By Bantu Freeman Omwami.
The beautiful, intelligent, royal and God’s chosen people of Samia in Kenya believe that life whispers at us. We equally believe that if one does not hear the whispers of life, life will shout at them to get their attention. Penultimately, we believe that if one still does not listen to those shouts, life will ultimately scream at them with subtle cautiousness. Indeed, life gives us pointers. Pointers of how it wants us to align.
Such was the case for Nick Imudia; a middle aged, handsome, educated, talented, industrious and top of the cutting edge polished corporate expatriate from Nigeria. Nick wasn’t just your outmoded industry lead. No. He was a daring Man that had fastened his career pathways with exquisite ideations and innovations that thrust him to the summit of the technological progression, not only in Africa, but also at the global stage. Like the towering Giraffes of the Savannah, he throttled the corporate world with colossal results.
His resume was gorgeous. He was a graduate of information technology from Finland, and a master degree holder from England. In between, he had devoured several courses accruing enormous market relevant-skills that impelled him to the top of the technological corporate world. His Career pathway sounded legendary for a person of his age; an enviable portfolio that looked too good for veracity.
As Samians say, however clean one is, they can never remove their underwear while farting. There are things we hide in the inner closet of the archives of our lives. Nick loved life. He loved Women. He loved them tall, chocolate and sassy. He loved the Bottle too. He lived his life on the first lane, on top of the Tables, not just with Women, but with fine Women of peculiar profiles.
On this day, we were at the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, bidding farewell to Nick. The Chattered Plane carrying his remains was slowly leaving its hanger, taxing on the run way, ready to take off, flying up, so high in the sky, disappearing into the gigantic April Columbus clouds of Nairobi, off to Finland, his final resting place.
Nick had come to this beautiful Country flying luxuriously in the magnificent first class of Kenya Airways’ Boeing 540. As an astute industry lead, with an illustrious career in the tech industry, he had all the trappings and tapings of power associated with his profile-a high end on-demand tech savvy CEO coming to establish a portfolio for a foreign Company in a new market in Africa.
Today, contrastingly, he was departing as Cargo, wrapped into a Coffin, placed into the Belly of a Plane, silently leave-taking, never to ever return; a stack departure from the grandiose and glamorous reception that characterized his arrival in the Country. Death normalizes everything. Seasons of our lives. He arrived in dazzling fanfare, he left in deafening silence, forlorn.
News-both on main stream and social media-had been depressing of late, more of paralyzing. Hardly nothing away from death was making the cut. As to whether this was advertent or inadvertent, we couldn’t tell. The Country was suffocating under the brutal wave of femicides, accidents, suicides and murders. Like the raging fires of California, the wave had razed into the Universities and middle-level colleges in the Country. Inexplicably, it a times looked targeted, and sometimes spontaneous. Most of the victims were Women.
As the Country grappled with this wave, more and more deaths were reported. A fortnight ago, leading media outlets in Kenya reported death of a leading corporate expatriate in an apartment in Kilimani area of Nairobi, Kenya.
Kilimani area, just like Tsavo apartments in Mirema, along the magnificent Thika Superhighway have infamously come to be associated with foreigners in Kenya. Christened the modern day Sodom and Gomorra, Kilimani and Mirema have become the boudoir of the Alter of Satan reincarnate. Hardly a week passes-by without news of death, rape, murder or femicides being reported from there.
A battery of journalists had camped both at the apartment and the Kilimani Police station trying to dig-deep into the case. As the day progressed, information started streaming down. Like the burning magma of the Hawaii eruptions, it burnt and consumed many in its way.
The police commandant in their usual tired bravado had released a statement to the media reading “A middle aged Man in his forties jumped to his death from his rented apartment. The initial investigations lead to suicide. The police will leave no stones untouched in unravelling what led him to this decision. We urge the Country to be patient and allow the police to execute its mandate. Thank you”.
