Hannah Hostel, and most likely are the ones who killed Kevin.

#

Kevin was buried on Thursday, three days after his body was found. I didn’t go for the burial, probably the only person from Hannah Hostel who didn’t. I think I was trying really hard to convince myself that it was not real. I desperately wanted it all to be a dream I could wake up from. But the nightmare seemed to get worse every day that went by. The irony of it all was that the majority of the students who went for the burial had wanted to kill Kevin at some point, and someone had eventually succeeded. I wondered if they felt any remorse. I wondered if they would do it all over again if they could go back. Kevin was an asshole. A class A asshole. He needed to be taught a lesson about his big mouth. But getting killed… he didn’t deserve to die.

Kevin had made so many enemies; any one resident of Hannah Hostel could have been the one who killed him. But it was impossible to tell who hated him that much. He had a lot of fake friends. Most people were friends with him only because they were afraid to get on his bad side. The guy was talented with words, insulting words I mean. He could diss the fuck out of anyone. He even reduced some people to tears. When it came to dissing people, Kevin was king and he knew it. He had even dissed his best friend Mutabaazi at one point, about how Mutabaazi was getting no pussy and how all the girls Mutabaazi fell for ended up on his dick. It occurred to me that Mutabaazi hated Kevin as much as everybody else, probably even more. 

#

Friday, 18 March 2020

As Wandera entered my room, I wondered how I was going to start the conversation.

‘Wasuze Otya Wandera,’ I greeted him.

‘Bulungi, ate gwe,’ he replied, taking a seat opposite me on Penina’s bed.

A deafening silence followed. I stared at my computer on my bedside table, then at Wandera. ‘How do I bring this up?’ I thought.

‘Banange enaku zino nga nzibu,’ I said. ‘Hey I wanted to ask, who did you sell my suitcase to? I think I forgot something there,’ I rapped.

Wandera’s eyebrows shot up.

‘Ah, I sold it to Bossa, the owner of the second-hand shop opposite Andama Hostel.’

‘Oh, do you think he still has it?’

‘Ha, wabula I don’t know. I would have to ask him. I can go there and check for you!'

‘That would be really nice bambi. Thank you.’

‘Kale, let me go finish what I was doing.’

Wandera stood up and scurried out of my room, knocking over my plastic bin and leaving all the jackets hanging on my door hook down. Now I am not an expert at reading people. I hardly noticed anything out of the ordinary when I was talking to Wandera. The guy has a stone face devoid of much emotion, except when he smiled, which was rare because he was self-conscious about his missing front four upper teeth. Nonetheless, I did notice that he was too jittery while getting out of my room. Watching him squirrel out, I was absolutely sure he knew more about Kevin’s murder than he was letting on. I mean nothing happened in Hannah Hostel that Wandera never knew about. Matter of fact, there had been rumours that he was the source of all the dirt Kevin knew about people. I dialled Katumba’s number. He picked up on the first ring.

‘Hey, where are you, we need to talk,’ I said.

‘In my room, come over.’

I picked my black denim jacket from the pile of jackets on the floor and hurried to Andama Hostel, which was only a hundred meters from Hannah Hostel.

‘Good afternoon,’ I greeted the security guys but they didn’t reply. Hassan, who usually smiled and chatted me up, refused to take my ID. Baraka said something to him in Gisu, then took my student’s ID. He turned the Andama Hostel visitor’s book over for me to sign in. I wrote my names, what time it was, and ended with my signature. I could feel Hassan and Baraka glaring at me.

‘Thank you,' I smiled and walked away. Hassan and Baraka started chatting in Gisu when I turned the corner up the stairs. I could tell it was about me but I didn’t pay it much attention. I ran up the stairs to the fourth floor. I couldn’t wait to get to Katumba’s room.

‘Left, right,’ I reminded myself on the fourth-floor landing, then turned left. It was easy for me to get lost in Andama Hostel corridors if I wasn’t careful enough. Andama Hostel is a fortress and the biggest hostel on Kagugube road. In comparison, Hannah Hostel is the smallest. It took a lot of thought for me to get around Andama Hostel. Unfortunately, room numbers were of no help since they had faded off most of the doors long before Katumba and I were ever residents of Kagugube road.

As I walked towards Katumba’s room, Katumba came out, his attention on his phone. He looked up and we locked eyes, then we walked faster toward each other. Katumba continued past me and I turned to follow him. We stopped at the staircase landing and stood opposite each other, Katumba on the railing end and me leaning on the wall. That’s when I noticed Katumba was shaking a little. His whole body was anxious and his eyes filled with fear. 

