Justin walked slowly along the dusty pavement, one hand scratching his scalp as though trying to rub away the worry clinging to his mind. His lips were dry, but not from thirst from thinking too much.
At least, he told himself, she has something to eat this morning.
It wasn't much-just a small plastic bag with two slices of plain bread that had already begun to brown at the edges. But for his three-year-old daughter, that was breakfast. It wasn't enough to fill her belly, but maybe it would soften her morning cries. Maybe it would quiet her long enough for him to search for something more for the evening.
Before sunset, he thought, I must find something again. Otherwise, that little angry face will start again, shouting for food I don't have.
His eyes wandered ahead then stopped.
There it stood: the Amel Group Headquarters. A towering giant of a building, with its glass panels gleaming like cut diamonds in the morning sun. The entrance alone looked like it had been imported from another country; smooth tiles, clean concrete, and rotating golden doors that whispered power.
Flags bearing the logo, a bold black "A" wrapped in golden laurels flapped with slow confidence. It was the kind of building where billionaires signed papers that made nations move.
Justin paused outside the massive gate. He looked down at himself: faded jeans with a stitched-up knee, a brown shirt that had lost its color, and open slippers so thin they could feel the heartbeat of the road. Still, he took one step forward.
"My friend," a sharp voice cut across.
Justin looked up to see the Watchman. He was tall, stomach pushing against a tight uniform, and around his neck hung a shiny plastic tag: KATANA.
Katana didn't smile. He folded his arms across his chest like a soldier on parade.
"Hapa sio soko ya mitumba," he said, scanning Justin up and down. "This place is for professionals. Do you even have a KCSE certificate?"
Justin opened his mouth, but no words came. He wasn't even sure what he would ask for; a cleaning job? A delivery errand? Anything.
Katana shook his head. "Eh! Look elsewhere, my friend. Even our CEO is coming today. You think you'll be seen like that? Eh?" He chuckled bitterly, like someone guarding a gate to heaven. "Go try those kiosks huko mbele."
Justin lowered his eyes. That building had already swallowed his courage.
Just as Justin turned to leave, the road began to tremble, not from sound, but presence.
From the far end of the avenue, two white vans swung into view. Long satellite dishes sat on their roofs, spinning slowly. Their sides bore the bold branding of top media houses: KTN, CITIZEN, and NTV. One cameraman was already standing through a sunroof, adjusting his lens.
The vans parked neatly at the edge of the road, doors flying open. Journalists jumped out, pressing badges to their chests, holding mics like weapons of truth.
Seems CEO has not arrived yet." One said, tapping her earpiece.
"I want that front shot. Get the number plate. Don't forget the entry timestamp," another barked, eyes fixed on the main road.
"Do we have the name list?"
"Confirmed. I have the board members, the CFO, the PA. I just need a face for the headline."
Katana didn't flinch. He stood taller, arms behind his back, like a general ready to receive a king.
Then came the cars; seven identical black Cadillac Escalades, silent and gleaming, their engines barely growling as they formed a tight row by the entrance.
Between the third and fifth, the real royalty arrived; a luxurious black Bugatti, low, elegant, and deathly quiet.
From a distance, it didn't looked like an idea made real.
From the other Escalades, several men stepped out in coordinated silence; tall, black-suited, all with matching dark shades and earpieces. Without needing words, they moved toward the gathered journalists, their formation tight, parting the crowd with sheer presence alone.
The reporters stepped back instinctively, microphones lowered, camera lights flickering. A path cleared.
One bodyguard peeled off from the group, made a sharp turn, and walked toward the Bugatti. His hand gripped the back handle. The crowd seemed to freeze just for a moment, their eyes fixed on the glossy black car.
He opened the rear door.
Out stepped a man; tall and broad shouldered.
The black suit fit him so well it looked like it had been stitched into his skin. His shoes-clean, spotless-touched the ground like he was meant to be seen.
His walk was steady, calm. He didn't look around. His posture alone seemed to command attention without effort.
Justin found himself staring. There was something about the way he moved-the silence around him, the strength in his pace. His face was sharp, his jaw defined, and the dark sunglasses masked whatever emotion might've been there.
He didn't speak. Neither did anyone else.
For a brief moment, everything slowed. People watched, uncertain whether to move or wait. All eyes followed him.
For instant; a hand went up from the crowd. One journalists stepped forward.
"Sir," he called out, voice cutting clean through the murmurs. "After such a long time... after being in a coma, do you believe your return will stabilize the market?"
Silence.
No one answered yet.
And then, someone brushed past. A hard bump on Justin's side-maybe a shoulder, maybe an elbow. He stumbled.
He didn't fall immediately but his foot slid and then his back hit the concrete.
Fast.
The world tilted, then settled again. Then came stillness.
He could hear his own breath. That strange quietness, the one that comes when the body is slower than the world.
Then a figure standing directly above him; tall and Composed. Black suit, clean line and sun glasses.
He didn't bend and speak. Just extended a hand.
Justin blinked.
Then turned his head slightly. On the other side, people had lost control-voices rising, camera flashing, a tangle of questions with no answers.
The man finally spoke. Low and direct.
"Don't you want to stand up?"
Justin's lips parted-not to reply, but out of confusion.
Then slowly, his hand reached forward.
Their grip met.
...
*Hapa sio soko ya mitumba- This is not a second-hand market
*Go try those kiosks huko mbele- Go try those kiosks up ahead