True Nairobi

By Sandra Nekh

The story picks up years after the supposed death of child trafficker and Drug Lord Mica Avakian. Nalia is all grown up and goes by Nina now. Times have changed. The security she knew taken away. Her foster family gone, her real family too complex to deal with she has moved into Nairobi City to find a life with party girl and friend Tia. She finds herself intertwined in the racy life of Nairobi drug mules bartending at a local club because of her limited educational background. She also finds that the Avakian shadow still looms, she can never run too far from her troubled past.
Nandi knew a life at the side of Mica Avakian, now he has to forge a new path; a pretentious path that is the cleansing of the city of Nairobi.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra Nekh
• Release date: Sep 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370499991

Sandra Nekh

I am Sandra, a girl from a little village in Africa. I knew I had a love for words and stories when I picked up my first book on Red Indians when I was about 6/7 Years. I cant remember the name of the book but there was something about this other world that drove me insane. IT haunted my dreams and soon I could see myself in this new world. Because my world was very limited I realized that I could travel through the words. That was how I found myself preferring to read quietly in a corner than play outside with the rest. I was about 8/9 when I picked up a pen to write. Since then I have written but its only until 2015 that I decided to publish with Lulu. I write fiction and scrips. I also work in the Film industry and Design. I enjoy Digital art drawing. reading online comics, Anime and music.

Book preview

Dedication

To Lilly and Kenzia, I love you.

Prologue

Dream 1

A crowd was singing in a circle, more like chanting. They were leaning forward and back with every octal growling chant.

Nalia…

Micah’s voice, Oh, Nalia…

You left me Nalia…

Micah no… a hand is slapped over her mouth.

Silence young child!

Nalia walked outside the circle trying to catch a glimpse of what stood at the center. There wore dark robes, a dark robbed congregation. They stopped swaying front to back and start swaying side to side. They exhibit a sick harmony to the vibrating humming they produced.

Nalia moved closer leaning slightly in a congregant to view within the circle. Every one she leaned on shoved her off without even turning to see the face of the unwelcomed disturbance. She could hear a leading voice that came from the center of the crowd, screeching inaudible words above the thunderous humming. She started spinning as they swayed more vigorously.

I will find you child! A voice rent the air, louder, more pronounced.

The room now full of tangible screams. They slapped their cheeks, the smacking sounds making Nalia shiver.

A few turned and faced Nalia, they were faceless like vengeful ghosts. She gasped.  The faceless dragged her by her curly hair that for some reason was wet. She kicked and screamed, realizing that her head was raw, like she had just undone some heavy locks.

Nalia clutched at one of the robbed, 

Help! Please help! the robed turned. She jumped back. He was bloody eyed, with eyes set on her. She could not stop screaming. Eternal darkness engulfed them and everything around them.

Nalia could hear the chants but could see nothing. Suddenly there was a face hoovering over her, slightly illuminated in a thin light. It shook slightly as the flesh from its cheeks, forehead and other parts of it fell in bits and pieces on Nalia’s lap, then the bits and pieces started to burn. Nalia kicked her feet hard as she could but to no avail. She was stuck.

One by one a small bit fell, a piece a little larger than the rest. It fell as a beast descended upon her. Nalia turned to crawl away but the beast was gaining fast. Her tears turning acidic leaving blisters down her face.

I will find you child!

Micah! Nalia finally recognized the voice.

The beast’s gigantic paws fell on her middle back, slamming her on the floor. Her face was scrapped by the uneven ground; she lay there until the hard ground started to turn into rotting flesh. It smelt worse than death, and it was all over her. She wanted to puke but it came all dry heaves. Her ribs hurt as she heaved over and over again. It sounded horrible, like she is about to hack her insides out.

Nalia shrieked as her scorched face begun to bleed. She suddenly could not breathe!

Her last breath exploded in a controlled cry,

Kyura!

Pitch black took over for a few seconds. Then there was a flash. Nalia was still at the center of the circle.  The chanting shadows that swayed and stomped so close around her went on as she sobbed for mercy.

