Ndirangu and the Monster

He stood in the middle of the farm, motionless like a statue. His eyes couldn’t blink. They were fixed on the horizon, many miles away, and so was his mind. He was buried in thoughts, so deep you would think he was sleeping while standing or he was a scarecrow made by a fine artist.

The wind blew against him trying to force him to sit, but he couldn't move. The sun tried to burn him to move him into a shadow, he still couldn't move. He stood still. They gave up and sought the help of a human. She came to their rescue and called him in a soft whisper,

“Ndirangu!”

At first, he didn’t hear it. She called again,

“Ndirangu!”

He heard it this time but his mind was still on a journey. He would need a few seconds for his mind to reunite with the rest of his body.

Once they agreed to act as a team, he turned his head. You could now tell the difference between him and a scarecrow. His eyes could see, but they didn't see her. She called a third time,

“Ndirangu!”

That’s when his body fully activated. He looked back to see who was calling. He walked towards her, slowly, as if freezing from winter cold, wondering if she had noticed that he was absent for some minutes. It would be embarrassing.

Wangeci was not a familiar face in the village. Just like Ndirangu, she had just returned from the city. Her story was partly similar to his; they both blamed the monster.

She shared her story with Ndirangu; two kids brought home, the husband calling it over. Yeah, partly similar. Ndirangu shared his with her. It was purely the monster's fault. That's what he told her.

The two continued with small talk. Catching up after many years of being away. Sharing the ups and downs of their life experiences. Finding comfort in each other's stories. Finally, she told him what she had come for; assistance in finding a job. The one thing Ndirangu was dying to get. And yes, their stories were partly similar.

****

Ndirangu was a hunter and a dreamer. He would hunt for jobs all the time and he would dream of a better life.

Currently, his hunting skills proved to be useless and his dreams kept growing longer and longer. Had Wangeci not awaken him from his statue status, he would still be dreaming.

He reflected on his past and his present. Based on those variables, the future looked dark and scary. He could not believe what life had done with him. Some of his dreams came true only to be quashed.

He recalled a dream he had many years ago. It had given him hope. A sign that he would make it. But things were not working out well. He wondered if it meant anything.

He was very happy the day he got that hotel job. He had waited for so long to get it. Finally, it was his. A dream come true. As an accountant, he would wear suits. They made him stand out. He even respected himself. That was way back when he lived in the city.

This time he had a different story to tell. One that made him question all his dreams. One that would be told to little children to scare them. To replace the ogre stories told by ancestors. The greatest monster of modern days. How it threatened the brave and the prominent. Chewing them one by one. Making people hide in their houses. Afraid to come out. For the monster roamed everywhere.

Ndirangu was a good employee. When he was handling the accounts, not even a penny got lost. His boss had once told him that he was the best employee the hotel had. Now, he could not believe how easily he was let go. It wasn’t his fault. Neither was it his boss’s. It didn't matter. He wasn't the only one who lost.

After three months of being jobless, life in town had become unbearable. Using the little money he had left, he hired a truck to carry his belongings to the village, his former residence, and now his new residence.

****

Ndirangu helped Wangeci with what she needed; computer skills to apply for a new job. Ndirangu got what he was looking for. In fact, it came too easily. Only that it wasn't what he preferred. A job at a construction site. From suits to rags. A fifth of his former salary. What about the respect he had for himself? Even if he could kill it, how could he endure a day at the construction site?

The future had to start from somewhere. So he took the job. It was just as he had imagined. Hard and risky. A bag of cement on Ndirangu's shoulders reminded him of the Israelites slavery in Egypt. He did not consider himself any better. He never understood why hard work had to be done in such a hurry.

He would dread the risk he faced at the construction site. His fingers suffered the most. The inexperienced hands holding a hammer would miss the nail and hit the fingers. They would be crushed between rocks and bruised by rough walls of incomplete buildings. He learned how to climb a ladder carrying a stone on his shoulder. He thought of the many ways he could be injured - from stepping on a nail to falling off the ladder - they must have been a thousand.

He got a few scars from the site that would provide evidence to his grandchildren while telling them a story of the great monster.

Mondays were the worst of all days. He would constantly yawn and keep checking his watch. Lunchtime would give him a break, but it took centuries to come. He looked forward to the closing time and would not dare extend his working hours even for a second.

Sundays were his favorite. He could rest and spend his hard-earned money. He wished Sundays would last forever. But they didn't, and the cycle continued.

****

Ndirangu always had a picture of himself hanging on the wall. It reminded him of the good start he had in life. A symbol that he could conquer anything. Another dream that had come true. That picture never bothered him until this time. He looked at it differently. It made no sense. Wearing a graduation gown and a big smile on his face. He remembered the party they had the night he graduated. His mind had told him that he had conquered the world. It had lied. He could no longer trust it. He took the picture from the wall and hid it in a box full of other stuff. The monster was crushing all his dreams.

Day after day, he continued to toil. He watched Wangeci struggle to find a job and raise her two kids alone. He wondered if he would ever get his own kids. He wasn't married. That was his other dream. He had a girlfriend in the city whom he described as a gold-digger. He was no longer the gold mine he used to be. He called it over.

One night after supper, he went to bed and said a silent prayer. "God, if you are there, give me a sign, help me make it through." Then he had a dream. He was working in a hotel. Sitting on a fancy chair, elevated above other chairs with a crown on his head. Next to him sat a beautiful woman wearing a white wedding dress. People surrounding him, giving him all the attention. He was happy in the dream. He had everything he wanted.

He remembered having the same dream many years ago. It must have meant something. It was not just a dream; it was the sign he was looking for. It gave him hope. He even started appreciating his work at the construction site. The Covid-19 monster had killed all his dreams. But he never gave up. He believed in dreams. Even dead dreams could resurrect. He did it the first time, he could do it again.