May 31st, 2023, precisely at around 12:45 pm. In the court room, all eyes focused on Karim Makana Mbeki as he stepped into the dock. Towering above him was the judge, a tall guy wearing glasses that seemed to possess the power of intense scrutiny. The rest of the court sat silently, waiting to hear the charges. In a dramatic twist, Karim was accused of the most bizarre crime imaginable—possession of “Hope” with a street value of a mere Ksh. 200. The room fell into a shocked silence as the unexpected charge hung in the air, leaving everyone puzzled and curious about the unfolding case.
The judge, looking amused and curious, leaned forward and asked, “Where is the evidence?” Everyone looked at the prosecution, hoping to see solid proof that would support such a strange accusation. But much to everyone’s surprise, the police had forgotten to bring the evidence along with the charge sheet. Turning his attention to Karim, the judge said, ”For now, you will have to return to your chair and wait.”
As the court went on with the readings of other cases, Karim stayed seated, his patience wearing thin as each minute ticked by. He could notice that there was a lot of activity happening in relation to his case. He saw prosecuting officers hurrying in and out of the room, creating a sense of curiosity and anticipation.
Now, on the scorching afternoon of the previous day, the sun hung high in the cloudless sky, casting a relentless heat upon the earth below. Underneath the shade of a magnificent tree, its vibrant green leaves swaying lazily in the warm breeze, a guy sought solace from the sweltering rays. Seeking refuge from the oppressive heat, he had found relief beneath the expansive branches where dappled sunlight danced upon the ground.
Unbothered by his surroundings, the chap sat in peaceful seclusion, beside him his backpack and a sweater, his weary eyes half-closed, lost in his thoughts. The symphony of nature surrounded him as the gentle rustle of leaves blended harmoniously with the distant chirping of birds. The DCI’s social media admin would have said he was ‘eating root.’
But just as tranquility settled around him, the distant hum of engines disrupted the serene atmosphere. The rhythmic purr grew louder, as two sleek motorbikes appeared on the horizon. Riding in unison, they gracefully cut through the air. With a sudden halt, the two bikes came to rest directly in front of the guy, their engines still humming with restrained power.
Quickly now, allow me to introduce Karim Makana Mbeki, who takes the lead in this piece. Following Pablo’s untimely demise, we needed to introduce our new protagonist – Karim. Karim is a charismatic chap, standing at a stylish 5 feet tall and on a mission.
Karim’s eyes opened wide, and he raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, his solitude interrupted by the unexpected visitors. While the engines continued to buzz, they all disembarked, leaving one bike parked some distance away. They all walked towards Karim as he patiently waited for them to get closer.
To Karim’s utter astonishment, it turned out that among the 6 male individuals, 2 had an impressive set of “friendship bracelets” known as handcuffs fastened around their wrists, giving the impression that they were securely attached. Like a lightbulb flickering to life, Karim swiftly grasped the unfriendly nature of the visit, and a sense of confusion seemed to dance around his mind. The other 4 introduced themselves as police officers.
In a burst of activity, one of the officers quickly put handcuffs on Karim, as if they were playing a game of pretend. Meanwhile, the other officers searched through his backpack, looking for who-knows-what. It was like they were on a treasure hunt, trying to find something special. Around the tree, they scoured every corner as if they were searching for a lost key to heaven. The whole scene seemed like a funny show, leaving Karim wondering if he had stumbled into a silly prank.
As the officers continued their thorough search, one of them suddenly stumbled upon what they claimed to be 50 grams of “Hope” – a substance apparently worth the astonishing value of Ksh. 200, or so they believed. It was a moment that left Karim scratching his head with both hands in disbelief. As the moment unfolded, the other two guys with handcuffs were absorbed in their phones, presumably making calls to their lawyers or seeking legal advice, or so one could assume.
Caught off guard by the surprising situation, one cop jokingly remarked, “Looks like you’ll be in for a long time for selling “Hope”. Karim confidently answered a series of questions, articulating his responses effortlessly. One of them, seemingly in charge, couldn’t resist injecting a touch of humor and asked how much Karim had to offer in order to buy his freedom. Karim’s mind playfully connected the concept of freedom with the country’s 5th President and smiled. Without missing a beat, Karim replied, “Well, I have no money; I’m simply surviving on hope.”
