“Help! Help us please!” A woman was screaming in my dream until the screaming got so loud that it woke me up. My mother was screaming for help. It was around 2 a.m in the morning and there were about two male voices shouting at my mother to keep quiet.
“You better keep quiet or else I will use this knife,” one of the male voices ordered. “Okay, I will be quiet,” my mother replied, and a minute later go back to her screaming, “someone please help us!”
My father, on the other hand, tried screaming too but his hoarse voice could never beat my mother’s African distress voice. It was good he was at least supportive of the idea.
A loud bang hit our bedroom door, and the first thing I did was hold my breath, as I hoped they would not see or hear me.
My plan clearly failed me seven seconds later.
Tipsy scattered very fast from my grip to save herself, as a normal cat would do. I always slept with my cat, she was my best friend. The thieves first went after our house help who was sleeping across from the double-decker my brother and I shared.
“Where is the money? Tell us where all the money is kept!” One of the thieves asked her. I peeped from under my blanket to see what was happening. She had her arms held high and in a squeaky voice, she replied “I don't know, please, believe me, I don’t know.”
After a fruitless back and forth the thief let her go and told her to cover herself as he rushed to unplug the iron box. He was dressed in a uniform similar to that of the military.
All this time my brother was still so deeply asleep. The thief in our room then left to go back to where my parents were, and in about five minutes, they left with most of our electronics.
My mother came rushing to our room to check on us, and she couldn’t help but laugh when she realized my brother slept through the whole fiasco, and still soundly slept when neighbours came flocking into the house as they all wanted to know who had just been robbed and what was taken. In an estate, gossip is inevitable.
We later learnt that most tenants had been robbed shortly after moving into the neighbourhood. It was a rude welcome for us - just after we had celebrated our migration from my father’s home in the village to join him in his city dwelling.
At least no one got hurt, and I got to be the television for the rest of the week. I would go sit where the TV was, pretending to be Chuck Norris or Makoha from Vioja Mahakamani.
My cat survived, we were still best friends, and I would still have her in my bed every night for as long as she lived. The house help left immediately the sun shone and she never came back. She didn’t even ask for payment as she knew it was all gone.
We laugh about it today, but short laughs as we wouldn’t want it happening again.
