EssayStoryJournalBook reviewReflectionResearchLetterPoemMemoir1,560 words8 min readAutosave enabledSoon three figures ran down Banda Street past the Sarova Stanley hotel, briskly crossing the road, right ahead where stood a particularly impressive building with an ornate multistoried facade of marble columns, graceful statues, and stately blocks of gray-white stone, a cool summary of the prestigious Hilton hotel. They heightened their pace past the alley to the Kencom building as gun shots went off behind them with a huge crowd running aimlessly on the streets. The noise rose steadily in volume, like buried, restless thunder with the ominous trembling growing louder and louder. For decades now, Nairobi which had been founded in 1899 by the colonial authorities in British East Africa as a rail deport on the Uganda railway, had transformed from a simple town with merely a million inhabitants into a vast metropolis teeming with more than four million people, positioning itself as the second largest city by population in the African Great Lakes region after Dar es Salaam. In the dark alleys along the lane, a pair of dogs and a couple of street urchins hungrily dug through garbage in search of edible scraps, as they did every night. They half-heartedly snarled at each other, too hungry to notice the mysterious sounds. As they were still pacing as fast as they could, Laurent noticed some banana peels on the ground a bit later after stepping on them and being sent sprawling down on the ground with a loud thud. She couldn’t help but scream due to the sharp pain that was instantly registered by the brain. She did not seem to be in a hurry to get up, hence, the other ladies had no choice but to squat next to her trying to figure out if there was any open wound or something serious that could negatively impact on their escape mission. There were a few people now on the street and they risked being seen if they were to stand and run. Thus, they remained squatting on the ground next to a trash can where the dogs were now approaching from across the road. One of the dogs lifted its head and pricked his ears, while the second dog used the opportunity to seize a rank-smelling fish head from the trash can and bounded away with its prize. Then it, too, paused, whining. Its jaws opened and the moist fish head fell to the slick street. The rumble grew more ominous, a different sort of growl. Two policemen now raced down the street with two guns held up in the air but immediately turned right around the Teriyaki joint at the corner of the building that stood opposite the International house. The three ladies let out loud sighs of relief as they tried to now relax and prepare to dash straight for the cab that Laurent had mentioned would still be waiting for her, as she had convinced the cab driver to wait for her. She had attempted to call the driver thrice but wasn’t picking up. ‘Probably he has just fallen asleep,’ she thought. She now felt sorry for the poor chap who had had to wait for hours, as it was now approaching three o’clock in the morning. The two dogs now snarled at the soft sounds from the ladies who sat nearby and then they scuttled away in fear. The second mutt doubled back to snatch up the fish head, then sprang down the alley just as another gun shot that reached an explosive roar was heard, this time two more police officers sprout from nowhere and were heading in their direction. “You know what? We are so dead like literally” Keisha muttered as Laurent tried to shake off the dust that settled in her long, blonde hair after the accident. Apparently the horror of being caught had succumbed the pain to a greater extent than she could have imagined prior to the incident. ‘God, we need a damn miracle, it's about bloody time,’ she thought. Suddenly, a dark brick wall at the opposite end of the alley split and broke as something huge, black, and mechanical hammered its way up from beneath the streets, knocking bricks and timbers apart. Walls that surrounded the building now fell, brushed aside as if they were little more than dust and dry leaves. The driver of the huge machine could not be seen but anyone could only try to imagine how much tons the vehicle actually weighed. Both dogs ran for their lives as the two police officers now came closer. ‘How in the hell is this a miracle?’ Laurent murmured to herself. Keisha and Martha were now uncontrollably shaking as they held onto one another. So this was it. She now missed her brother, Randy, more than she ever thought possible; especially now when these could be her last moments. At that very point, she realized how overrated life really was, as seen by the huge difference between what people worked for and what they actually lived for. ‘Maybe if she gave up herself willingly, her friends’ lives would be spared,’ she thought. However, before she could put her thoughts to action, the policeman on the right was already speaking as the monstrous vehicle came to a halt a few meters from them ‘So ladies would you mind telling us what happened, cause we know for a fact that you were at the Tribeka lounge tonight’. After Keisha’s narration, the policemen seemed perplexed as they stared down her pants probably due to the left out part. Where she had actually pissed on herself. Before any of them could say anything, the less talkative officer on the left received a phone call and his answers seemed to be in some sought of code as they couldn’t cipher what his responses actually meant except for his partner who kept nodding. ‘So, how do you know that we were at Tribeka?’ now it was Laurent’s time to gather answers. The two policemen exchanged looks before the talkative one responded with a bit of attitude ‘we work at Mojo’s as security personnel. You know, to ensure people have peaceful time and no chaos. And yea before you ask, we are also police officers’. The three ladies exchanged a we-are -so-screwed looks as they awaited for whatever the officers had in store for them, owing to the waiter’s warnings. From the archives building, a tank vehicle plated with thick iron sheets riveted into place on a body that rode on implacably paired tracks with glaring headlamps that shone forward like the baleful gaze of a dragon. Its reinforced bow slammed like a battering ram through the entrance, knocking it down without pause. The heavy treads crushed fallen bricks into powder. "Get out of the way, you fool!" the waiter shouted from the vehicle as he made for the other huge machine that now sprang into life a few meters from where the officers and the ladies stood. Instead of getting out of the way fast, the talkative officer stopped in his tracks trying to now dare the driver to hit him, being the guy in uniform. But the vehicle did not slow down, the waiter tried to dodge into the left of the torn down wall, but the lumbering vehicle filled the narrow way with the other extremely and dauntingly large vehicle on the opposite side. The officer was caught in between the treads and went down. His scream was cut short with a wet, squelching sound under the increasing roar of the demonic engines. The tank kept moving onward, without a pause. The ladies were now screaming on top of their lungs as they witnessed one hell of a scene. Sickened and angry, the less talkative officer ran to his comrade for aid but was too late; he was already unresponsive with his eyes and mouth agape. The most nauseating image to look at. Now the two machines were crushing head-on with each having the desire to eliminate the other. A small crowd was beginning to form around them. The officer still struggled to keep himself together while putting his partner in a dignified way by closing his eyelids and mouth. The ladies had a chance to now escape, until the driver of the other vehicle revealed himself. It was the psycho. Laurent had a billion questions to ask the guy, but the fight seemed to have just began and would only end with either of them dead or both. She tried the cab driver but her call was now directed to voicemail. The waiter was now urging them to run as fast as they could to the police headquarters along Moi Avenue just opposite the Nairobi Railways, where they could get help and protection. This sounded like the big miracle they had all been waiting for. 'Screw the answers,'Laurent thought; though if this had taken place in another lifetime probably she would have taken the red pill to discover how deep the rabbit hole went. They all took off relieved. “You see, wasn’t so hard to play good-cop-bad-cop after all,” the waiter shouted to the psycho as they brought their machines to a halt in front of the crowd. “Yea, right. I better call Mr. Njoroge to offer them a means of transport to their homes,” the psycho added sarcastically as he made to call Sir Kelvins. Mission accomplished.