The whole conversation came to a dramatic close, leaving Karim in the unexpected embrace of police custody. As he pondered his upcoming court appearance, he wondered if he should have brought his lucky, happy socks for this unplanned fashion show. In the dingy police cell where Karim and the two other guys were placed, they met a cellmate peacefully dozing away, already making himself at home on the dirty floor.
It seemed that fate had orchestrated a peculiar party, transforming the cell into a cozy gathering of 4, where dreams of freedom danced amidst the less-than-inviting surroundings. They chatted briefly, their conversation interrupted by occasional glances at the walls covered in writings of various kinds, turning the cell into an intriguing canvas of thoughts and messages.
It turned out that the slumbering cellmate they stumbled upon had apparently been a long-term guest in the cozy confines of the cell, boasting an impressive one-week tenure under the watchful eyes of the station’s CID. According to him, he was there to aid in the investigation of a fraud case, or so he claimed. However, Karim noticed the stranger’s remarkable talent for fluency, as if he had acquired a master’s degree in storytelling during his time there.
As night descended, and the court date loomed ever closer, the diligent police officers on duty conducted regular headcounts, as if they anticipated the miraculous possibility of a great escape from the confines of the cell. The officers also treated the inmates to a meal for supper, perhaps the government’s way of ensuring they were well-nourished before the grand day of reckoning.
Karim didn’t have much to say, but his head was a hive of activities as he wondered how peddling hope could be illegal in the first place. Seated on the floor, with his back against the wall, Karim couldn’t help but think about how incredibly strange his situation was. He was fully aware that hope was the only thing standing between him and becoming a permanent resident of the “Jail Inn & Spa” for an extended vacation.
Morning came, and the inmates eagerly awaited their court appearance. They were treated to a breakfast, transforming their modest police cell into an impromptu ‘Airbnb’ experience, with the only missing ‘B’ being for bed. The storyteller, who claimed to be under the custody of the station’s CID, chose to stay behind saying he still had a week left in custody. This set him apart from Karim and the other inmates who were ready for court. We’ll come back to revisit his stay in due time, but for now, let’s move forward.
“Karim Makana Mbeki, you are hereby accused of illegally being in possession of 50gms of “Hope”, with a street value of Ksh 200, on May 30th, 2023. Is it true?” a lady clerk read from a file, looking at Karim, who is now standing in the defendant’s dock. Karim’s response of “Yes, your honor” was given without any hesitation. And now the court is currently awaiting the presentation of evidence before the judge.
After a while, Karim’s name was finally called again. With a mix of anticipation and confusion, he watched as a small brown bag was solemnly placed before the judge. Karim raised an eyebrow. “Is this some sort of magical bag that expands? I mean, how does 50 grams of “Hope” manage to look bigger than what I was arrested with? Are they compensating by adding extra hope for my case? Maybe it’s the special edition super-sized hope package!” Karim suppressed a smile.
The judge directed his attention towards Karim and inquired, “Is this what was found on you?” Shock written all over his face, Karim pretended to be unaware of the bag’s contents. However, the judge advised him to approach the table and open the bag. To his astonishment, it turned out to be a deceptive replica. The officers had cunningly included additional grams of hope, clearly trying to amplify the evidence against him.
Karim, in response to the judge, firmly stated, “Your honor, this is not what I had.” He proceeded to vividly describe the entire sequence of events, starting from the encounter with two motorbikes approaching to the subsequent confinement in a police cell. Concurrently, the judge’s pen danced across the paper, seemingly determined to meticulously replicate the entire scenes of event.
The judge glanced at Karim, and they continued their discussion, eventually reaching a point where the judge asked about Karim’s education background. This curiosity arose from the judge’s observation of Karim’s remarkable display of cultured and civilized conduct. In the end, the judge delivered a verdict in favor of Karim, granting him a pardon and officially closing his file. Alongside the ruling, the judge offered some valuable advice to Karim, urging him to continue abiding by the law and maintaining good conduct.
With hope as his only resource, Karim now stands as a free man and is escorted out towards the court’s holding cell. But guess who’s not happy with the ruling? Yes, you guessed it right! And the story continues… because in this life’s unpredictable journey, even the universe can’t resist sprinkling its own dose of surprises.
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