Okwan

Everybody knows Okwan.

You’d be a fool not to when you reside in Kisumu for where else in this sunny city would you get the best pilau and beef stew? There are things about Okwan that the world does not know like how she had to leave her husband’s house at 2am for fear that her brains would be splattered all over their sitting room wall. Or how the neighbors, Mama Peace and her household kept their doors locked even as she wailed long into the night. They don’t know that in running to avert a blow, she had lost not one, or two but three unborn children all the while being taunted by her in-laws whose wives kept popping children out of their wombs like defecating goats.

However, there are things about Okwan that matter to people in Kisumu like opening the restaurant from Monday to Saturday as early as 6:30am. People also want her to pick up their calls and remember what they had for lunch two days ago, because the usual is not a guarantee in her restaurant.

One thing is certain this is not just about Okwan, but it begins with her.

“Would you hire me?”Okwan laughed.

She laughed so hard that the fat under her arms danced as her chest heaved up and down. The people around her turned to look but what they could see was Okwan and a young woman. The woman’s skin glowed like the darkest of nights and she had the kind of figure that fit in every piece of clothing. She was wearing blue jean trousers and a white chiffon blouse. Her face was as smooth and soothing as her smile. She stood until Okwan turned to her and said, “No.”

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