The infamous Aston Villa, home base to illustrious members of the village such as Uwesmake, Vuja De, Upepo and many others. The only three-storied, wooden, five-star pubbrothel east of Nairobi, located in the neighborhood that never sleeps.
Aston villa consists of three floors. The ground floor is is a tiny hovel, dark and mostly silent, for the old geezers who like to take their Jug Daniels in peace. Straight ahead, there is a very narrow, rickety staircase that can’t fit two people at a go. One person has to give way, if you meet in opposing directions. The staircase takes a right turn and leads to the top floor, where the main pub is. Midway up the stairs, there is the “mezzanine floor” to the left, which contains the toilets and rooms for slice-eating. The top floor is more lively, frequented by the youths, who flock around the pool tables and TV screens. One thing I have never figured out is how they managed to get the pool tables to the top floor.
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My first month after kulipwa na muhindi, I was so excited to finally start real life, living on my own. After a few hours of house hunting, I found a suitable one, not too far from the road, so I wouldn’t have to skip too many puddles of matope on the way to job. Those days I wasn’t a bigwig, so the only room I cold afford was one on the ground floor, a permanently dark and damp single room. (Nowadays room yangu iko 8th floor, karibu na choo, so ni kama bedsitter). I promptly paid the deposit and rent for two months, did some quick shopping; 3 inch matress, bucket, blanket, etc.
Jioni, I was to meet with my workmate Muthinja. Kufika Aston Villa, I was given a baptism of fire. After navigating the stairs to the top floor, I accidentally knocked over someone’s mug of Jug Daniels. Before I could even utter an apology, nilikuwa nimeshikwa mashati by the mug owner, and a couple of his boys were advancing. Luckily, Muthinja had spotted me, and saved me from a beating. I had to buy a mug refill to settle it all. After sitting down kwa meza ya Muthinja, he burst out laughing, and explained that it was an old trick used by those guys: They would strategically place a mug (when the drink is almost finished) at the edge of the table, and wait for newcomers like me to topple it, then demand for a refill.
So, after concluding business with Muthinja (he had organised for an Ideos phone, probably stolen), it was time for Jug Daniels and watching football. The night went on, and after a few jugs and visits to the loos, the slice-sellers started looking more and more attractive. The loos are strategically placed at the far end of the hallway, such that you pass between lines of slice-sellers. Hizo Jug Daniels made me too enthusiastic, talking too much and touching all of them. I picked one yellow yellow momo who had been groping me every time I passed the hallway. My dry spell was going to end na fujo.
The rooms are mabati-walled. Kuingia room, I quickly got down to business, taking off my brand new Simbaland boots and jeans and placing them on the bed. Hiyo kitu nilikamua kweli kweli, nikitingisha kiuno kama belt ya posho mill. The momo was very encouraging, puffing and moaning all through. When I was approaching climax, I felt the mabati wall rustling, and something sliding over my feet. The momo felt me hesitate, and assured me that it was probably a mouse, nothing to worry about. After kumwaga, I turned over to get my jeans and shoes, ndio nikapigwa na butwaa; they were nowhere to be seen. My Ideos, Simbalands and entire month’s rent! Kumbe they stole from people by pushing open a gap in the mabati and snatching your valuables. The momo must have slithered away as I stood there, dazed. Lucky her, because I would have strangled her. Now I had to go home wearing only a shirt, boxers and socks.
Nilitoka kama shepart imekunja mkia, watu wakicheka sana. It was a very long walk home. Lucky for me, I usually hide my key kwa socks, and I had already paid rent for two months.
It was a long time before I stepped into Aston Villa again.