‘What’s going on?’ I asked. People’s steps sounded from Katumba’s corridor. We quieted and listened to them approach us. The faces weren’t familiar; they walked past us to the adjoining corridor. Katumba kept his eyes on the floor while nervously gripping and un-gripping the railing. When the steps were out of earshot, we looked at each other. Katumba looked scared. A little fear crept into me too. 

‘Aaah, Agaba and Linda got back right after our call so we can’t talk from my room. Agaba said there is a rumour going around in MUK that somebody saw us argue with Kevin at the back of the hostel that Sunday evening.’

My mind stilled. Then it ran wild. Who started this rumour, did this mean we are now primary suspects in Kevin’s murder, is this why Hassan was rude to me earlier, is this what Hassan and Baraka were arguing about, would anyone truly believe I killed someone, but that can’t be, no one could possibly believe Katumba and I killed anyone, fuck, this is insane!

A group of four friends came up the stairs, three girls and a boy; I only noticed them when they were a few steps from us. They each peered briefly at us and continued on their way, turning right at the landing. My heart was beating really fast and I started feeling dizzy.

‘I need to sit down,’ I said.

‘Let’s go to my room. We’ll talk when Agaba and Linda go for their afternoon lectures,’ said Katumba.

‘That shit can’t be true,’ we found Agaba, Katumba's roommate, saying to Linda, his girlfriend. The room went numb when we entered.

‘Tsup guys,’ I said.

‘Tsup,’ the couple replied.

I followed Katumba to the balcony.

'Who did you hear it from first?' Linda whispered to Agaba.

‘Why are you whispering?’ Agaba asked Linda, sounding irritated.

‘I’m not whispering,’ Linda retorted in a whisper.

On the balcony, Katumba and I stood at opposite ends and looked at each other, lost in thought. It was frightening to think that people could be speculating about us being Kevin’s killers. I had never been in any grave kind of trouble, mostly because I have a baby face and people assume I can do no harm. But here I was contemplating the fact that people were considering me a killer. A 19-year-old baby-faced killer. Actually, two 19-year-old baby-faced killers!

‘Let’s go to the rooftop,’ Katumba broke through my internal monologue. I avoided looking at either Agaba or Linda as we walked out of the room. 

‘You had something to tell me when you called!' said Katumba as we settled on two plastic chairs on the roof, facing one another. 

‘I think Wandera knows what happened to Kevin.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘No, but I asked him about my suitcase earlier and he was too nervous. Besides, when has he ever not known anything that went on at Hannah Hostel? I’m telling you he knows something.’

‘Well, then we need to find out what he knows. Did he tell you who bought the suitcase?’

‘He says he sold it to Bossa. He told me he would find out whether or not it’s still there.’

‘Bossa is a friend; I’ll ask him about it.’

‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea!’

‘I don’t think he will think much of it. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to give him any details.’

‘Well, okay. I hope it works out.’

My phone was buzzing non-stop in my jacket. I pulled it out and put it in aeroplane mode.

‘Fuck this shit man,’ Katumba lamented. 

#

My way back to Hannah Hostel was probably the scariest I've ever felt in my life. Everyone, and I mean everyone was watching me. I stopped to get a rolex at Mbire's stand, it was almost dark and I hadn't eaten anything all day long. Mbire grinned at me when he saw me coming his way.

'Osibye otya lero Ester,' Mbire greeted me, turning a chapati over on the other side of his pan.

'Sigamba, biri bitya wano,' I replied.

'Owaye, Kagugube nga bwomumanyi, people talk and talk.' Mbire stirred eggs in a green plastic cup. I didn't reply, I merely watched his hands work.

As he poured the eggs onto the pan, my mind drifted to the night Kevin died.

Katumba and I were kissing when we heard someone cough behind us. Immediately, we let each other go and turned to find Kevin smirking, looking like the devil's advocate.

The sound of my name jogged me out of this daydream. It was Mbire calling. His arm stretched towards me, handing me my rolex. 'Neyaninza,' I thanked him, picking the white paper bag from him. I crossed the road and went through the Hannah Hostel gates. It took a lot of effort not to break into a run. 

Penina's harrier was in the parking lot.

I opened my door to find Penina and Mutabaazi arguing. Whatever they were saying came to an abrupt halt when I entered the room.

