A friend of mine had been saving in order to buy himself a nice car. He had done his homework well on which car to buy, and from where. Dubai was not a good option nowadays. It was batter to import directly from Japan. He had kept this as a secret even from his wife.

The car was to cost 5000 dollars. He had the money, but in Kenya shillings. After consulting his bankers, he thought the exchange rate they offered him was too low, so he opted to withdraw the Kenya shillings and buy the dollars from the black market venders.  

Back to the bank, it was too late to do the transactions, so he had to go home with the 5000 dollars in his pocket and send it the next day. He left early for home. 5000 dollars in his pocket was quite a scare, when he had to use a matatu and this was during pre-michuki era.

He arrived safely at the matatu terminus, but as he walked home, right at the gate to his house, he was attacked by three very dirty looking young men who pretended to be collecting garbage outside his gate!! In their hurry, they felt the bulge on the jacket pocket, relieved him of it and run away! He stayed there for a while, dazed at the speed of the robbery. He had just lost 5000 dollars to some dunderheads who did not even know the value of dollars.

The next stop would obviously be to the nearest police station. Here, he reported the case, as a procedure, not expecting much help from the police. He was lucky that his wallet was left intact in his trouser pocket. While he was recording his statement at the OB desk, there was this old man with tattered clothes who was walking around aimlessly and mingling with those who were seeking help. The policemen did not show any notice of this old man, and my friend dismissed him as another homeless residing in the police compound.

After making the report, I decided to buy him one. After a few more, he also felt the need to buy a round, and that is when he noticed his wallet was missing!! Then it hit him! His whole salary was gone!! The dirty old man at the station! As we watched him, his phone rung. It was his wife cautioning him not to over drink, because the landlord was waiting in the house. He looked at me. ‘Steve, who showed the devil the map to my house today? I dint know how to answer that, so I told him a story.

In the bush, an impala was drinking in the river. A crocodile slithered under the muddy water, but just as the croc was about to strike, the impala literally jumped across the river and into the bush on the other side of the river. Safe? Not yet! A lion sleeping in the shade noticed the commotion and made his attack. But the impala did not give up easily. As fast as he could, he run out of the bushes to a clearing near the river. There, four cheetahs were drinking. The impala bumped into them head on, and he had no way to escape. He gave up.