Men with money do strange things to men who don't have money especially when or if they run in the same circles. A well grounded son of man will instantaneously turn into a complaisant, grovelling woose as soon as Mkubwa's number surfaces on his Chinese phone screen. It begins from when he picks up the call with both hands; oozingthe polite demeanour of say, a monk that hasn't seen other humans for years.
"Yes Mkubwa" is often followed by a series of slow, respectful nods or measured 'burahahahas' depending on the mood of the reverent being on the other side of the mouthpiece. You as the wife will be forgiven for thinking that he is speaking to the president and is about to be handed that githeriman status.
Upon securing the ever elusive meeting, Baba so and so will begin whistling triumphantly as he walks around the house like he has gained six vertical inches. On that day he will preside over his own wardrobe choices instead of waiting for Mama so and so to do it as he waits from the edge of the wooden bed. He will brush his teeth for longer than usual as he scrutinizes his face blemishes and razor bumps on the mirror. "This is a very important 'meeting' I am going for and I must look my best." Never mind that he has resisted vehemently each time his wife asked him to oil his chafed joints because he was beginning to resemble a reptile.
The same Baba so and so who was late to his own wedding will arrive at the proposed meeting point an hour earlier than the actual meeting time. Baba so and so lives in Rongai whereas mkubwa comes from nearby Kilimani the home of all things urban living and also wash wash. Mkubwa does not like late comers and that is why he arrives way before time. He does not want to risk being late. Depending on what his pockets look like he will order either a soda or a bottle of his favourite beer as he waits for mkubwa to show up in whatever guzzler he is driving.
Ordering nothing is not an option because Nairobi entertainment joints have very little patience for idle patrons. Before you can even sit on a chair with two buttocks, a waiter or a waitress will be towering over your frame with a menu; sizing you up and calculating you and your whole family's net worth.
Mkubwa will soon arrive with a small entourage; contrary to what he had discussed with Baba so and so on phone. What Baba so and so expected to be a private meeting with a former school mate has turned into an eight man rendezvous requiring two tables, extra chairs, more sheesha and more service. The waitress who was gawking at his soda order earlier becomes friendlier all of a sudden as she takes more orders with the help of yet another smiley lady colleague. Baba so and so is lucky because only one lady sits between him and Mkubwa thus they can make small talk with relatively little effort. The larger group comprises of of other yesmen and other weave donning lasses; all friends of Mkubwa. They are all there for the same reason.
Judging by the hierarchy of power and how everyone arrived, Baba so and so sits at the bottom of the pack. He is the one who ends up squeezing his large frame into the boot of the Prado when mkubwa suddenly decides that they need to change venues. That is where he belongs now that the other car is smaller and none of those other guys really know him. Neither do they give the impression that they care to. Just like his female friends, Mkubwa's male friends also behave like concubines. Their fates are intertwined courtesy of one man and even though they do not really know or like each other, they must act civilly for the purposes of putting on a good public show.
When Mkubwa laughs, they all laugh too; even when he is laughing with another Mkubwa on phone and they have no business joining in the laughter. Mkubwa has a knack for telling arid jokes. These, they have made their business to laugh at without fail; not because he asked them to but because they feel the need to validate him. He also tells stories that are boring enough to put a grown man to sleep but when he tells them, they must cluster closer round the table and nod in unison. Such is the power of the mammon. Everyone on the table knows that Mkubwa is connected to another person who is connected with the theft of the COVID-19 funds but none of them can say anything.
Baba so and so is the one who volunteers to go for cigarettes after one of the other yesmen volunteers to go for the charger. Mkubwa's phone must not go off; at least not before he foots the humongous bill via MPESA. By the time he comes back, they are halfway through the ugali, kachumbari and nyama choma they had ordered just before he left. That is how far the shops were but thankfully he is back in time to salvage bits and pieces of the sumptuous goat that is disappearing from the table at a very fast rate. Note that Baba so and so refused to eat breakfast at home because he was coming to meet the big man and not only is he tired and sweaty. He is yet to get some one on one time with Mkubwa.
Mkubwa's phone rings again and he picks it up with an air of seriousness that was missing from the call prior to that one. This time there is total silence on the table. Nobody speaks, giggles or laughs. It is evident that he is speaking to someone very important. After the call ends, he beckons to the fidgety waitress and asks for the bill. Apparently duty calls and Mkubwa must leave; this time on his own with just the driver and the other quiet guy who never says a thing. By now Baba so and so is calculating his miscalculations now that he has only 50 shillings left in his pocket after drinking that 150 shillings soda and he has yet to speak privately with Mkubwa. Meanwhile Mkubwa is saying quick goodbyes to the rest of the guys; most of whom do not seem to be half as bothered as Baba so and so now that they are likely better off.
Almost instinctively, Mkubwa calls Baba so and so and asks that they walk towards the car. "I had wanted to speak to you about that thing we had discussed last time," Baba so and so blurts out. "Let us make time for another meeting in two weeks' time when I return from the coast," Mkubwa says without making any eye contact. He then opens the glove compartment of his car and removes a brown envelope. It is filled with crisp 1000 notes and Baba so and so cannot hide his excitement. Out of those Mkubwa pulls out one crisp note and hands it over to Baba so and so. "Greet the kids. I will call you in two weeks." Mkubwa speeds off into the highway and Baba so and so is left standing there with his newly found 1000 shilling fortune. He is torn between buying some meat for the family or patronizing a keg joint once he gets back to Rongai; or doing both. 1000 shillings may be better than 50 shillings. Still he can't help but feel like he should have gotten more after all that ass kissing. Then again, maybe that is all he deserves. 
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