A story of near perfect life-Young, educated, talented, professional family man with unrivalled ambitions, born in Nigeria, bred in higher learning institutions in Finland and England, and blossomed in boardrooms of high-end corporates-had suddenly been leapfrogged into the margins, supplanted by indescribable reverberations of love, Alcohol, lust, sex, pregnancies, manipulations and all that profile associated with Kilimani and Mirema- Kenya’s superlative Sodom and Gomorra. Gross! Absolutely gross! Nick had succefully been turned into a social recluse in his death.
Trouble had rendered its ugly face to Nick the moment he reported to work in Nairobi Kenya. A Man who was once well groomed, cultured, educated, professionally focused, ambitious and family oriented found himself transacting on the altar of emotions of lust the moment he met Diana. Diana was the personal assistant designated by the company to Nick.
Diana was a wild-spirited woman with a dazzling personality. She epitomized the phenomenon of raw village beauty. She was an irresistible 5.8 feet tall light skin Luhya lady made and curated in God’s moment of artistic wizardry. God had indeed willingly afforded her all the eccentric high frequency physical features of attraction.
She was endowed with legendary hips and a behind to behold. Her dental was epic-shiny white well-arranged Teeth that never overlapped each other. Her facial features had an irresistible allure; her eyebrows were cully, black, bold and naturally shaped, so were her eye lashes. Her Nose was centrally placed, moderately long but quite shaped to balance her symmetrical face.
She had well-angled jaw bones whose beauty was accentuated more with visibly well chiseled dimples on either of her cheeks that revealed her magical dental every time she smiled. Her lips were fleshy, but moist and tender- always laced with red lipstick, plus an added layer of lip balm for aesthetic marination. She was simply breathtaking!
She had a long ringed neck that slightly exaggerated her height. Her shoulders were straight, outwardly inverted. Her breasts were sharply pointed with stinging Nipples that threatened to tore her bra as she walked in her characteristic majestic poise. That seemed her signature walk anyway, especially in the presence of Men who mattered. Her legs looked compact and well-muscled with feminine hairs that irregularly revealed her testosterone levels.
She had an outstanding grasp of the English language, with a matching melodious voice that created perfect quintessential moments whenever she spoke. Speaking, she did, gently, in a measured manner, but with exaggerated confidence and command. Above all, she was a master of scheduling with vast networks across the corporate world-exactly what Nick wanted in a personal assistant-Witty, elegant, flamboyant and eccentric performer off, and on duty. Spontaneous! A corporate charmer! A perfectionist per excellence! She tackled her duties and responsibilities with surgical precision, a near perfect flair.
As the saying goes, he who does not know, may confuse a garden for a forest. Human beings have a tendency of overrating others, especially without hindsight. Despite this epic beauty and professional impeccability, Diana possessed a convoluted personality of unmatched demonic wickedness un-be-known to Nick. Wickedness seemed to follow her in character, behavior and attitude like a Cloud. She exhibited an initiaciable appetite for the finest glitters of life. She desired more than her genuine efforts could support and sustain. She not only wanted to eat life with a big spoon but also brutally wrestled everything in her way to occupying the main Table, sit on the main seat, and dictate the menu, the recipe and how the final meal would be served. In her moral closet, the end justified the means.
On their first encounter at work, Diana walked into the boardroom with a boisterous demeanor. She unleashed her raw beauty and professional charisma into the pupil of Nick’s eyes. First impressions create everlasting implications. Strategy! She was a fiery firecracker! Nick’s eyes picked it, processed it and stored it in his memorials, tucking it deep into the fibers of the walls of his heart. He was enthralled!
“Good morning Mr. Nick? She saluted him with a firm but feminine hand shake. Her palms soft, but tender, a little bit oily. Her presence filled the boardroom with the fragrance of expensive perfume. She just smelled good. Occasion bound!
“Good morning to you too”. Responded Nick. “You must be…………. Miss Diana….right? He asked.
“Yes, my name is Diana, your personal assistant designate. Welcome to Nairobi Kenya, the city under the Sun! She smiled, unleashing her elaborate left cheek dimple, intentionally tilting her face for Nick to have a clear optical nutrition. She swung her Wig on the right, raising her right hand to tuck in strings of stray hairs inside her hair band.