'We didn't do it,' I blurted out, assuming whatever they were arguing about had something to do with the rumours. They both stared at me silently, visibly confused.

'I had nothing to do with Kevin's death,' I repeated. I was a scared kitty; I desperately needed my friends to believe in my innocence. Penina eyed Mutaabazi, then turned her head towards me.

'What makes you think we think you had something to do with Kevin's death,' asked Penina, seeming quite amused.

'Everyone is talking about it.'

Penina and Mutabaazi eyed each other again.

'There is a video of you and Katumba making out at the back of the hostel,' said Penina, playing the video and handing me her phone.

'This is not happening,' a voice in my head cried. The video was too dark, but no doubt the people kissing were Katumba and me. I grunted, went over to my bed and shrieked into my pillow. I wanted to sleep. I badly wanted to sleep and wake up after this nightmare was over.

'Katumba and I are not brother and sister,' I announced, sitting up.

'What?' Penina and Mutabaazi exclaimed in unison.

'What?' Mutabaazi repeated. 'But you look alike!'

'Yeah exactly, everybody just assumed we are siblings and we never corrected them. I mean all through high school people never really believed we were just friends so being thought of as siblings around here was kind of nice.'

'Mmmh, how has that worked out for you?' said Penina.

Mutabaazi giggled. 'Not brother and sister! Fuck me. Ha hah hahaha, this is so weird. Isn't Katumba in a relationship?' said Mutabaazi.

'That's none of your business,' I barked.

'You know, I get it. But I still don't get it. You guys are not related! How does that happen? You practically look like twins,' said Penina.

'Yeah well, we are not.'

'This is the most insane thing ever!' Penina shook her head. 'But damned Essie, everybody has seen this video. It's pretty suspicious you know. We now know that you and Katumba are not related.' She gestured at herself and Mutabaazi. 'But everybody else sees it as a brother and sister who get funky on the low. I mean that's what I thought, and you know how fast rumours spread in Kagugube.'

'You don't think people would assume that would be a cause for Katumba and me to harm Kevin!'

'You tell me, look at it from everybody else's perspective. Everyone knows Kevin was nosy AF. He knew almost everybody's dirty little secret on Kagugube and he was never afraid to spit them out when it suited him. So two people presumed to be siblings passionately kissing at the same place Kevin died. And the rumour about you guys arguing with him that night. Well, you fill in the blanks.'

'But we didn't do it,' I cried, falling back on my bed.

'Are you sure!' said Mutabaazi in a condescending tone.

'Yes I'm sure,' I snarled, sitting up again. 'I mean we did fight with him that night but he was alive when we left.'

Penina and Mutabaazi exchanged glances.

'What do you mean you fought?' asked Penina.

'I can't tell you,' I mumbled. 'Fuck, I shouldn't have said anything.'

'Look. Kevin was my best friend. I want to know what happened to him. Now you better convince me you had nothing to do with it,’ said Mutabaazi.

'Sit down,' Penina told Mutabaazi with authority. He folded his hands and leaned on my side of the closet. 'Tell us what happened Essie,' said Penina.

'Promise me you are going to help me find out who killed Kevin.'

'We'll help,' said Penina.

'No, you first convince us you had nothing...'

'Calm the fuck down,' Penina cut off Mutabaazi.

'Do you think we did it?' I asked Penina.

'No, not at all,' she said. Now tell me what happened that night.

'Well, considering this involves Katumba, I think he should be here.'

'Yeah, of course, call him.' 

#

Saturday, 19 March 2016

I couldn't tell whether Constable Odong was staring at me or not. It was hard to tell with his crossed eyes, which made me more anxious than I already was. I shifted in my chair; it felt like I had been sitting there for days.

Looking at the twelve-hour clock on the table in front of me, it was only forty-six past four. I had been seated for only ten minutes. I had told Constable Odong everything I could but he wanted to know more than I could offer.

'Do you know who might have taken this video?' he asked.

'No,' I said.

My heart was beating quicker than the breaths I was taking, my palms were sweating, and my butt was on fire. My instinct was to run out of that office, away from Constable Odong’s strong perfume, which filled that hot box of a police station. 'Run,' my mind screamed. But my body was glued to the chair. 

#

‘How was your interview?’ Katumba asked as I lit our fifth joint in three hours. I had come to Katumba’s three hours before, after my interview with the police. We had lit a blunt, fucked, then lay in bed naked smoking without saying a word until now. ‘Horrible is an understatement,’ I said. Katumba passed me the leading waragi bottle. I sat up a little, took a huge gallop, and squinted as it went down my throat.

