Welcome to Kenya (Part Real-Life Kenya)

Sometimes, when you are in a foreign country, or even when you are at home, bad things happen. Once you have dealt with the consequences, it is important to stay strong and move one. Sometimes it helps to write a poem in rhyming couplets and post it on your blog when you finally get adequate computer access and also apologize to all your followers for leaving them in the lurch. So that is what I intend to do:

Evening was falling and no worries were found.
All through the Sanana Hotel, hakuna matata abound.
Just returning from aerobics for a well-deserved shower,
I pulled out my watch to glance at the hour.

Seven-thirty, I'd been gone a mere 45 minutes or so.
Now hot from the gym, I'd turn the AC temperature low.

I unlocked my door and went for a drink.
But something distracted me on the way to the sink.

My wallet, which I had filled with bill-paying cash
was empty and I looked around the room in a dash.

My  purse too was open and pens strewn around.
Then I realized my computer was not to be found.

Out into the hallway I went in a rush.
"Jane! Jane!" I called at my colleague's door; this was no time to be hushed.

No answer though I rattled the knob and banged on the door.
So I returned to my room and I'll admit it, I swore.

Back in my room, cameras and iPods were found missing too.
But, luckily, my passport remained, my way home, bound in blue.

Still worried and upset, I tried to call Jane again.
This time, I heard her respond, "I'm downstairs, come friend!"

I ran down the stairs and cried, "I've been robbed, Jane!"
"My computer's gone too," she said, "A thief came."

While front-desk Jane called the police, we recounted our day
to try to sort out how things had ended this way.

I had gone to pay my bill, 20,000 kenyan shillings.
Front-desk Jane said "Go swim while I sort our your billings."

So coworker Jane and I went for a swim in the pool
while a bearded man drinking a beer watched us from his bar stool.

After our swim, we went to change for the gym
for the aerobics class at the hotel we were both in.

At aerobics, we punched and kicked and jumped off the floor,
and once, instructor Alex answered a knock at the door.

That was all I knew, then I returned to my room.
But the others knew more, as I would find out soon.

Front-desk Jane said, "I think I know that bearded man.
He checked in today with some friends and I wasn't really a fan.

"They paid upfront all in cash and gave no ID.
They asked for a room upstairs and wanted to see.
The only one room apartment was the one between the other two.
I told him that as he tried to open the doors that belong to you."

And now I remembered, I'd heard some noise in room 113.
I had thought nothing of it, but they had staked me out it seems.

"He had seemed suspicious," front-desk Jane went on,
"And carried a black college bag up under his arm."

Alex chimed in, "I remember a strange man too.
He came to my class. He must have been checking on you."

Jane and I had been targeted and followed around
by the bearded men and his friends, I realized and frowned.

They had chosen us as prey but somethings were still unclear.
I had my key with me all day. I'm sure it always was near.

A master key, I was told, must have done the trick.
You can open any door and get in and out quick.

This case of check-in and rob happens in hotels a lot.
And it's very rare that anyone ever gets caught.

The Kenyan police had arrived by this time.
They told us to repeat our stories, line for line.

There was a head officer, who asked questions quite brusquely,
and a few women officers, who carried semi-automatics and batons quite casually.

In Kenya, they speak English, but Swahili's preferred.
So I had to speak very slowly and they still missed my words.
"They stole 20,000," I said, "in Kenyan cash notes"
"1000?" "No, 20,000." "1000," the policeman wrote.

We all told our stories to the officers in blue.
Then a green-clad detective arrived and wanted to hear them too.

The night became very long, but at least I wasn't alone.
My other colleagues came and my boss, and I borrowed his phone.

I had emailed my parents and cancelled my credit cards.
Now I called my mom and told her "Don't be too alarmed.
Seureca is taking care of me and I'm okay after all.
I'll stay here in Kenya. This is just a stumble, not a fall."

My co-worker William reminded me, "At least you weren't harmed.
After all, with that funny black bag, those men were probably armed."

Things could have been much worse if I had got in their way.
After all, a computer is replaceable but a life cut short can't be saved.

Everyone discussed in Swahili the crime that occurred
while I sat on the floor and didn't understand what I heard.

Finally, after many hours, I was sent off to sleep.
And by 8am on Saturday, I was back on my feet.

To Nyali Police Station I went and my story retold,
recorded my statement and left the robbery for the police to unfold.

That was some time ago, 12 days to be exact
and above you can find most of the facts.
Now I'm settling back down in Mombasa in a new hotel
and I'm sure that the rest of this summer will turn out well.

So I hope you've enjoyed my story. It's all quite true. And now I'm stuck rhyming in couplets. I don't know what to do.  It was an experience which helps to make me strong. And, don't worry, I'll add more blog posts, maybe the next in the form of a song.