“I have your on-boarding schedule ready, said Melody. Shall we go through it briefly? She asked, leaning forward, sitting directly opposite Nick. View point!
“Yes, we may” answered Nick, as his head nodded simultaneously.
Diana embarked. “In the morning, you will be interacting with the board of directors. In the mid-morning, you will have an exclusive session with the Human resource Director, while in the afternoon, you will be interfacing with the middle-level managers. She paused, her eyes transfixed to Nick’s with a seemingly magnetic, sort of spiritual grip. “Is that ok? She asked, seductively biting the left side of her cupids bow.
Nick nodded in the affirmative. She was swimming in aura! Relentless and captivating.
“Thereafter in the evening,” she continued, “the office has instructed me to take you on a familiarization tour of the surrounding, including a visits to the apartments that have been designated to you. Is that equally ok with you? She asked again, trying to pick a conversation with Nick.
“Yes, yes, that’s perfect with me, replied Nick, a little lost in fantasy-but understandably so-swallowing his saliva down his throat, not wanting Diana to notice. A spell had been cast. He lifted his right hand, touched his beards and massaged them in slow-motion. His Tongue rubbed his lips. His eyes rolled. The spell was on activation! Diana noticed, but pretended not to. It was intentional. Silent bidding. Upping the stakes!
That evening, Diana picked Nick from the boardroom. Together, they walked the Corridor to the lift headed to the parking. She made sure she was walking a step ahead of Nick, creating angled viewpoints that Nick would irresistibly marvel at the beauty of her creation. Her tight mini-skirt revealed her well chiseled thighs, hips and behind, well tucked away with visible pant lines. Alluring. In the lift, her Blouse, intentionally not fully buttoned, exposed her tight, chocolate colored breasts, the cleavage exposed, all serving her intended purpose of alluring Nick. A Man must die of something, so do we Samians believe.
They had elaborate de-tours of the three apartments in Kilimani area from which, Nick would decide to settle in one. Diana took time to explain the sophistications of the houses like an experienced curator. Unbeknown to Nick, Diana was belaboring to explain the ideality of the Houses because she was guaranteed a 20% appreciation fee by the House owners for each House succefully occupied. Strategic! Street-wise corrupt!
In the process, she offered to honor Nick with a fresh homemade Kenyan meal for the first time. Nick, tired of eating in Hotels, obliged. They drove to the supermarket, bought food, ingredients and drinks and drove directly to Nick’s temporary aboard-The Ngono Air BnB. Nick offered Diana one of his T-shirt. She went into the bathroom to change. She held the T-shirt intimately, her muscles clenching. She smelt its fragrance, inhaled it and held it by her heart. She was smitten! She changed and got into cooking.
Diana placed her A- class cooking skills on exhibition for Nick. She cooked with distinction as she appraised him on the culture of Kenya, and more so, Nairobi’s night life. They drunk. They ate. They laughed. Deep into the night, they enjoyed music from both countries. Nick was impressed by the artistry of Kenya’s Sauti Soul’s hit song Finale. He sang along “Leo Silali, Finale, referee, finale, watatupenda. Finale! Watatii, finale, watatupenda, finale. Diana was at hand to translate the song for him. He loved it. Little did he know that indeed, that night would be a real final in the game of “Bedminton. Nick was sold. Diana was the buyer.
He walked to the main window of the Ngono Air BnB holding his Glass of Wine. It was raining. The Nairobi skyline was exuding its magnificent beauty. As the sound of the rain roared, it gave room to inviting silence. Diana picked her own glass of wine and followed him to the Window. She wrapped her hands around his waist from behind. Nick did not resist. “Did you enjoy the meal?” She asked him. “Yes of course. That was sumptuous, just like the Cook herself.” He responded. “Thank you, you just made me remember my life back in Nigeria.” He said. “You are welcome”, she responded. Anytime!
