Wambui wa Roe

CHAPTER 3. KITAA

Racing down Mathare Valley, I contemplated how to replace the T-shirt I had taken from the big boys. I sensed misfortune looming that day.James, the neighborhood tough guy, and I, though initially at odds, became friends. He was a year older, wiser, and stronger, but I held the advantage in speed, a trump card in our occasional fights.As I crisscrossed the bridge towards Madari Valley, James, spotting me, decided to sneak up. "What are you doing here?" he questioned."Going to the river," I replied. "I'm going to swim. What else?"Our banter continued, with playful jabs about friends and intentions. When I mentioned meeting someone by the river, James, intrigued, debated whether it was a friend or a "friend.""Stop with the nonsense. I'm meeting someone," I declared, inviting him to follow."But you won't snitch on me, right?" he asked, revealing a fear of his mother's disciplinary measures."I won't if you won't," I assured him. James, familiar with his mother's threats, reluctantly agreed.Later that day, as we swam and exchanged jokes, I revealed a mysterious find – a black, shiny shell with peculiar properties.As evening approached, the river buzzed with activity. Women washed clothes, children played, and older kids fished. I instructed James to wait, promising something unusual.As bubbles surfaced in the water, curiosity heightened. Poking at the dark waters with a stick, we witnessed shiny eyes emerging, and a voice spoke – the voice behind the shell.Living under the water, she promised to show us her world. Terrified yet intrigued, we questioned her existence. She urged us to trust her, instructing a ritual with the shell. As we chanted, our faces morphed, and we found ourselves submerged in the river."Follow me. I'll tell you everything," she said, and we followed the mysterious voice into the depths of the river.