Kyura stood above her, I will find you. he assured her, his voice deceptive. She almost believed him when his hands suddenly fell on her neck. He started to squeeze. She closed her eyes, trying to escape the terror that was unfolding around her.

She gasped for air as she tried to breathe, if only she could catch one breath. She opened her eyes to let them plead for her.

Kyura please…

She opened her eyes only to see Mica before her. His angry face, his hands pale from lack of blood as he squeezed harder, blood rushing out of them. The chants became so loud she could feel them in her blood stream, flowing in her veins,

I will find you!

Nalia slapped and wiggled. She fought for freedom but to no avail. She closed her eyes in one final breath. The Devil came to her behind her closed eyelids. He held a knife to her throat. The knife was silver and freshly sharpened, its desecrated existence reflected in the pit that was his eyes as he whispered,

I have found you. the knife ran across her throat.

Dream 2

Nalia… Micah’s voice was soft. She opened her eyes, Nalia you wretched whore!

Thunder roared as his back hand slapped across her face. She fell past a bed and into a sea of blinking nothingness. Nalia then fell on into a thorny forest. It ripped her night gown. Nalia ran fast, bare foot away from a presence she felt but could not see. It raged towards her, bending whole trees in its pursuit.

The damned, pray to your God!

I don’t believe in a god! Nalia can’t help but think.

Nalia’s feet bled leaving a trail of her scent and prints in scarlet that led to her. She jumped and skidded over fallen trunks and broken branches. She winced when the branches and leaves cut through her skin.

Trees suddenly came uprooted, crashing down over her. She slipped under one and curved herself below it for whatever protection it would provide.

Wretch! Scoundrel! Rat! Vermin! The voice came closer and closer, the ground shook. The Sun vanished over the horizon. It was all too quick, as though the sun was on cue. She should have guessed that it was a dream.

Silence, dead silence took over.

She curled smaller under wet leaves, shaking. Freezing and scared, she waited. Nalia chose to part her teeth to lessen the chatter. Dead silence still. Nothing.

Little rat there you are! the presence growled as it pulled the tree from over Nalia. She trembled in panic.

What to do … what to do…

Dream 3

On the way home Nalia and her driver passed by a road accident. A man lay on the tarmac dead. He was all twisted up; leg over arm, head bent over chest his mangled body lay in a pool of blood. Shocking still, the man lay between a mini-truck with a smashed in windscreen and police car still flashing its lights. The latter’s occupants stood and ran all-over. Strangely there were over twenty of them. They stood and ran all over. It was very strange. They all suddenly froze. They directed traffic at the same moment. They stopped oncoming traffic and direct Nalia to drive through.

Nalia looked at the body as they drove past it, Too graphic, so very graphic! her words seem oddly like someone else’s. She peered into the rear view mirror, looking for the right angle, when she found it, she looked at the now fading red and blue lights.

So graphic!

Nalia walks into her house. Her radio is on and pretty loud.

Tiny humble place for such a volume. there it was again, her voice sounding like someone else’s.

Who talks like that?

The voice in the radio belonged to a crime Channel. It describes a crime scene that sound oddly like her house. She steps closer to the radio as the voice narrated,

At first it looked like a robbery gone bad but I soon ruled that out.

Nalia shivered. She locked the front door.

There were bodies everywhere: male and female alike, some bloody some all cleaned up. The most startling thing is how they were slain in the room…

Nalia turned around. There were seven dead in her little living room, all on the sofas sat as though she had hosted a party in absentia. Blood stained the walls, floor and couches. Nalia should have been scared. She was not. She just stood there looking at the bodies her face indifferent.

I will not fear. Nalia whispered. She heads to the kitchen to fix something to eat. She felt like a bran sandwich. She jumped over a body as she walks into the kitchen.

I will not fear.

Dream 4

It had been one month, two weeks, and six days since Nalia last heard his voice. Two days longer since our skin touched. Now they touch. Nalia lay her weight on him. The space between them thinned to none existence as they glide into each other.

An inch is too close…

His warmth tickled her. Nalia avoided the look in his eyes as her heart testifies to the truth that the god before her was hers. Testify her lust for her god.

Just one sin… no… An inch is too close… His body is too warm… A shrine to the worship of himself this one is.