They moved on the bed, slowly sharing their pasts and vulnerabilities. Nick loved his Family. He was married to a Finish Woman. God had blessed them with two children-a daughter and a son. While Nick spoke of his never ending struggles with marriage because of his conflicting Career pathways, Diana offered a listening ear. He spoke, on and on, and on, and on. His marriage was on the edge. He was moneyed, but not happy. Slowly, he lowered his emotional guard. Diana saw, and pounced. She moved closer, deliberately but spontaneously. She held him by the neck, rubbed his chest and tightly embraced him. She sunk her body deep into Nick’s vast chest. His Chest muscles flickered. He could feel her pointed nipples piercing through his vest.
He could feel her heart pounding. She was warm. They directly looked into each other’s eyes, their bodies rubbed. Their Noses and lips inter-locked, they kissed; slow, gentle, long, Tongue-deep kiss, breathing hard on each other, coiling like snakes, fingers into each other’s ears, rubbing gently.
Nick turned Melody upside down. He tore her Mini skirt along the slit. His muscular hands clumped on her thighs, gently rubbing her soft body hairs. She was wet. She was burning. His testosterone levels surged like a volcano. His body was melting. Their eye-lids dilated. They both plugged in, mourning as they explored each other in reverence in the comfort of the warm beddings of Ngono Air BnB. An autographed welcoming note to Kenya. Initiation. Diana had strategically hawked her way into Nick’s life, just like that!
In the morning, Nick ordered designer cloths and necessities for Diana on-line. They were delivered promptly. They bathed together, freshened up, changed into the designer apparels, and drove to work. She made sure they drove in when everyone was getting in-the traffic hour syndrome- just for the optical victories. This was a statement of conquest, especially to her female colleagues, and not a walk-in of shame as would be to another person that held a string of morality. Diana was announcing to all and Sundry that this was her kingdom, and that she was already ruling it. Just like that, Nick and Diana hit the road running with love, or was it lust?
Nick thought that would be a one off experience. No, it wasn’t to be. It went on and on, beyond, over and above the one night stand he had envisioned. Days passed by, weeks folded into months, and months into a year. He was trapped. Melody occupied every space around Nick. She became his defacto wife, friend, colleague, personal assistant, travel mate, house mate and all.
Nick had been dating Diana for a year now. Together, they traversed the Country eating life mercilessly as an office Couple. After all, there was money. Money in its immeasurable numbers. From the numerous game drives in the Mara, to the world Safari Rally championship in Naivasha, to the blue waters of the expensive Five Star Hotels in the Kenyan South Coast. They attended dinners together. They attended Concerts together. They watched Rugby matches along Ngong road asacouple.They cheered in the local soccer Darby between Yamatere and K’ogallo in the iconic Kasarani stadium. They travelled beyond the borders to Tanzania, enjoying the serenity of the Serengeti. They sampled the Sea foods of the coast of Zanzibar. They had romantic dinners in the wilds of Elementaita. They watched the Sun set on the horizon of Lake Victoria. They witnessed the vastness of River Nile in Jinja Uganda. They experienced the wonders of the wild beast migration in the Mara. They shopped in Dubai. They drove into the Desert sands of Dubai perhaps to measure their resilience. They surmounted the tip of Mt.Kilimanjaro together, perhaps to symbolically hoist their love beyond reach. This was a blissful love brewed with the strongest concoctions, so it seemed from the outside.
Despite this, Nick was emotionally ungovernable. Many are the times their relationship ran into threatening headwinds. Not only did Nick have an ostentatious exhibition of luxury living, but also a grandiose enthusiasm for pretty Women. It thrilled him to conquer colleagues, college girls, Women in social places and during his field engagements regardless of Diana’s presence around him.
He changed Women like cloths at every slight opportunity. His definition of Alpha male Manhood was an elevated sexual ego that dominated Women, with a brutal surgical spirit of aggression, inspired by their desire to associate with the fine things of life at his disposal. The descendant of Abraham loved them with anomalous fanaticism. He was simply a sexual wreck that believed in transactional sex, not relationship building per-say. Many are the Girls that unknowingly fell prey to him.
