An accountant in his late
twenties leaves his office at the third floor of a busy building in the Nairobi
CBD. After such a day of rigorous stock-taking and final accounting in the
budding IT supplies company all he can think of is how to drown all the
pressure away ready for a new week. Clad in blue jeans, sneakers and a black
hood, he heads for the ATM right across Government Road, its end-month and his
employer ought to have met his obligations, he rarely is late anyway.
But on this day, luck is not on John’s
side. On entering his secret pass the machine unceremoniously reveals that his
week-long long overdraft is yet to be cleared. He fumbles for a moment cursing
his employer, before he chucks out the card and paces out of the booth, phone
in hand. There is no way this day was going to be ruined.
The call goes to one of his most
valued allies, Sue, the proprietor of a local dive ‘casino’ synonymous to the kind of gambling lads do here, tonight he
can only appear on the credit side of her books. His khat guy doesn't need a call, he’s well acquainted to differed
payments that he actually reserves a sizeable bunch for him every day.
Now leisurely sitting on the only
leather couch in casino ...
