My first robbery

I used my trip to Italy as an excuse to finally get my house cleaned up. It’s a trick I learned from my mom; there’s something serene about returning to a spotlessly clean home after some time away. I’m temporarily fooled into thinking it’s the way I always live.

Thus, I was surprised to come home and find a box of cereal and deck of cards emptied out and spilled across the floor, my soapstone chess pieces out of place, and the stuffed moose I received as a gift from returned Canadian friend resting against the kitchen door when it had previously been sitting on a cabinet shelf on the other side of the house. However, nothing appeared to be stolen. The back door had remained padlocked while I was away and the front door was locked, so my best guess was that wind gusts from the small plane of glass missing in the back door somehow blew threw the house and made the mess. As for the moose, it wouldn’t be unlike me to absentmindedly move it, and maybe I let didn’t leave the chess pieces set in place after all? Oh, and perhaps I did spend all the change I thought was in a box on the table, so I let it go, but not before professionally replacing the missing pane of glass with cardboard and duct tape.

After being away from site for two weeks I needed to restock my pantry and bought, among other things, a loaf of bread and a bunch of bananas. I then went away for the day and came back to find the bread almost gone and the bananas missing, except a peel on the floor. Also, my camera was out of the case and switched on. Again, the door was locked, and I had been told that nobody outside of the owner, who lives in Nairobi, has a key. Was I going crazy? If someone was getting into my house why was nothing important stolen? Maybe I went through more bread then I thought during the previous evening. Maybe I had left my camera turned on and out of the case without thinking.

The next day I finally had a chance to sit down and download the pictures off my digital camera. I watched as the downloading pictures came up on the screen: the last sweet potato training class I organized, pics from Tuscany, Rome, and Pompeii, and around fifty out of focus pictures of the inside of my house…

Ok, something is not right.

I decided to contact Absalom, the house owner living in Nairobi. He agreed that I had a serious problem and he is going to change the lock on the front door as soon as possible. The windows are barred and we deduced that besides someone else having a key there is no way this could happen. Until the front door lock is replaced, I am padlocking the front door as well. I remembered that awhile back I noticed the house key was missing from my key chain. I don’t know how it happened and I never found it, so Absalom sent me a new key from Nairobi. My theory is that the key fell somewhere in the yard, and the kids on my compound discovered it, recently realized that it is the door key to my house, and have been using it to get in. Who else but children would play with my cards and my chess set and take a bunch of pictures in my house but steal nothing of value? I wasn’t too upset about it and actually felt pretty good in terms of fixing the problem and having lost nothing too important. Feeling fortunate, I decided to call it a night. Now, hanging on a nail in the wall by the back door is my trendy and cool L.L. Bean toiletries bag that has, among other things, my toothbrush and toothpaste, soap, sunscreen, and most importantly my malaria medication. It was gone. Now I was getting a little peeved. I needed a glass of wine. (I had reacquired a taste for it in Italy), but then I realized that box I had just purchased (classy, I know) had disappeared as well.

The next morning I had Absalom talk to Mama Nora and Moses and the other adults on my compound, and my kid theory remains. Absalom and Moses are both security guards (although Moses is retired) and I was pretty amused listening to them talk about various interrogation techniques. The one they decided to go on is to pretend there is a police investigation underway and to scare the kids into confessing with threats of prison sentences. Absalom then confidently assured me that if he were in Kakamega he would have my things back the same day. He went on to tell me of how he suspected a garden worker has stolen things from his house some time ago. It was only a hunch, but to find out he went to the worker’s house and beat him mercilessly until the worker finally confessed and gave Absalom his things back. I hope the same technique is not used on the kids.

So I’m honestly disappointed. I should know in the next couple days if I’ll ever see my toiletries bag again (the only thing I really need that is missing), and with my medication replaced and key being changed I guess things are ok. I built these kids a swing though. I give them toys and candy and play with them in the yard. If it does turn out to be the children it’s a just another disillusioning relationship I’ve had here in Kenya, like the guy who wants to be your best friend, and once he feels the moment is right acts for sponsorship to America or a new cell phone. There are so many people like that here that it‘s difficult to ever know people’s true motives or let my guard down.