TO YOU WITH LOVE

His unjustified Death

SCHOLAR MILLEN
 *****

*****

Dear Licepo,

“Today, we lay our son, brother, and friend to rest…,” Said the priest. I
tuned his voice out as I turned to look at my mother whose eyes were red from
crying. She looked so sad that at the time, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find
a trace of the loud, ever smiling woman that raised us. I sigh because I understand
that she thinks it’s all her fault. If you ask how I came to this conclusion, well, I
overheard her tell Aunty Linet that if only she hadn’t fallen ill that night, Martin
would still be alive. I disagree with mama. Martin didn’t have to die that night but
from what we all saw, regardless of whether mama fell ill or not, this would have
happened to him eventually. I mean, you too would agree with me if I told you what
happened that night.

**********

1
 *******
Last Thursday, my brother Martin and I made our way to our mother’s house in
Kasarani for the weekly family dinner. Like every other Thursday, I met him at the
Thika road mall (TRM). I don't know about Martin, but I was excited about eating
a decent homemade meal for the first time that week.
At exactly 8 P.M we walked into our mother’s one bedroom apartment.

“Mato, kwani kuna msichana anakupa stress, mbona

hunoni?”
Mama said, no, more like yelling. Mama yelled her greeting the moment she opened
the door. She looked us up and down then pulled us into one big hug.

“Ai mum.” Martin whispered, making me laugh.

Martin never lacked answers except when it came to engaging with our mother in
her constant bunter. Anyway, two hours later, when the ugali and fish she made
were all devoured and the sarcastic remarks delivered to her sons had hit home, it was
finally time to go to bed, or rather, time for our mother to go to bed. Her advanced
age of fifty-eight and the amount of work she does alternatingly at her two
minimarts weigh on her and she prefers to sleep early. My brother and I still had

2
some catching up to do away from her prying ears, so we didn’t set up on the sofa
sets yet.

Moving on swiftly. It was all good as we watched her hum on her way to the
bedroom until she doubled over next to the door frame.
“Mum” Martin was the first to jump from the
seat while I sat, speechless, mouth silently opening and closing as I stared at my
mum’s right hand pressed tightly on her chest. I would tell you what we said or did
as we panicked but the next thing I remember is being in Martin’s old-gen Toyota
Corolla, holding onto mama who was wheezing and looking like she would pass out
at any time. Martin glanced at us through the driving mirror and accelerated but
three minutes later he slowed down and parked on the roadside.

“Mato, we can’t waste time, why did you stop?”

Before he could give me an answer, a police officer knocked on the window and I
sighed. Luck was really not our side that day.
“Toka kwa gari, unajua masaa ya curfew imepita?”
Martin smiled while getting out of the car as instructed by the young officer.
“Officer, najua it’s past curfew, but I am taking my
mother to the hospital.”
I listened to Martin explain and then watched as he switched the car keys from his
right to left hand and put his right hand inside the open car window. Suddenly, a
gunshot rang out and I couldn’t help but wonder what the unlucky person had
done.

“Mar... Martin…” My mother wheezed, her eyes

wide open and that is when I turned to look at Martin slumped across the open
window, his bottom half outside while the top half was inside. His back was
beginning to look bloody. He was the unlucky person? But why?

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 “Hapa ni Nairobi, huyu kijana anaweza kuwa
anakudanganya.”
I heard a policeman say as he approached and I knew there and then that, that is the
one that shot my brother.
“Unaona kwanza nywele ni ndefu na hajachana,
anakaa mmoja wa wale tunatafuta wenye wanadunganga watu kisu kwa kona pale
mbele.”

I sneered and wondered if since this is Nairobi, everyone should be treated as a liar
who is up to no good and the fact that they didn’t comb their hair makes them a
criminal? While still wondering, my mother passed out in my arms, snapping me out
of my lake of thoughts. I looked at her and the wetness around her now closed eyes
was all it took to make me lose it. I was twenty-two at the time, had never dealt with
the police before but I did not care. All I knew was that I needed to get to a hospital,
or I would lose the two most important people in my life. I gently lay my mother on
the back seat and walked out of the car.
“Mose, huyo kijana hakuwa anadanganya.”
The young officer who was talking to my brother before said to his partner while
peeping in the back of the car. I looked at the two of them and saw the one that fired,
Mose, drown in a pool of shock and surprise. I had lots to say but no time. So I only
shook my head, sat my dying brother on the driver’s seat and drove to the hospital.
As I drove, I kept wondering what my brother had been trying to do and
remembering where I found his right hand, I would guess that he was trying to roll
down the windows to the back right side of the car but now, I suppose we can only
guess and never know for sure.

*******
It’s been a week since then and at the moment, Mama and I are at Martin’s burial
thus, it is understood that Martin did not make it and mama did survive. Lucky for
us, uhm, me, her chest pains were not a heart attack.

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 ******

******

“...the deceased’s family.” I hear as my brain returns

to the present and I have no idea what the priest is talking about but seeing my
mother, my uncles, aunties, and my cousins walk to the front, I follow suit and stand
next to my cousin Njeri. I look at her and she shakes her head, wiping what I assume
is a tear. I look at my shoes, a sad smile on my lips. Will we really not get justice for
his unjustified death?

After the entire ordeal, I reported what happened to the human rights office and
asked Njeri, who is also a police officer to help with making sure that the man that
shot my brother pays for his crimes. She has been willing, and I have watched her
fight every day.

“I gave the mandatory months’ notice yesterday.” She

whispers very close to my ear, and hands me an envelope. I look at it and gasp.

“You are resigning from the police force?”

She looks around us and puts a hand on her lips. I look at the envelope on my hand
again and shake my head. When Njeri shook her head before, I knew it meant that
her attempts at pushing for justice had been met with resistance. She knows the man
and it turns out that this wasn’t his first careless killing. I look at Njeri and shake my

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head. I mean, I knew it would be difficult but what did she see this past week that
pushed her to resign?

“What happened?”
I ask her and all I get in return is a shake of her head, and a soft,
“It’s hopeless.”

I don't know what happened but by the look on her face, that man may have been
transferred or acquitted in one way or another. I look at the people gathered and
begin to feel emotionally drained. This day was one that I had never imagined even
in passing. Suddenly, I can't take it anymore. I need only five minutes of quiet. Only
five. So, lost in thought, I walk away from the ceremony.

As I approach a tree, I can’t help but think that I have only seen wrongful police
killings on TV, twitter and on the newspapers but never have I imagined that one
day I would sit and witness one, and that too, of my brother. Will they ever stop?
Can something be done about them? For the sake of the citizens who are suffering,
will justice ever be served? I don’t know about all of that, but one thing I am certain
of, it is time to fight the unjustifiable killings by the police. It is time to fight for the
human right to life.

With love,
Feye