Well, like I had promised, I will continue to tell you about this young man, my housemate and I volunteered to bring out of the village into the city, in form of a house help (houseboy sounds rude) but his mischievous ways are lately getting on our nerves.
He really does his thing (chores) so well, save for the ‘kugavura’ (buying less than the money we give him so he can keep the balance) like I had told you in the last episode, thanks to the advice passed on by the more experienced neighbour’s house girl.
He mastered the art so well that he has now become a consultant of all house helps ‘Muri Karitsiye’ (in the neighbourhood). When we are all away for work, they all converge in our little sitting room to discuss how they can maximise savings on every commodity they are sent to buy by deducting a certain percentage.
“It doesn’t matter if it is a coin of Rwf 10 from every kilo of food, at the end of the month it is about Rwf 300 and then multiply by, say 4 kilos you buy on a daily basis, that makes it Rwf 1200 monthly, is that a bad deal?” So he was telling his attentive colleagues in the profession.
I had just made an impromptu return home when I landed in the group discussion. There he was feeling the Boss (He is huge by the way), the darling to all the house girls, a celebrity of sorts, yapping away.
Suddenly boom, there I was, he looked at me, very shocked and asked me why I had decided to return home earlier than my usual time (11pm). It is as if I owed him an explanation.
Perplexed, I told him I had forgotten something and I had to return. Meanwhile, the other Karyarugo’s (no pun intended) were sifting between my legs, running out one by one.
You know they say when the head of the house is not around, frogs climb the house but when he returns, they scamper for dear life (loosely translated from an old Kinyarwanda proverb), that’s what was happening. So there we were, the two of us.
I faked a very tough face (noticing his protruding muscles in the small vest he was wearing, I swear he could punch you like Tyson) and warned him never to convene the same meeting in the same house as it is not a conference facility or else he gets fired. He adamantly accepted.
Off I went back to work but then again decided to come back unannounced in the evening, only to find the house locked (even the neighbour’s was locked). I had forgotten my key and therefore had to knock, just in case he was inside.
After several knocks and bangs, he decided to come and open and then probably punch whoever was disturbing the peace (or the activity). Of course he was sure none of us comes back at 5pm in the evening.
He knew it was someone from the outside world (or one of the neighbouring house helps seeking his counsel), so he came and opened the door rudely asking whoever it was and whatever they wanted, to keep off or they got punched.
As the door went ajar, there he was in his boxer shorts, bare-chested and wearing the meanest of faces, only to notice it was me. So he faked a quick smile and again asked me why I had to come home early again (I swear this guy thinks he is the boss).
I grinned and told him to back-off (I was now trying to feel a boss) and that I don’t owe him an explanation neither do I owe the landlady one because I pay the rent with my hard-earned cash and can therefore come in at any time of the day (or night) without asking anyone permission or putting it in writing.
But before I could finish, I noticed he was sweating and anxious in a way. Somehow he stayed in the doorway (as if to block me from entering) and was insisting to get me whatever I wanted; if at all I was in hurry.
Smelling a cat (or a rat), I shoved my way into the house and straight to his room. There she was, the neighbour’s house girl, waiting for her darling to return for probably another round of …conversation? Noticing how she had been busted, she gathered up her belongings and hurriedly walked out.
I was shell-shocked; I couldn’t say even a word. As they say, the rest is history. My housemate and I caught them in the act on several occasions in the days that followed. However, his joy was short-lived as the neighbours later came to notice her (the house girl) thieving ways and fired her straight away.
Ours went on to defend her vehemently before her bosses but the decision was made, he run up and down shouting ‘ararengana’ (she is being treated unfairly), he even shed tears at a certain point. It was too late.