Worst run ever – the September run
They say August is the bad month in Kenya, but I have proved otherwise. Anyway, that August thing is a hype that I have never believed in. There are some phone calls that you dread. I got one of those two years ago one early July morning, July 6, 2012 to be exact, when my dad passed on. That is usually the ultimate one, so no other call can surpass that, right?
“The house has burnt,” that was on a Monday morning. I know it was a Monday, since I had started by going to a lawyer’s place at Westlands early morning, to sign some university loan forms for a student. I was back to office by 9.00am. It was September 8.
“Pardon”
“The house has burnt. Am standing next to it.”
My head was in a spin.
Three weeks later, I was set to meet the landlord of the burnt house to start discussing investigative findings and hence liability. The circumstances remained mysterious. A locked house and an explosion, according to first responders, then a fire!? In a dwelling that we have stayed in for 3 years?
I did the Ndakaini marathon on September 13 with these exact questions still lingering in my mind. I had the same questions when I finally landed in the city of Kisumu ready to discuss the matter with the landlord.
How do you react when you visit a new dwelling and the neighbor introduces herself as, “… born again”. Is that supposed to send a message?
That aside, I now had to face the landlord and find out once and for all if the month of September would live up to its billing.
“You know that internal damage is the preserve of the tenant, don’t you,” the landlord started.
We were inspecting the burnt house. For the first time I was looking at the damage. I could say that it was good that the fire happened when no one was in the house, about 9.00am. It is said that the landlord’s family who stay in the adjacent house heard an explosion and on investigation, found the house on fire, actually, the bedroom part of the house.
My inspection now told me why they heard the explosion. That must have been the glassware and chemicals (spray cans and assorted beauty things) on the wardroom. The wardroom was completely damaged, same to the ceiling of the whole bedroom. Electric fault had been ruled out, since none of the electrical systems caught fire – not even the wires that connect to the switches or sockets. There was no power failure in the last 24-hours to the fire, hence no chance that a candle had been used in that period to have been left burning. It could not have been gas, since the fire did not touch the kitchen where the gas was kept.
“It could have been worse,” I comment, more in shock than conversation.
The neighbours and artisans that are participating in the construction boom at this Kisumu East estate were the first responders. They had broken the bedroom windows and even removed a few iron sheets from the roof, on the bedroom location on this bungalow.
“Can you believe that they had to even break the main door when madam came back and tried to open the door without success?,” the landlord commented.
I looked at him puzzled.
“Look at this lower bolt,” he said, pointing at the still affixed bolt on the lower part of one half of the metallic door.
“Coincidentally, this bolt was fixed in place, despite it being virtually impossible to do that if you are locking from outside as one leaves, the way mwalimu had locked as she left”
That was a puzzling realization. What really happened?
“The repairs shall be about 50,000,” he said, as a matter of fact, some minutes into the inspection. I know what he meant. He was slapping me with liability and I was expected to make good. I had just spent another 35k for new house charges, and almost said as much, but did not. My mind was wondering.
“It could have been worse,” I did not realize that I had repeated this. But this was true. We could be talking about the house plus the landlords. We could be talking about the block plus the neighbouring houses, and the way they have crammed houses in this estate? Houses literally touch each other. Forget parking space if you live in Lolwe. It could have been worse – if this happened at night! It could have been worse – if I was looking at more expensive damage.
In one day's time I shall be starting my October runs. I would like to forget September in a hurry. After all…
It could have been worse!
Barack Wamkaya Wanjawa, Kisumu, Kenya, September 29, 2014
They say August is the bad month in Kenya, but I have proved otherwise. Anyway, that August thing is a hype that I have never believed in. There are some phone calls that you dread. I got one of those two years ago one early July morning, July 6, 2012 to be exact, when my dad passed on. That is usually the ultimate one, so no other call can surpass that, right?
“The house has burnt,” that was on a Monday morning. I know it was a Monday, since I had started by going to a lawyer’s place at Westlands early morning, to sign some university loan forms for a student. I was back to office by 9.00am. It was September 8.
“Pardon”
“The house has burnt. Am standing next to it.”
My head was in a spin.
Three weeks later, I was set to meet the landlord of the burnt house to start discussing investigative findings and hence liability. The circumstances remained mysterious. A locked house and an explosion, according to first responders, then a fire!? In a dwelling that we have stayed in for 3 years?
I did the Ndakaini marathon on September 13 with these exact questions still lingering in my mind. I had the same questions when I finally landed in the city of Kisumu ready to discuss the matter with the landlord.
How do you react when you visit a new dwelling and the neighbor introduces herself as, “… born again”. Is that supposed to send a message?
That aside, I now had to face the landlord and find out once and for all if the month of September would live up to its billing.
“You know that internal damage is the preserve of the tenant, don’t you,” the landlord started.
We were inspecting the burnt house. For the first time I was looking at the damage. I could say that it was good that the fire happened when no one was in the house, about 9.00am. It is said that the landlord’s family who stay in the adjacent house heard an explosion and on investigation, found the house on fire, actually, the bedroom part of the house.
My inspection now told me why they heard the explosion. That must have been the glassware and chemicals (spray cans and assorted beauty things) on the wardroom. The wardroom was completely damaged, same to the ceiling of the whole bedroom. Electric fault had been ruled out, since none of the electrical systems caught fire – not even the wires that connect to the switches or sockets. There was no power failure in the last 24-hours to the fire, hence no chance that a candle had been used in that period to have been left burning. It could not have been gas, since the fire did not touch the kitchen where the gas was kept.
“It could have been worse,” I comment, more in shock than conversation.
The neighbours and artisans that are participating in the construction boom at this Kisumu East estate were the first responders. They had broken the bedroom windows and even removed a few iron sheets from the roof, on the bedroom location on this bungalow.
“Can you believe that they had to even break the main door when madam came back and tried to open the door without success?,” the landlord commented.
I looked at him puzzled.
“Look at this lower bolt,” he said, pointing at the still affixed bolt on the lower part of one half of the metallic door.
“Coincidentally, this bolt was fixed in place, despite it being virtually impossible to do that if you are locking from outside as one leaves, the way mwalimu had locked as she left”
That was a puzzling realization. What really happened?
“The repairs shall be about 50,000,” he said, as a matter of fact, some minutes into the inspection. I know what he meant. He was slapping me with liability and I was expected to make good. I had just spent another 35k for new house charges, and almost said as much, but did not. My mind was wondering.
“It could have been worse,” I did not realize that I had repeated this. But this was true. We could be talking about the house plus the landlords. We could be talking about the block plus the neighbouring houses, and the way they have crammed houses in this estate? Houses literally touch each other. Forget parking space if you live in Lolwe. It could have been worse – if this happened at night! It could have been worse – if I was looking at more expensive damage.
In one day's time I shall be starting my October runs. I would like to forget September in a hurry. After all…
It could have been worse!
Barack Wamkaya Wanjawa, Kisumu, Kenya, September 29, 2014
