​THE BOTTLE OF PAIN

The sound of his motorcycle engine rented the premises. One could see the curtains even tremble a little as if that which scares curtains had just arrived. Or what do you think curtains can be afraid of mjango? They cannot be afraid of ghosts or being stripped and forced to walk naked on the streets like we humans fear. I think they are afraid of replacement. In fact, that is a natural fear among the living and the non-living. We get paranoid when we dare to imagine that someone or something better than us can show up and we are rendered useless all of a sudden. For example, you young lady, you fear letting him or even seeing him hanging around other girls because he may discover one that is better than you. Well, she may not be better than you in your own eyes, Katutu feel tagged, hehe. But she may be better than you in his eyes! And what can you do about that? Abso-freaking-lutely nothing! It is only when you retreat from the scenes of his life that he may realize, quite painfully this time, of what value you were to him. Just like the curtains, you will replace them but one day, you will miss the one unique value they had. 
But someone should have gone to reassure the curtains in Joey’s house that they were not being replaced. Not today. So they should keep their calm and wiggle and wave at the latest visitor to the alcohol addiction recovery group. No not the mjango in a maroon uniform and a belly like Papa Shirandula who is now shutting the gate. That’s the watchman you silly curtains! The guy who is now parking a red Yamaha R1M motorcycle, commonly known as a speed bike. Ask him and he will tell you that its engine is capable of a 165 horsepower. Ask him again and he will say that it is capable of reaching 96 kilometers per hour in 3 seconds. Oh ye curtains, that’s enough reason to wiggle and wave. You can even jiggle jiggle after you see his face when he draws his helmet. He has a chocolate complexion and a haircut like Kanye West’s. He has that kind of a face that never stops looking like he is posing for a photo for an Instagram post. And lastly, curtains, don’t know whether you will wave and jiggle at this but ask him why he is here. He will say though not so quick, that he is an alcohol addict. He wants to recover.
Joey, the lead organizer of the alcohol addiction recovery group stands at the door to welcome her newest member to the group. She is 38 years and she’s not they type of lady that doesn’t like saying her age. 
“Malcom, right?” Joey asks as she stretches her hand.
He stretches his hand and meets her hand for a brief shake and says, “Yes. Malcom Gitau. And you must be Joey.”
“Indeed. It’s a pleasure and welcome.” She says and gestures with her hand to usher him in.
This is quite different compared to what he expected of recovery groups he has been seeing in movies. No metallic foldable chairs arranged in a circle in a hall. He takes a seat on an empty space on one of the big couches. Everyone is now silently looking at him because he is a new comer and they think he looks like Kanye West. Even mjangos who look like Kanye West can be alcohol addicts. At the same time, Malcom looks around and sees all kinds of people. His attention is sold to one lady seated directly opposite. Say she is another version of Zari, or even better, maybe. Light in complexion, quite voluptuous, she is in a black dress and pink high heels with straps circling her hairless legs, definitely has make up on and a weave and she doesn’t look at anyone or anything else but her phone. Everyone else switches to small talk but she is contented by the company of her phone. He finds himself thinking about how such a jewel like her would be addicted to alcohol. 
“Okay everyone.” Joey says aloud. The room goes silent. She is standing at the central far end where everybody can see her. “Thank you for your loyal attendance to those who have been here. Allow me to give a chance to our newest member to introduce himself and tell us his story. Are you guys okay with that?”
People say yes. A guy who looks like he’s in his forties says, “Especially because he is a rider. We definitely wanna hear that.” A few people giggle.
“And he also looks like Kanye West,” a young gun probably still in campus says and everyone bursts into laughter while nodding their heads saying, “By the way.” Other mjangos just say ‘Bytha.’ Now what is Bytha?
“Well before he begins, it’s formal to let him know that I have been running this recovery group for five years now. This is the 34th group I’m running.” Joey turns and looks at Malcom. “You have a right to share and withhold any information in your story. Tell us what you can and we have all shared our stories at some point. So welcome.” She takes a seat.
Malcom clears his throat and begins. “Hello everyone?” They all say hi. 
“My name is Malcom, Malcom Gitau. Please note I have only said two names and not three. You might think I have two similar names like Miguna Miguna” People chuckle. “I am a campus drop out and entrepreneur. I dropped out of university to do business. I am good in selling things, it’s a strength I have. I have sold almost everything that you can think brings in good money. Cars, bikes, houses, merchandise from other countries that I am not at liberty to say. And there was a very low time in my life where I had to sell drugs and porn. Now don’t get excited just yet because I don’t sell that shit anymore, in case any of you is a customer of such.”
