It was Tuesday, at around 1:15 p.m. The sun was high in the sky, casting sharp shadows on the Gitithia village. Njoroge was heading to lunch, his stomach growling in anticipation. He had a routine: every day, he picked up food from a local hotel called Sweet Dishes and took it back to his modest one room on the outskirts of the local shopping centre, where he enjoyed his meal in solitude.
As he walked down the familiar path, his thoughts drifted aimlessly. He was looking forward to the savoury comfort of his usual meal—a taste that had become synonymous with his midday respite. He quickened his pace, imagining the first bite.
Just as he was about to reach Sweet Dishes, he saw Ann. She was a familiar face, someone he had seen around but never really spoken to. They exchanged the usual polite greetings, a nod here, a smile there. Today, however, something felt different. On an impulse, Njoroge, with a hint of a smile, asked Ann if she would like to join him for lunch. He half-expected her to decline, but to his surprise, she accepted.
The air seemed lighter as they walked together to Sweet Dishes. Njoroge picked up his usual order and an extra plate for Ann. They made their way back to his room, the conversation flowing easily, despite them not knowing much about each other.
Once inside, they settled into the small space. Njoroge set the table with the food, dividing the portions equally. They ate together, the room filled with the sounds of their laughter and the clinking of utensils. It was a simple, yet unexpectedly enjoyable meal.
By 3 p.m., Njoroge knew he had to return to work. He made his way back with a series of excuses ready, blaming imaginary delays and non-existent issues. Yet, as he walked, he couldn't shake a strange feeling of unease. He had eaten two types of food today—his usual lunch and Ann. Ann, whom he had met only for the third time. In fact, he knew nothing about her beyond her name.
As he sat at his desk, trying to focus on his tasks, he found himself repeatedly drifting back to the events of the afternoon. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly was bothering him. Was it the spontaneity of the lunch invitation? The fact that he had welcomed a near-stranger into his home? Or something else entirely?
Njoroge shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He remembered a phrase his priest used to say, "You shall eat food but it won't harm you." He repeated it to himself, trying to find comfort in the familiar words. Yet, the unease lingered, like a shadow that refused to be chased away by the light.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. Njoroge went through the motions of his work, but his mind was elsewhere. He kept replaying the lunch in his head, scrutinizing every detail, searching for something he might have missed.
As the day drew to a close, Njoroge packed up his things and headed home. The streets were quieter now, the village winding down for the evening. He felt a strange mix of anticipation and apprehension as he approached his house.
Opening the door, he half-expected to find Ann still there, but of course, she was gone. The remnants of their lunch were still on the table, a silent reminder of the unusual day. Njoroge cleaned up, his mind still racing.
He sat down on his bed, the room now eerily quiet. He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but his thoughts kept circling back to Ann. Who was she really? Why had she accepted his invitation so readily? And why did he feel so unsettled?
As he walked down the familiar path, his thoughts drifted aimlessly. He was looking forward to the savoury comfort of his usual meal—a taste that had become synonymous with his midday respite. He quickened his pace, imagining the first bite.
Just as he was about to reach Sweet Dishes, he saw Ann. She was a familiar face, someone he had seen around but never really spoken to. They exchanged the usual polite greetings, a nod here, a smile there. Today, however, something felt different. On an impulse, Njoroge, with a hint of a smile, asked Ann if she would like to join him for lunch. He half-expected her to decline, but to his surprise, she accepted.
The air seemed lighter as they walked together to Sweet Dishes. Njoroge picked up his usual order and an extra plate for Ann. They made their way back to his room, the conversation flowing easily, despite them not knowing much about each other.
Once inside, they settled into the small space. Njoroge set the table with the food, dividing the portions equally. They ate together, the room filled with the sounds of their laughter and the clinking of utensils. It was a simple, yet unexpectedly enjoyable meal.
By 3 p.m., Njoroge knew he had to return to work. He made his way back with a series of excuses ready, blaming imaginary delays and non-existent issues. Yet, as he walked, he couldn't shake a strange feeling of unease. He had eaten two types of food today—his usual lunch and Ann. Ann, whom he had met only for the third time. In fact, he knew nothing about her beyond her name.
As he sat at his desk, trying to focus on his tasks, he found himself repeatedly drifting back to the events of the afternoon. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly was bothering him. Was it the spontaneity of the lunch invitation? The fact that he had welcomed a near-stranger into his home? Or something else entirely?
Njoroge shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He remembered a phrase his priest used to say, "You shall eat food but it won't harm you." He repeated it to himself, trying to find comfort in the familiar words. Yet, the unease lingered, like a shadow that refused to be chased away by the light.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. Njoroge went through the motions of his work, but his mind was elsewhere. He kept replaying the lunch in his head, scrutinizing every detail, searching for something he might have missed.
As the day drew to a close, Njoroge packed up his things and headed home. The streets were quieter now, the village winding down for the evening. He felt a strange mix of anticipation and apprehension as he approached his house.
Opening the door, he half-expected to find Ann still there, but of course, she was gone. The remnants of their lunch were still on the table, a silent reminder of the unusual day. Njoroge cleaned up, his mind still racing.
He sat down on his bed, the room now eerily quiet. He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but his thoughts kept circling back to Ann. Who was she really? Why had she accepted his invitation so readily? And why did he feel so unsettled?
