Mzee Ajabu

                                    

                                          
The burial took place in Mzee Ajabu's village in Nakuru. Later the villagers would dub it the black weeding because more than anything it was a feast. Mama Wairimu had gone out of her way to hire Lee Funeral services, the most luxurious funeral home in the country. The hearse was in a long black limo followed closely by two dark range Rovers. Wairimu, Kitana and Olivia sat in one and Mama Wairimu and her son Fred sat in the other.
                          
Olivia had been discharged for a day. She was getting better although you couldn't tell. She had bouts where she stared at the roof of the car and mummered the name, Zawadi. Then in the blink of an eye her tongue was tied in knots and she couldn't put together two coherent sentences. If she wanted something, she pointed at it. At the moment she was amusing herself with Kitana's tie. Her eyes growing wide as if she had never seen a tie before.  
                          
Kitana was dressed in a black suit, a black shirt and black tie with thin white lines. Wairimu was in a black dress, black boots, dark shades and a grey chupalla with a white ribbon. They made quite the couple with Kitana. Olivia was in a long dark dera. The doctors had told Wairimu that loose clothes were good for her. They made her feel free. Tight ones made her feel confined and they easily triggered her into hallucinations and self-harming. That was a place no one wanted to revisit.  
                          
Half of Ajabu Digital colleagues were there. The new corporate friends that Wairimu had made together with Kitana's friends. Wairimu found herself crying uncontrollably when the casket was going down. Every encounter with her dad suddenly flashing in front of her eyes. Kitana gave her the white handkerchief that was sequestered in his suit's coat and rubbed her back without saying anything.  
                          
Olivia was in her own world chasing a butterfly in amusement. Fred and Mama Wairimu looked relaxed with a self-satisfied look on their face. It was something Kitana took note of. He didn't trust them one bit and why should he? When they had shown up at the verge of Wairimu's coronation only to yank the mat from under her feet with the announcement of Mzee Ajabu's death? Something did not seat right and it was in that way that he decided to engage the services of a detective.