She walked into the gate at around 2.30 a.m. Shortly after taking a few steps into the apartment compound, she let out an ear-deafening scream that sobered her up and awoke many people in the building.
“He’s dead!” She screamed, pointing to a body lying on the ground floor in a pool of blood.
The half-awake watchman ran to see what she was talking about. Her arrival at the gate had already interrupted his sleep, and he still felt groggy.
“Ametoka wapi huyu? Where has he come from?” Asked the watchman.
“I don’t know I’ve found him like that,” said the woman.
A few neighbours joined them on the ground floor. They looked up, checking for open balcony doors or anything that could give a clue.
In apartment E2, Ruth was rudely awakened by the cold breeze from the open balcony door and the frenzy outside.
“Walid! Babe,” she called out as she walked to the balcony.
He wasn’t there. She had hardly had time to think of where he could be when she saw people pointing at her. She felt a shiver, and it wasn’t from the cold. Something was wrong.
After the watchman awoke fully, he had a better look at the man’s body lying on the ground. He recognized the bracelet on the man. How could he not? He had shaken that hand several times as he received tips from the generous foreigner who had rented out apartment E2 for close to a year. He travelled every few months, but when he was around, he was good to the security guards. The watchman’s revelation was why the crowd looked at Ruth’s balcony.
Another neighbour came out to the balcony. Ruth turned to him to ask what was going on downstairs.
“Somebody has fallen to the ground,” replied the neighbour.
“What? Do they know who?” Ruth asked in shock.
The neighbour was interrupted by the sound of the police siren. They had arrived at the scene. Meanwhile, Ruth went back inside to look for Walid. She knocked on the bathroom door and got in when he didn’t respond. He was nowhere to be found. She called him, but his phone rang in the living room. She got that eerie feeling again.
She put on a dera and coat, ready to go downstairs and find out what was happening. Ruth also thought of calling John, Walid’s close friend, to inquire if he knew about his whereabouts. John picked up the call, but their conversation was cut short by a loud bang on the door. The police were at Ruth’s door.
“Where are you headed?” Asked the police officer.
“Downstairs to find out what is going on,” Ruth responded. Their presence caught her by surprise.
“Is this Mr. Walid’s apartment?” The police officer asked her.
“Yes. It is,” Ruth replied.
“Who are you?” Inquired the police officer.
“I’m his girlfriend,” said Ruth.
The police officer walked straight to the balcony and looked to the ground. The rest of the events were a blur to Ruth, who ended up cuffed and in a prison cell a few minutes later. She had been accused of pushing Walid off the balcony.
“I was asleep and woke up to the commotion,” Ruth tried to explain.
“You’re the young girls who are killing rich men, eh?” A police officer told Ruth.
“I did not kill anyone. Aki sikumuua,” said Ruth, in tears.
“How much money were you planning on taking? Was someone paying you?” Another police officer asked her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t kill him,” Ruth cried.
“Msichana, you picked the wrong one. He was a U.S citizen. You’re about to go to prison for a very long time,” said one of the cops.
John, Walid’s friend, arrived at the police station. He was Kenyan but had worked with Walid for a while. Knowing how to manoeuvre through the system, he could talk to Ruth.
“John, I’m glad you’re here. Please help me. They’re saying I killed Walid. John, I was asleep. We argued about a girl he had been texting. I took a few shots and blacked out. I woke up to an open balcony,” Ruth told John.
“Walid wouldn’t commit suicide. You were the only one with him in that house,” John told Ruth.
“I swear, John. You know I would never do something like this. Please, I’m telling the truth. I don’t know how Walid ended up on the ground, but I didn’t push him,” cried Ruth.
“You should have chosen me instead of the 50-year-old man with more money,” said John as he walked away.
Ruth knew John wouldn’t help her. She had met both Walid and John on the same night. She and two girlfriends had gone clubbing in Kilimani, hoping to find rich men. She was a young girl in her early twenties who had left the village for Nairobi in search of greener pastures. Her new-found friends had introduced her to this mode of survival.
After a few weeks in the clubs, she learned how to spot a rich man and use her beauty to get what she wanted from him. On the night she met Walid, John had approached her first. He was younger than Walid. She joined them at their table. It didn’t take long for her to realize Walid was wealthier than John. He was also better looking despite his age.
Walid knew her type and enjoyed the attention. That was the beginning of their interaction. They grew fond of each other in the coming months, and it became more than a transactional relationship, but its bedrock remained sex and money.
In the weeks leading up to the tragedy, Walid had been talking to another young girl. Ruth couldn’t prove that he was cheating on her, but they fought about it frequently. Walid had denied claiming girls throw themselves at him, but Ruth still had her suspicions.
They had argued about the same issue on the night of the incident. Ruth had gone to his place to bid him farewell since he was travelling for a few weeks. She was also going to get upkeep money. As they were spending time together, she happened to see a text from a lady she knew from her clubbing shenanigans. They had a big quarrel, and that was when she found solace in alcohol and blacked out, only to wake up to the drama and accusations.
Walid’s death hit the headlines. He was more influential than she had imagined, and someone needed to pay for his death. Being a girl with no financial muscle or connections, she was the perfect scapegoat. Her family couldn’t help her. They even felt ashamed that they had accepted the money she had been sending them without questioning its source.
John distanced himself from her despite having spent time with her and Walid. He doubted Ruth had pushed Walid but had no incentive to help her. The truth was Walid had accidentally slipped while on the balcony rail. He had also been a bit tipsy and lost his balance. Blaming Ruth was a more compelling narrative for many powerful forces, and she paid for a crime she didn’t commit.
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