Wikendi ya ushindi mkubwa! Utakosaje?

In an alternate universe, I drive a tuktuk nganya in Tanzania. I have it saved as my WhatsApp profile photo. The marketing department at Meridian Bet knows me by name, and is seducing me into placing a bet with my week’s earnings.

Mechi bora za mataifa PIGABURE *149*10#

I receive this message at 12.50pm, encouraging me to bet on the international weekend fixtures. I’m probably the loudest at the tuktuk stage, debating possible bet slips over lunch hour. I talk big, and dream even bigger, boasting about what I will do with my winnings, how I will own buses plying the Nairobi – Dar es Salaam route, marry a second wife and build each wife a house at the coast. They laugh it off, as they always do to my made up stories.

One day, they will see. I tell myself.

I convinced my employer, the tuktuk owner, to put some money into its aesthetics. I selected the sticker myself, a representation of the big boss energy I embody, and the spoiler and rear bumper bar to give it that pocket rocket look.

Hivi sasa hatuwezi kosa wateja. I told my tajiri.

My loud mouth earns me customers, sometimes to the detriment of my colleagues. They often accuse me of stealing their customers. Wiki iliyopita tulizozana sana na Kilasi, dereva mwenzangu. Matusi ameyajaza mdomoni sana yule mwanamme. Were it not for my disarming humor, a fight would have ensued. He is older and is among the pioneer tuktuk drivers this side of town. I have noticed how he looks at me when I catch him from the side of my eye. I suspect he started the rumor that I keep a snake in my house.

Baba tutapanda ndege lini hadi Uingereza? Yasmin asked yesterday, when I picked her up from madrassa.

Several months ago, I narrated to her how she would accompany me on my business travels to Uingereza and Uchina as we lay on the ground, watching planes leave white trails in the sky. Her pupils dilated and the eyes on her slanted head were filled with pride as she looked at me. Her admiration melted my heart, even though it came from deceit. But what is a small lie if it makes a 7 year old girl believe in her father, and a brighter future? Is it not a cluster of small lies that holds my life together. Like this tuktuk that everyone thinks I own, including Yasmin and her mother. Does it not assure them comfort and status in society? A husband, and father, who owns a tuktuk. Besides, am I not planning to buy it off from Yusuf after I finish paying off the debt that paid for my mother’s treatment? What is a lie if it bestows hope?