THE VILLAGE TAVERN (Part 2)

So now, welcome Gitobu, owner of thousands of acres of land, countless heads of cattle, pampered by ten wives and in return a multitude of young ones who he sufficiently knows by name and even character...one more thing, chairman at the tavern, owner of the golden beer mug, faithful client who certainly leaves last at ‘Kwa Munyui’ that leaves the villagers wondering if it is loyalty to the owner or to the commodity served. Worth mentioning, rather noting is that he is quite the miser, despite all that wealth. You know the thin line between living a simple life and trying to live poverty as a way of offering up the pleasures of life, he is beyond either. 

He wears Nchabung’a (traditional Akala sandals as said in Kimeru), shaves his hair twice a year(Christmas and his first child’s birthday) , refuses to build a wooden house, buys only two sets of clothes for the wives(one for special occasions and Sundays, and the other for normal daily bustling) and fewer others for the children to share. However, for the daily drink, he pours wads from his pockets, fresh from the returns of his farming activity. The irony. Perhaps the addiction. Then like all drunks on the first day of the year, the resolution is, ‘I shall not let the liquid get past my lips...from tomorrow!’

Being a daily client, companionship with fellow members grows to be mandatory. These so called social drinkers like to sit with each other, indulge in excess measure and very much boast of their latest developments, not forgetting the politics and even whisper a little village gossip. His closest is called Kithinji. Gitobu laughs sporadically, most of the time stern and some of the time responding with a nod or a shrug. Once the beer greets the blood in two shakes and proceeds to his mental nerves, he bangs the mug and declares, ‘I dislike uneducated people, apart from myself!’ Mind you, barely any villagers sitting in that tavern have pursued significant tiers of education. The air always lurches into a disturbing silence when he says that. Some tend to walk out while others look away in ignorance. Gitobu has spoken.

By and by, year after year, things remain the same at the tavern. However, one rainy season, Kithinji is taken ill. He has trouble with his throat and cannot speak. The herbalist tries all she can, so does the medicine man, the wizard too. Further treatment has to be sought in the city where he is diagnosed with a damaged throat traced to alcohol. He gets a speech aid gadget and returns after two weeks. Gitobu is extremely devastated. He is barely spotted at the tavern.  He only stops by intermittently and leaves just as soon. Life takes a turn and you can quite figure out why. Nevertheless, his wives are happier and he plays more with his children. He is working on constructing a bigger house, this time out of wood and a little concrete for the floor. Better still, every evening, he lights a torch of fire and goes to see Kithinji who hails from the other hill. 

The tavern, well, it still serves the regulars, but the service ends earlier.