‘Let’s go out tonight,’ said Katumba. He stood up and walked to the bathroom.

I watched Katumba's naked butt as I ashed the joint on our designated ashtray, a white melamine plate with a crack through the middle.

‘Yeah, we need to get out,’ I said.

The shower was cold. Katumba was warm inside me.

We decided to rendezvous at my place. I needed to change clothes. A knock on my door sounded as I reeled drunkenly into my black damaged pants. The effects of the four leading waragi bottles Katumba and I had shared in four hours had started to show. But it was only the beginning, Katumba was buying one more bottle for the road while I got ready for our night out. I belched then shouted, 'come in,’ expecting Katumba. ‘Fuck,’ I breathed, my leg had gone through the ripped part on the knees of the damaged pants. ‘Fuck.’ I looked up to see Wandera close my door behind him. I let go of my pants and quickly picked up the towel on my bed to cover my chest, but Wandera had already glimpsed my bare breasts. He didn’t flinch or even try to get out when he saw me.

‘Bossa sold the case,’ Wandera announced. ‘He doesn’t remember who bought it.’ We stared at each other in silence. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck, Wandera has seen me naked,' my drunken mind grumbled. Wandera then sat on Penina’s bed. He looked weary. Like he hadn’t slept in days. And he was much smaller than I remembered. I wasn’t sure whether it was me or him who reeked of alcohol.

Wandera looked at the door, it was still slightly ajar. He then scanned my room and looked past me to a spot in the corner behind me, where my laundry basket was situated, next to the window. ‘Mutabaazi and Penina killed Kevin,’ said Wandera, eyes glued to the spot behind me. Goosebumps erupted on my arms and chest. I knew I had heard him right, but I still wasn’t sure that I had heard him right. I turned to look at the corner spot his eyes were focused on. There was nothing of interest there, except Wandera looked like he was staring at someone or something only he could see.

‘When you and Katumba were kissing, I was watching. I had seen you go to the back and I called Kevin to come spy on you guys. I had told him before you are lovers but he never believed me. I wanted him to see for himself,' Wandera rumbled like a possessed man, his eyes still focused on the spot behind me. 'Era he’s the one who took that video of you two, he used my phone. When you guys started beating him I called Mutaabazi to help but he ordered me to close the backyard door and he started kicking Kevin too. I tried to pull him away but he was so much stronger than me. He only stopped kicking Kevin to make a call. Next thing I know Penina is there too and she’s kicking Kevin while taking a video,’ Wandera sobbed. ‘Bambi nsonyiwa,’ he got on his knees and begged for forgiveness from the spot on the wall behind me. I looked back and the spot was empty. The thought of Kevin's ghost in my room sneaked into my mind and I shook my head to get rid of it. 'It can't be,' I convinced myself. I don't believe in that kind of stuff but I knew Wandera did.

I walked to my door and pushed it shut. Then faced Wandera, sober as the full moon. ‘And my suitcase!' I asked him.

‘Kevin bought that suitcase, he loved you. He had instructed me to bring him whatever you were selling. He always bought anything you put up for sale. Mutabaazi is the one who got the suitcase from their room after killing Kevin. They talked about it with Penina. I’m not sure what they said.’

'What about that video of me and Katumba kissing?' I had so many questions.

'That was Penina's doing. She forced me to tell her what happened between you guys and Kevin. She said they would kill me too.' Wandera wailed like a child who had just been spanked.

‘So Penina posted the video!’

‘Yes’

‘She got it from you?’

‘Yes.’ 

As I struggled to make sense of what I was hearing, two knocks sounded on my door, and then it slid open, brushing over the length of my arm. Katumba stepped in, ‘what’s going on?’ he asked, his eyes taking in the scene before him. Me in a towel, Wandera on my bed, whole body shaking as he wailed silently. Wandera mumbled bits of the story through spit and tears. And I wearily filled in the blanks.

#

As the cold wind filled my lungs, Katumba and I held each other dearly. His pulse was raging in my hand; tears fell down my eyes. I felt so tired, not even Katumba’s embrace was comforting on that boda ride. It felt like it was the last boda I would ever take. The last time I would embrace my best friend. The last time I would be moving through Wandegeya on a Saturday night. I wanted it to be the last time of everything. I was struggling to breathe holding back screams that threatened to rip my throat apart.

