I don’t keep keys in bunches. I keep them in singles. It is not accidental that I don’t keep my office keys and house keys together. This has a history so that in the event I lose one, I do not lose access to both my place of residence and office. You know how frustrating it is to reach the door of either of the mentioned places and realising that you don’t have the key. I am keen to ensure that whenever I change handbags, the key goes to the new one. But I haven’t always been successful. I have often failed miserably. I recall one recent case.
I am early to work today. It is a Friday and not much is happening in the way of my usual routine. I have pending tasks that I am keen to complete. I am eager and pack lunch (it is not my habit but I am feeling special today). I pack some yoghurt, some fruit and fried rice. I am enthusiastic. But before going to the office, I detour to pick a parcel delivered to me from a town far away from Nairobi. It has been gone unpicked from the parcel office for three days.
As I am fumbling through my purse to make my payment at the parcel office, out comes my single house key. The customer representative sees it.
‘’Won’t you lose it?” she asks me concerned.
“It would be hard to find it if you lose it,” she goes on.
I don’t desire a conversation of the pros and cons of having it so and tell her I won’t lose it.
As I leave her office, I can’t help but remember one of the most eventful moments I lost my house keys. I had newly arrived in Nairobi from a rural county. I was eager to settle in the city and went out to see friends I had not seen for long due to distance. Not yet familiar with the routine of my new workplace, I had gone to ‘town’ for late lunch with one of the friends and been long to return only to find the office building closed. I had no idea who to approach to open the space for me so that I could pick my handbag. And having no immediate alternative, I had to travel some 50KM (about an hour) away to pick my spare key from a friend. It was late and being a Friday, it was most convenient if I slept over and returned the following morning which I had duty to attend to.
I slept over at my friend’s alright; but upon returning to my place the following morning, I was not prepared for what I found. I couldn’t unlock the damn padlock. Many unsuccessful attempts later, I realised that the lock had a broken key inside. I was at a loss. Whatever or whoever had broken that key in there had really messed me up! A matter that was supposed to have been easy resulted to having to call a welder to cut the steel door. This, after impatient moments of arguing with the janitor who I hated talking to as he loved to ring my doorbell every moment he probably felt bored and desired to bother someone; which happened to be all the time.
You can imagine my humiliation a few months later when I arrived at my rented apartment at 1:00AM from a work related trip only to find I did not have my house keys. I swear I had those keys in my carryon bag when I boarded the flight to Nairobi. But I can’t tell where I lost them as I only realised I did not have them at our gate as I rummaged through my bag to open the gate.
Luckily, the Uber driver had not left and I narrated my fear almost in tears.
“Not again,” I thought to myself. I wondered where I’d sleep if I did not quickly find a solution.
Empathising with me, the driver offered to help me access my spare key which I had had the presence of mind to put somewhere it could be seen but not easily accessed. That’s the point at which I realised that Uber drivers are jacks of many trades only moonlighting as drivers when taking breaks from the other trades. He informed me that his full time job was a builder and would get the key for me if I got some builder’s tools. Who would I wake at this hour to ask for tools? None other than the janitor. Having no option, I woke my tormentor up. This time round, I was as meek as a lamb and he as haughty as male monkey. I begged and veiled threats from him and my assuring him that nothing would be damaged, the kind Uber driver carefully removed a windowpane and accessed my key. You should have seen my relief and the Janitors threatening stare that silently demanded for ‘ya macho’ (a bribe). I gave him and generously tipped the driver whose name and face I cannot recall.
All these memories had been triggered by that lady at the courier services lady and by the time I was done with them, I’d already reached my office door. I fumbled for my office key but couldn’t find it. I put my parcels down. I emptied my purse and lunch bag. But no key was there. Not even some jingling. I was not dreaming. I’d lost it and did not know where to find it. Should I retrace my footsteps? I wondered. To say that I was devastated is an understatement. I was disorientated. I had no spare readily available. I had no access. I couldn’t complete the tasks I had so much prepared for. I couldn’t have the office space to myself. I had to squat some place until I found a way out. Was I jinxed? Could my case be helped? I wondered. Or may be, I need someone dedicated to be handling my key issues until such a time I can handle myself. Meanwhile, I still do not mix keys to mitigate the risk of losing them and losing myself in the frustration that ensues. Nkt!
ENDS