Diana disdained this. She knew she was not indispensable. It was obvious that at any slight opportunity, the seasons might change, and she might be replaced instantaneously. She was filled with the fear of one day waking up and finding her gold mine gone. This fear wrecked her to the core. She knew that Nick’s contract was to run out in slightly over two years. This was a race against time. She confided this in her Mother and friend seeking their advice. This is a Man who had mined her from the trenches of social oblivion, adding gloss to her, and establishing her on the first lane of life. She had walked the walk of shame for far too long as a result of poverty. She desired to retain the walk of fame that Nick had elevated her into. She needed to safeguard this sort of relational legacy. She, together with her Mother and friend thus hatched a plan.
She was going to get him impregnate her at all costs. Diana started monitoring her ovulation cycle keenly. Her Mother religiously kept on sending her Miti shamba fromKholeera village in Mumiasto spur the vibrancy of her hormones. Her friend, Melody, whom she had gone to school with at Namulungu mixed secondary school even went a step further. She introduced her to Mutisia; a famous spiritual healer in Kitui who they could visit time and again to seek spiritual enablement and direction on how to retain Nick to herself. It was a concerted effort, more of Ndoa ya kulazimisha. Mutisia had given Diana spiritual waist and ankle beads to wear every time she had intimacy with Nick disguised as beauty beads. Aside from this, Mutisia had also given her herbals that she could mix with Food and drinks for Nick. This was to covenant him to her.
She bought pregnancy testing kits in their volumes and stored in her bedroom. Every delayed menstruation attracted many pregnancy tests that turned negative. It was tearing her apart. Four months had passed by. Her periods disappeared. Month one, month two, month three. The well had dried up. She did not test because she did not want to be disappointed.
Three months later, Diana summoned all the spirits of her lineage and walked into the Hospital for testing. It turned positive. It was a moment to behold. She quickly called her Mother and her best friend Melody, Namulungu Mixed secondary alumni, to share the news. Her Mother-Jerusa- travelled from Mumias to Nairobi to pitch tent at her daughter’s House. She needed specialized care to establish the pregnancy. Nick was kept in the dark. This was their ticket to opulence. It needed to be cared for by all means necessary.
One morning, three months later, Diana dropped a bombshell to Nick via a Whatsup message. “I am pregnant”, she wrote. “Three months now. I deliberately kept it away from you. I wasn’t so sure of how you would have reacted. I am keeping the pregnancy. Just so you know. Prepare for Fatherhood.” The message read.
Nick was appalled! It hit him like a tornado. He had never envisioned having another family away from his already established one. He was just in Kenya for a season. As much as he had troubles with his marriage, He had a special place for his Finish wife and two children. Little did he ever imagine having a child with another woman. He had ensured supervised Family planning interventions for Diana. How did it happen?
This was mind-boggling. “Can we have a meet up? Nick texted Diana. She did not respond. He panicked. In split seconds, he called Diana, his phone on his right Ear, supported by his shoulder, his hands flapping his laptop, his other hand picking a few items on the Table, packing. He left the office in a hurry to his apartment. He was in shock! Diana did not pick his call. All his calls were directed to voice mail.
“Diana why? He ranted in the Car, alone. “You told me that you were using contraceptives. What happened? Do you have any idea what you have just done? You are putting my career into jeopardy. You are destroying my reputation. You are going to break my marriage. All I have ever worked for is now headed the drain.” What did I get myself into? What did I do to deserve this torment from you? I gave you life and all its goodness, just why Diana, why? Diana you are Evil. In fact, you are Devilish!
Nick drove home in supersonic speed, reckless as a Pig high on Molasses. He got into his apartment, shut the door behind him, undressed and knelt down naked, raising his hands in surrender to pray. “Dear God, your Son has come to you, just as he came to this world. My life is endangered by Diana. That daughter of Jezebel threatens to finish me completely. The manhood you gave me has led me into sin.” He prayed as he held his manhood in the palms of his two hands. My Father, God of redemption, redeem me. Deliver me from this grip of appetite for Women. Have mercy on me Son of God, just this one last moment”
He stood up, sweating profusely, rushed to his bedroom mirror. He stood before it as if to admire his own nudity, conversing with his image in the mirror:” Nick, is this you? Are you possessed? Who bewitched you? Your village ancestors cannot give you Peace. Oooh Nick, whose Son are you?”