Nalia turned to flee from him as she should have. Two strides of running and she was in the air. A solid arm about her waist. It pulled forcefully sweeping her off her feet.

Having travelled the distance between us in what was an hour of any and all dirty thoughts I could live through…There were no rules now… Please don’t make any!

The arm tightened holding their profiles as one. Nalia leaned back her head slowly turning towards him. She kissed him on the neck. He held her firmer turning her sharply in the little space in his arms. Raw power held their faces inches from each other. Nalia’s mind played out the kiss; she is all receiving, hot and ready. His eyes darkened; thinning into an intense glare. Nalia’s breath hitched.

Nalia did not realize it but she had shut her eyes.

I want you, all of you. she whispered. He smiles realizing that she probably thought it but her brain jumbled with lust said it out loud.

Nalia parted her lips. She was ready. He should have laid one on her, but he pulled away. She opened her eyes feeling the withdrawal. Nalia searched his dark eyes now glassy.

What? she asked him. All the while she thought and saw Kyura.

I already have you. What more? Mica spoke low staring her down.

***

The past was proving resilient. Nalia could not shake it. A new name a new life could not change anything. She was still the scared little girl from Nanyuki.

Nina Mazrui.

The new name had a kick to it. She had practiced it over and over in the mirror. She ensured she never got it wrong. She was perfect never slipped. When asked,

What’s your name?

She would answer,

Nina, pause, smile then tilt her head. Nina Mazrui. she never got it wrong.

***

Faces are just a mask. Nina mastered the art of masks. She played the confident girl, beautiful and in charge of her own. Truth was she was scared, always scared. Seven years later and the past crept at her in the ghastly hours of the night. She could not shake the feeling that her past was coming back as soon as she turned the page to the next part of her tale. She felt like she turned the page only to turn the book upside down, to turn back to the old page and do it over and over again.

What’s in a name? Ava, then Nalia now Nina. What’s in the names she picked? Is it the name she is given that seems to pull her down the gutter like filth every time round?

Nina felt cursed. Her dreams manifestation of her curse. She was tired of sitting up drenched in sweat gasping for air. She needed a new constant. 

Chapter One

"Nairobi stinks. It smells of trash and urine and vice. Vices that are human perpetuated. Vices that can only lead us to eternal flame.

Wrecked Nairobi reeks of lies, murder, theft and corruption. I speak lightly. The truth is in plain sight but hidden in false promises and bleach white smiles. Can you smell it...? Vile as a demon. Can you smell the filth we are conditioned to live in? Can you feel your dying soul? You die each day but you are too high to care. High on the crap they feed you. The worst part is that you were born immaculate. Yet you drink and partake as you vote for this filth over and over again.

Nairobi is rotting and you filth sit here with smiles on your faces yet you pour the kerosene, light the match and dance about the bonfire. Yeah, you scream. We are celebrating life... Yeah! You scream like the Father never gave you a brain. You deserve to burn with the dying city.

I will bring the revolution. I will bury this past that is our new normal and fight for a new revolution! Hail to freedom! Hail life! Hail mama Africa. Nairobi... I will heal your broken wing."

Nandi sat in a little dark room with his face partially hidden behind a dark hoodie. Before him sat an old PC, the best the man could get on scrounged up shillings and a scary history. He ran a sound recording software on the PC, he watched his recording session on an old school monitor that lit up part of his hooded face. Beads of sweat slipped down the sides of his face and down his nose. The room was hot. It was not a room per se, more of a broom closet than a room. It lacked a window, air barely circulated in it. It was a box. A box custom made to fit his height but not wide enough for him to live in. On the floor behind Nandi was a made up cot where the king of words lay his weary head after a long day. It was dirty and messy. He would have wished for more but every messiah had a price to pay. His was virtually homeless.

Nandi’s words were dying to come out. He needed to speak. He needed the words out of his mouth so that he could breathe. Nandi had conviction in his words. He had a special zeal in his voice. All the makings of a large following. Nandi was old school. He had a Facebook account where he posted his videos and audio recordings. Had a following of over 4 Million. In a country of forty million souls a percentage of the soul bounty. He had them hooked. Had them willing to listen. It was only a matter of time before change was activated.