“And he has a sense of humor too,” The guy in his forties says and everybody laughs. Malcom later gets to know that his name is Lucas. He brings out fun in almost everything, which to him is a good thing.
“So yea. By the way I am 25 years old, only for those who are interested in knowing.” He smiles hilariously as others laugh to that. He particularly looks at the chic opposite him. She mildly smiled away as if she knew that that remark was targeted on the ladies and maybe herself. No room for doubt eh.
“The only thing I have never sold is alcohol.” He went silent for a while. “I have been an alcohol addict for nine years now. This is the first time I am publicly admitting it.”
You could hear the mild exclamations from a few individuals. An indicator that they feel that his case is worse than theirs or they feel he should thank the Lord that he has only been in it for nine years. 
“How come you have never sold booze?” A woman to his extreme right asks. She has a handkerchief that doesn’t leave her hand because she has a flu. She excuses herself from time to time to attend to the matters of the nose. 
“Well, because I was addicted to an extent booze boosted my performance and wellbeing. It was like my medicine that my life depended on so I had uttermost respect for the bottle. Like I was addicted and I loved it and wouldn’t want to do anything that parts me with booze. That included the mere act of selling it. I don’t know whether you guys feel me.”
“We share the same devil, so we have to feel you.” Lucas says. There is a short chain of laughter then silence.
“Wait, there is something I find interesting,” the young gun he would later know as Kelvin says, “You are 25 yet you have been an addict for nine years. That means you have been an addict since you were a minor?”
Malcom could see mjangos shaking their heads. 
“Yes, I had my first beer when I was 16. Actually it was during Christmas. I was chilling with my cousins. I don’t know how but since then I became an easy prey to the demon behind the bottle. I used to sneak out of school with some friends at night. As they went to the neighboring girls’ school I went to the local market to buy booze. I used to stock them for the entire week until the next time I would get a chance to sneak out again. And every week was a must. In case you’re wondering where I got the money from, I used to have a dealer in the local market who got me all I wanted. So my schoolmates used to order anything they’d want from outside school and I’d get them in two weeks. Trust me they paid massively! And just so you know, I still never sold my booze.”
“We are waiting for the part you got caught one day,” Lucas says then people laugh. Malcom looks at Joey and she is laughing too. She must have figured he wants to know whether to continue and so she signaled him to proceed. 
He first chuckled then said, “Yes and no. I was wise not to let anyone into my plans because that increases the chances of getting caught. So when the fortieth day came, those guys who used to sneak to the girls’ school got caught. I was not among them. I sneaked back to school that night only to hear that there was a case going on in the staffroom at 2.30AM in the morning. I hid the merchandise and just when I got to bed to sleep, almost the entire school administration even with some policemen stormed into the dorm looking for whoever was not present. I didn’t sneak out for the rest of the term. In form four I was caught by a night guard but those were the only times I parted with the bottle. We made a deal he’d keep it covers as long as I split my merchandise with him. I am one person who has managed to keep my addiction a secret. Nobody in high school has ever known I was not only functioning courtesy of the blood in my veins but alcohol as well.”
“What about the night guard?” A lady with a tattoo sticking out of her cleavage asks. 
“He never cared to know whether I drunk or not. He even kept on saying he was the addict. I knew all about him but he didn’t know anything about me.”
“Smart!” Kelvin says.
Malcolm says, “But keeping it a secret has done me no good over the years. I cannot maintain serious relationships because of this. I do so much for other people through the money that I make but I am unable to do much for myself because most of it goes to drinking. And this is a confession that’s very personal. I went through a very serious break up three months ago, one that made me dive even deeper into the ocean of booze because,” He pauses. Everyone cringes because they can tell that this is the emotional part of the story. No one wants to make direct eye contact as a sign of empathy. It also helps someone not to cry. Notice when you feel like crying and people are looking directly at you, oh you will cry a river. He proceeds, “Because she could not put up with my alcoholism. I had started hating the fact that she was trying to help me part ways with who I have always been. She was saying it was affecting our relationship, and so she quit. Especially because I refused to accept any help even from the expert she kept telling me about. And that is none other than Joey here.”
To be continued mjango!