This message changed the trajectory of relationship between Nick and Diana. Nick wasn’t planning on taking responsibility of the child. Diana knew this. She insisted on retaining it. This only increased his vulnerabilities. Not only was his marriage at stake now, but also his job, reputation and his own mental health. It all happened in quick succession. He was triggered. He needed to manage this in order to safeguard himself.
Can we meet and talk about this away from the office please? Nick had requested again. This time round, Diana responded. “Yes, we can, but in a public place, just so I can guarantee my safety.” They set up a meeting at an upmarket restaurant. Nick arrived, his lawyer in toe. Unbeknown to him, Diana had come with her Mother and her best friend-Melody of Namulungu Mixed secondary school.
“This is my first and favorite child. I named her Princes Diana, after the princess of Wales,” said Jerusa, Diana’s Mother. “Our Family attaches a lot of value to her. We have invested heavily in her”. She said.
It was like an opening bid statement in an auction. “We as family have decided that she carries this pregnancy to term”, she said authoritatively. “We are indeed prepared to do anything and everything to support her all through.” She concluded.
“Nick, first, I am carrying the pregnancy to full term. I have sacrificed everything to become who I am now. I am not going to force you to be present in your own child’s life. However, I will hold you to accountability as a father by any means necessary. You must secure the future of this child soonest before your contract expires” interjected Diana.
“Wow! Amazing. What exactly do you mean by safeguarding the future of the child” asked Nick.
“Yes, could you kindly elaborate on this?” interjected Mapesa, Nick’s Lawyer.
Of course expatriates are the golden rings of the middle class in Kenya. Their fabric is usually cut above the rest. The design of their lives is meticulous and flamboyant. A fully furnished House in the up-market apartments, a Car, a Chef, driver security and a fat pay check to accentuate their lifestyles, not to mention the luminous allowances to enable them work contentedly. They are the cherry in the pick. Comfort defines their livelihoods. These are the ingredients that locked Diana to Nick. She wanted a piece of that Cake! She had tested it, now she wanted town it.
“I want a payout.” Diana was unapologetically upfront! She wanted a House in the upmarket Kilimani area, a good Car and a sum of 8.5 million kshs deposited into her bank account immediately, even before the baby was born.
“Really? A pay out? Are you even for real? What if the pregnancy does not survive full term? How sure can I be that I am the father? Why can’t we wait until the baby is born? What if I don’t offer that” said Nick in quick succession, obviously exasperated.
“Well, then I will have no other option but to seek redress with the board of directors at work, let your wife in on this, and enlist the Courts to help me hold you to accountability” said Diana, gently. “You know the implication this comes with, especially on your side. Make your choices. Just know that choices have consequences” she concluded. The die had been cast. Nick was trapped, caged and held at ransom!
“Good people, this is happening so fast”. Mapesa, Nick’s lawyer jumped into the conversation. “First of all, if indeed your mother named you after Princes Diana, the prince of Wales, that was an iconic Woman whose life was synonymous with peace, philanthropy, care and empathy for others. I don’t have a similar reading of that in you. Second of all, this is pure extortion. Third of all, I will have a review of this demands with my client and revert to him with an advisory, so that we get back to you as soon as possible. In the meantime, we keep the situation private and confidential” Are we clear on this? She asked. No one answered her.
Nick had known that in the smokescreen of Diana’s versatility, she harbored subtle toxicity. He had unfortunately under-estimated its validity. He knew she was narcissistic. However, little did he ever imagined that she was a calculative and malicious woman whose ultimate goal was to control, manipulate and enrich her-self off his blood, sweat and sacrifice, feeding on his gullibility and past vulnerabilities. Like the Bonnacles of the high Seas, she had just clawed herself onto Nick in a hard-to-break grip, establishing parasitic tubes through which she fed her desires using unrealistic demands.