The unspoken plan between Katumba and me was to get really fucked up. We had no money, but we were going to crash a birthday party. There were always birthday parties at The Game Club on Saturdays. And they always had tap water drinks.

On entering The Game Club, we scouted the place. I was not focusing on anything in particular.

‘Wait here,’ said Katumba. I didn’t see him go but I spotted him coming back, two Nile Specials in each hand. I smiled. He smiled.

‘That was the quickest you’ve ever done it,’ I said. I settled on a stool next to the kitchen, Katumba handed me one beer and rested the other two under the stool.

‘I got the beers from that table,’ he pointed to a crowd near the DJ's booth.

‘Cheers to them,’ I said.

‘Cheers,’ we chorused and tossed.

We drank in silence, watching people dance, talk, and drink. I still couldn't believe Penina would do that to me. She was the coldest person I knew but she had always been sweet towards me and had always taken care of me like her little sister. She was always my call when I was drunk and alone and needed to get out of a place. She always picked me up.

A crate of beers was carried past us to the birthday near the DJ's booth. ‘Let me go get more beers.’ Katumba matched a step behind the waiter carrying the crate of beers.

Before I saw her face, I smelled her perfume and heard her voice.

‘Heeey, you’re here too.’ It was Penina. She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me lovingly.

‘These same hands stuffed Kevin’s body in a suitcase,’ I thought.

‘Tsup,’ Mutabaazi nodded at me. I tried to think back to when I first saw Penina and Mutabaazi together. They hadn’t always been so close, especially since Penina hated Kevin’s guts and Kevin was Mutabaazi’s best friend and roommate. Their relationship didn’t make sense to me at that moment.

Penina kept talking to me, but I blocked her voice out. I wanted to vomit. Her act turned my stomach upside down and I couldn’t rid the image of Kevin in that suitcase from my head.

‘Are you here alone?' Mutabaazi asked me. ‘Where’s Katumba?’

I didn’t have to answer because Katumba appeared. He was empty-handed. He had probably spotted them and come back right away. Katumba motioned for us to leave and I followed him away from Penina and Mutabaazi. Outside, we walked in the direction of Valhalla Club. It’s right next to The Game Club.

‘Hey,’ Mutabaazi called behind us.

I think Mutabaazi pulled at Katumba’s arm or shirt, I am not sure. Katumba turned and punched him in the face. As Penina quickened her pace towards us the boys wrestled on the ground. By the time they were pulled apart they both had bleeding noses. The police appeared too, throwing them both in their truck and driving away.

Penina and I walked to Wandegeya Police station, hoping to get them out.

‘What happened?’ Penina asked. Not once, not twice, not thrice, four times. I ignored her and kept my eyes on the road in front of me. I could feel her eyes pierce into me as she walked beside me. I was scared of her. I had a nagging feeling she had figured it out. To think before all this I had loved her like my big sister.

Penina paid one hundred thousand shillings to get the boys out.

‘You better not tell anyone,’ Mutabaazi pushed Katumba as they walked through the police door to meet us outside.

‘Alo you want to sleep in a cell tonight,’ a police officer shouted our way from the counter.

Katumba and I crossed the road and walked in the direction leading back to the hostel. Penina and Mutabaazi watched us go. I turned back to see them head towards The Game Club. We picked up two more bottles of leading waragi in Wandegeya, spending our boda money back to the hostel.

We walked in silence. Katumba was clenching his teeth, fuming with fury; I took his hand in mine to calm him down.

As we neared Ham Towers I peered behind me, only to see Penina’s harrier approaching us. Penina waved and honked at us to stop, we continued walking.

‘Get in the car,’ she shouted as we passed Tuskys Supermarket and turned the corner to head downhill Gadaffi road. 

‘They know we know!’ said Katumba. ‘It kinda came out of me when I was fighting Mutabaazi, I’m sorry.’ My heart jumped and I squeezed Katumba’s hand hard fearfully.

Katumba and I crossed the road and continued downhill. I looked back again and Penina had stopped at the red light on Gadaffi road junction.

The sound of the car came first. It was frighteningly fast, almost flying. I turned my head in time to see Penina's harrier speeding towards us. Katumba pushed me into the trench and I landed head first on the edge of the concrete pipe. 

#

My mouth was dry, that was the first thing I noticed when I came to. My right hand was in a cast, which was the second thing I noticed. I was in a hospital, that was the third thing I noticed.

‘Your friend died.’ That was the first sentence I clearly heard from my mum. She was seated at my bedside, holding my hand. ‘They said it was a hit and run.’


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