Jaymo’s Inner Eye – Fiction by Kenyan Writer, Jeremy Leariwala

“Soon, soon and very soon, you’ll stand upright again…”

Going along with the current, Jaymo picked his way, through the crowded, windy streets of Hazina Estate. His intention was to reach his friend’s house. No sooner had the end-of-day bell gone off, than he had packed his assignments in a small backpack, now sitting on his back and hurried towards the gate of the school.

Moments later, he was on the streets. The busybodies jostling for space, as everyone minded their business, engulfed him. The noise of the place drowned him away from whatever had been tagging on his mind for the better part of the day.

He cast his eyes sideways and some deliciously plump, curvy bananas scoffed at him from a roadside stall. A few paces ahead and, from yet another stall, a stack of round, smooth and fleshy oranges gave him a teasing stare. He ignored them and kept moving. Then somewhere along the way, Jaymo stumbled, nearly colliding head-on with a vexed muscular man carrying an oversized sack of cabbages, going in the opposite direction.

‘There is some truth in the adage, “January signals the outcome of your year.” Isn’t it?’ Jaymo thought aloud before recovering from the shock. How much energy did he still have left, to dodge or confront the hazards lurking on the streets?

Fifteen minutes later, he went past Joyland Centre. The sight of its entrance rekindled memories of some good times he and his pals had therein. But two weeks into the year, Joyland was a ghost place. Pieces of the festoons that decorated its walls on the New Year ’s Eve, still dangled-flying in the wind, desperately courting freedom.

Ways past the social place, Jaymo made a bee-line into his friend’s house in a sluggish-weary pace, popping through the doorway like an apparition. Dante, a youthful salesman and Jaymo’s childhood buddy, was eager to receive him. The broad smile on his countenance spoke volumes. A pot, a ladle and a few other items on a small sink at the kitchenette area, had Jaymo wishing that Dante was just getting ready to start a fire to prepare supper.

“So, how is the going with the teaching internship and all?” Dante asked once they were settled.

Jaymo swallowed his coffee and secured the steaming cup back on the table.

“As I already hinted to you my friend,” Jaymo started saying. “Things are getting tougher each day.”

“But why? I thought…”

“I am afraid that this is going to be the hardest, toughest and difficult year!” Jaymo cut him short. Dante gave him a quick look, concerned that he might be wasted than he appeared.

“But Jaymo, we have just started the year…” Dante opined.

Jaymo took two quick sips from his cup. Little beads of sweat shone on his face reflecting the light from the bulb hanging on the ceiling of the bedsitter.

“It is going to be a disaster. January has turned out to be a mountain and I will starve to death even before my landlord decides to come knocking on my door.” He went on telling Dante all the reasons why he believed all was not well. The friend gave him the audience he deserved and refilled his cup once the coffee was consumed.

Just like old-time friends, they chatted freely, sharing their stories and beliefs on all that mattered to them. Dante bid his time until he was comfortable that he could deeply reach out to the troubled embers of Jaymo’s mindset.

“My guy Jaymo, please relax and know that man becomes what he thinks. For your information, January is just another Monday.”

“Another what?” Jaymo was puzzled.

“A week has seven days and Monday is one of them!” Said Dante.

“So?”

“Likewise, a year has twelve months,” Dante continued. “January is one of those twelve months!”

Jaymo was impatient…

“Just hit the nail. I’m f***** drained already!”

“Ha, ha, ha, haaa….” some ladies, Dante’s neighbours-probably, burst into laughter somewhere, outside.

“Ok, ok. My point is, anytime you party on a weekend, you’ll probably wake up with a serious hangover on Monday. The whole day would be hellish. By the end of it though, you’ll be fine, and Tuesday would not be a soo-bad sort of a day. Thus, having a bad-haired-day on Monday does not mean a ruined week!” Dante expounded.

“Go on, I’m listening!”

“Same way, just because we broke the bank, had a memorable party on the New Year’s Eve, and…” he threw a casual glance at Jaymo, here, before proceeding, “and you, slept with that gorgeous girl, ha, what was her name? Gosh, I can’t recall that beau…”

“Skip the name part…” Jaymo blurted out.

“Yes, yes, I was saying, just because you got her on the wee hours of New Year does not mean spending the rest of the nights of the year with a woman on your bed.”

“Well…”

“You are my buddy. We did what we did and we are paying for it, today. But just like we do every Monday…”

“We plan for next few days of the week!” Jaymo jumped in.

“Exactly!” An infectious smile escaped from Dante’s face.

***

Dante reached for a diary, from under a pile of unfolded, laundered garments. He opened it and showed Jaymo a page. Tabulated on it was his planner.

“Regardless of what you did over the weekend, the week will depend, mostly, on the way you prepare for it. How you plan for your year, to a higher extent, determines what will happen before the next Christmas.” Dante shared his philosophy.

“But this January, my friend…”

“Cheer up buddy! January is a Monday. The hangover will go away soon, soon and very soon! We’ll stand upright again!”

“Okay, thank you.” Jaymo finally sighed.

“I am focusing on my annual goals; setting sight on what matters and where I am headed. Not on the results of a few missteps of yesterday!”