Why young Nairobi should you die in vain while we breathe this air we claim is ours. I will stand and not let my city fall. You want a vigilante... I give you me! Nandi found himself suddenly yelling.

I give you the one thing you are scared of! I give you a voice. Unhindered. Un-calibrated. I will speak... He starts to sound delusional getting too emotional.

I am the ghost of your past. I reckon you thought I was gone... But I am back! Confess and I will not take it, feed you your guts for dinner. You and your sinner guests. Confess and you will have your penance or I will feed you the shame of spraying little children with tear gas! Confess for the unjust deaths. Confess for your illegitimate children... The money that is stained in blood and lays in your pockets! You evil wretch! You bloody witch! Confess!

Nandi removed his hood and stepped closer to the microphone.  He breathed into the microphone then he spoke somewhat calmer.

You reek of underhanded deals. I will give you your penance you de-virginized harlot. Confess vile Nairobi... Confess!!!

Seven years later Nandi was the epitome of madness. His madness had few strokes of genius he went after the government, the church, the lost flock... Really anyone with a beating heart. To anyone else Nandi had lost it, but to the keen ear, the intellectual, the little boy and girl with truth in their hearts, the honest, the brave, those who needed a nudge in the right direction, Nandi was a hero. He was not scared of the repercussions of actually speaking out his mind. He was nobody. He was anonymous, came on the grid like he had materialized from thin air a phantom of a sick past. Nandi was the perfect man to be the voice of the people. He had nothing to lose. He was the right kind of vigilante.

Chapter Two

Music blared in a club in the CBD of Nairobi. This club sat in the side of a posh four-star hotel, The Monaco. It was old. Had marked the Nairobi skyline through the 90’s till Nairobi got better and wiser in construction and realization of a new, smart business hub, characterized in concrete jungles of immaculate sky creepers. Monaco was old but golden.

The club never bothered the high-end guests who slept there, it was built with sound proof walls to the side of the hotel. Soon as the main door opened, pandemonium, when it was shut, it was just another door that led to an unknown place there yonder.

A young bartender stood on the outside of the bar. Behind her the club rallied on, laughs and smiles, at times laughter. Sweaty bodies ground on each other. Shame and lust stunk to the high heavens. Shy smiles hid behind large hands, shy smiles snaked through slender fingers. It was a night of revel.

The bartender held a rug already to wipe, somehow unwilling to let a few drops of spilt drink lay unattended on the hardwood counter top. A man worked the counter on the other side, he was slender and tall, dressed in all black. His shirt had a tag that read Monaco. He looked over holding a finger up to the bartender telling her to wait as he gave a client her drink, even winked at her. The client dropped her all business façade and smiled back taking her drink and pushing through the building crowd.

Carlo, am off for the night. Nina yelled, her voice heavily swallowed by the loud music at the club.

You going home? he asked her,

No, am gon’ dance the night away. She said swinging her hips from left to right in a manner to drive any one up the walls. Her little waist, paired with curvy hips and a fairly generous derriere. A girl to marvel at for sure.

Do your thing mama. He said as he poured a drink for a waiting customer. He smiled at her, she smiled back and headed to the dance floor.

***

Lance was standing at the balcony of the VIP that over looked the dance floor, he was obsessed with this one girl, the way that she moved was what drove him insane. She was the most beautiful girl that he had seen and he would swear on it, but they say that the beautiful ones are not yet born. Who is to say that he would meet a gorgeous angel that night, or the other… or seven years from that day.

Every night at around midnight the dancing beauty took the floor, and he was there to watch her every time. He saw her and a smile developed on his face,

Beautiful. He whispered, his ebony hands gripping the railing before him. Her skin contrasted his almost like heaven and hell, she was fair skinned, a beautiful body and that long dark curly mane, this child of the world was going to be the death of him.

What was that? Dave one of the members of his crew who was standing beside him asked him, Lance simply pointed at the girl,

I see her every time we come here, since last week, she takes the floor at midnight, I think I love her man!

"She is just a girl; I think she works here.