Through a carefully choreographed scheme that involved her own Mother Jerusa, and her best friend Melody of Namulungu mixed secondary school, she had managed to weave a sophisticated web of deceit, blackmail, conspiracies, threats and manipulations that permanently trapped Nick in never ending circles of mental health instabilities.
She knew the pattern of his schedules, planned his travels, meetings, Hotel accommodation and every other thing. On most occasions, she could turn up uninvited at meetings, in the disguise of checking up on Nick. By virtue of her position, Diana had free access to Nick’s inner life. She had access to his phone, his contacts, his email and all social media handles. His world shrunk. Diana decided who to be spoken to, when and for what purpose. Controlling.
Nick, through his lawyer, obliged. He settled Diana’s demands without much resistance. His only asking was for an official non-disclosure agreement so as to safeguard his job, reputation, marriage and family. His lawyer drafted one, and it was dully signed. He sighed a sigh of relief. He had managed it, so he thought.
Back at work, Nick moved swiftly to re-assign Diana to a new duty station away from his office. He wanted her moved to a different department. He wanted her to go on maternity leave. He wanted her replaced by someone else as a personal assistant. Diana felt that Nick was edging her out. She resisted. She wanted to dictate terms. She wanted to suggest who takes her space all-be-it temporarily, as she went on maternity. It was contentious. Nick was gutted. Shifting of goal posts.
One morning, Nick received an unsettling message from Melody-Diana’s best friend. It was a message of new demands. “I have official contacts of your board directors. I also have your wife’s contacts. I also need settlement, 3.5 million kshs to be precise, non-negotiable. If I don’t, I will be bringing them up to speed with this issues, including the settlement you did with Diana. When you settled her, she and her Mother short-changed me. Indeed, Birds of the same Feathers flock together.
Nick was saddened. She forwarded the message to Diana, Diana’s mother and his lawyer. He had run out of money. He did not have trusted friends who could help intervene and stop this extortions. It did not help matters that Diana had shared every detail of his situation-ship with Nick with her friend Melody. She had essentially set Nick up for a fresh slaughter in a different abbortouor. The situation became more delicate, time was running out. The pattern was repeating.
Indeed when Nick did not compensate Melody as she had demanded, on her terms, true to her threats, she went ahead to share the whole information with Nick’s wife, directors at his work place and other colleagues despite a legal non-disclosure agreement that was binding Nick, Diana, Jerusa-Diana’s Mother and Melody. Kufa dereva, kufa makanga.
Nick sunk into depression. His marriage had been ruined. His job was on the line. His reputation had sunk. When Nick tried to call his wife back in Finland, she did not respond to his calls or texts. Later on, Nick discovered through her daughter that his wife had lined up a divorce, and was planning to re-locate with the children to England.
The board had called an emergency meeting to institute disciplinary measures against him. He was eventually placed on interdiction and served a show-course why letter. His entitlements and benefits were stopped. He was asked not to report to work but to rather work from home pending the outcome of the process.
Out of work, out of marriage, out of family, out of character, out of finances. Life lost its meaning. Beyond salvaging.
That evening, the media reported one more death. A leading corporate expatriate had jumped to his death from the 8th floor of his high end apartment in Kilimani area of Nairobi, Kenya. The good expatriate had committed suicide after hitting a dead end in trying to atone for the misgivings of love and promiscuity that he had engulfed himself into in the hands of unforgiving daughters of Jezebel.
Nick Imudia had traded manipulation, threats, deceit, blackmail, blatant extortion and conspiracies on the Alter of personal sacrifice. He irrigated his sins by his own blood.
When the spirit of lust obstinately refuses to vacate the premises, the outcome is Mauti.
Mental health had consumed yet another iconic victim, or was it Diana, in cohort with her Mother-Jerusa and her friend Melody of Namulungu Mixed Secondary school?
Indeed, a Man must die of something.
Samia Echoes 