A Foreigner In Kenya, Chapter 20

 Mkataba - the contract

What we still don't know is what the house should look like. Big, small, high, low, ... There are so many options. What I know is simple: Atehan psatzen debena bere etchezan da - (that's what the Basques say) whoever walks through this door may feel at home. And that's my job too.

Are you closer to the face of God when you kneel before his consecrated altar? It is said that God is everywhere. But it also means: go to your father's house.

And that's exactly how it should be, a father's house. Everyone who comes should be welcome, as a friend, relative or just a hiker who asks for a place to sleep.

I'll have the monster call Fundi, this problem has to be solved! 

We'll meet in the bar. As always, I'll have a cold beer. 

"This bar here, that's my office," I explain to the Fundi. "There is everything I need here. Cold beer, fresh air and music." The music is too loud, I can hardly understand anything, that makes conversation a bit difficult.

The Fundi brought some plans with them, copied from a newspaper. We look at them, we don't like them.

The monster says, "What can we do?"

The Fundi says: "Look on the Internet, there are many examples! Find one." 

That's how easy it can be! 

I ask, casually, if he has any idea how much the house might cost? 

He pulls out a pencil and a piece of paper, begins to talk and write. 

"The foundation costs around 100,000. For this we need 50 bags of cement, 2 truckloads of stones, ... Then the approval, the stamps, ..." 

He enumerates a number of things. Then the bricks, the windows, the doors and ... In the end he adds up. It comes to 5 million.

I guess the house can't get big at 5 million! I can't pay that! It has to be a hut, nothing else is possible!

We discuss how big is the house, how big should it be. 

Then we come to his task. He will do the construction site inspection.

I ask him why doesn't he do the planning too? 

"We need an architect for that." 

"And he also does the construction drawing?" I ask. 

"No," he replied, "the construction drawing is made by a draftsman." 

"And where can I find such a draftsman?" 

"That is determined by the architect." 

I think this is just an overview, we don't know anything for sure yet. One after the other. There is a lot of talk, maybe too much. I notice a few things. I discard it again. Perhaps I misunderstood it, it may be that one mustn't judge too quickly.

We arrange a meeting point with the seller. Go there, the contract must be signed. The Fundi is there again. Why? I dont know.

We get off the bus, are already expected. It's not far to the land surveyor. It's a strange office, behind another store. To get to the surveyor's office, we have to go through this business.

I am not doing well. I got a stomach ache that night. They are now making themselves felt. The office is small. 2 tables, nothing else, and as usual in Kenya, dark. It takes until I can see something. Witnesses are there too. Chairs are fetched, we sit down.

The surveyor fetches the contract. He gives it to me. I look at him. It is a form from the Ministry Of Land. Nothing special. Nothing special. A standard contract.

The Fundi also looks at him. I wonder why he's doing this. I don't have to wait long, he's already talking.

"It's a completely normal contract." 

I've been waiting for that. 

And he keeps talking. "Nicely worked out, there is the seller, the buyer, the witnesses, everything is listed correctly."

Excellent! He commented on everything I read. I know everything now!

The surveyor fills out the contract. 

Address given by the monster, then the buyer or buyers. The monster comes first, then me. Now the witnesses. The buying price. He shows me the contract.

"Is it correct?" 

I look at it. 

"No," I say, "the monster's name has to go." 

The monster looks a little surprised, but says nothing. 

The surveyor amends the contract. My name is now the 1st buyer, the name of the monster as the 2nd buyer. So exactly the other way around.

The surveyor shows me the contract. 

" Is it correct?" 

I look at it. 

"No," I say, "the name has to go." 

The monster is irritated. The surveyor brushes the name away. Now only my name is there as a buyer.

"OK," I say, "let's sign." 

Here I am in for a surprise. There is no signing, the money has to be paid first. This is strange to me, but this is Kenya.

Now the questions begin. 

"When will the money be there?" 

The most important question of all. 

"I don't know!" I can only answer. 

"When do you think it will be there?" 

"In 3 days, that is the shortest period of time, it can also take a week or more." 

You are satisfied with that. 

I made the monster happy. I bought a piece of land that doesn't belong to me because the contract is a sales agreement, nothing more.

Everything was handled quickly. If you have time and let time pass, you lose a friend and never get money. I got rid of money, that's true. Maybe I made a friend. One for life. If you ask a person for change, he gives a lecture on the begotten and the ungenerated; if one asks about the price of bread, the answer is that the father is greater than the son; if you ask whether the bathroom is ready, the answer is that the son was created out of nothing. There is always talk of the bush.

We're going back.