Free The Outsider(S) by Caroline Adhiambo Jakob
Authors: Caroline Adhiambo Jakob
know where to start. Of course, so many things had happened.
“Kenya Airways?” I asked finally in a livid voice. “Was that the best you could do?”
“KLM, the Royal Dutch Airlines, has a partnership with Kenya airways. They assured me that most of the pilots on Kenya Airways are Dutch,” she responded, her voice breaking in sobs. Being driven to tears wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence in the shark kingdom.
“They better be!” I whispered with gritted teeth and hung up.
I headed to the KLM business lounge. It was by no means the best that I had been to, but I was sure that it was all going downhill from then. I shuddered at the thought of what was awaiting me at my destination. If I reached it at all.
The American who had asked me before if everything was fine passed by. He was talking on his cell phone. I didn’t want to eavesdrop but it occurred to me that he was repeating the same word over and over again: “Awesome, awesome, awesome…”
My Blackberry rang. I checked and saw that it was Emilia. I composed myself. Watching the “awesome” American had calmed me down.
“Yeah?” I started restlessly.
“I am really sorry that I didn’t pick up your call right away. I was attending to a family matter and had forgotten my phone in the car,” she started breathlessly. She paused, but I didn’t say anything. I knew the power of silence. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that according to the airlines ranking, KLM and Kenya Airways are both ranked three-star, so theoretically one can expect similar or comparable standards.”
“That’s not the point,” I interrupted her curtly. I could feel the uneasiness on the other end of the line. Of course, she didn’t dare ask what exactly the point was. But we both understood. When it came to issues concerning race, one was best advised to keep it to oneself.
“Listen, I have to go,” I said abruptly. “I am very dissatisfied with your performance. If you don’t pull up your socks, I might be forced to look somewhere else.” There was an uneasy silence. “You are aware that this is a chance of a lifetime?” I prodded.
“I am very sorry. This will not happen again,” she pleaded. She continued tentatively, “You are booked at the Sarini Hotel. Someone will pick you up from the airport.”
I felt a shiver. “Is it any good?” I asked.
“Angelina Jolie stayed there the last time she was in Kenya,” she responded cautiously. I pondered that. Even though Angelina Jolie with her tendency to adopt anything exotic could not be trusted, there was at least the hope that it would not be a total disaster.
I disconnected the call without a word. It was a habit I had learned early in my career. My first boss never bothered to end a call. I would talk for minutes before realizing that I was talking to myself.
“Ladies and gentlemen, KQ flight 802 to Nairobi, boarding now!”
I sprang from my seat and remembered that I had not talked to Philippe. I knew that he was at home playing the perfect husband and daddy.
“Ready to go?” he asked when he picked the phone.
“Yeah sure!” I replied and felt a lump in my throat.
“Good luck!” he said finally. The tears I had been trying to hold back suddenly dripped down on to my shirt. Luck was what one wished people who were in an undesirable position. Every single shark had made a point of wishing me luck, and now Philippe of all the people had joined the bandwagon.
“I’ll be fine!” I said brightly. Whether I was going to crash on that flight or be eaten by some dangerous African animal on arrival, I was going to maintain my dignity.
“KQ flight 802 to Nairobi boarding now!” the announcement boomed over the speaker. I quickly bid Philippe good-bye and rushed through to the gate. Almost all the passengers had boarded by the time I reached the plane. I was met by a stewardess in a red uniform. “Ma’am, may I see your boarding pass?”
I smiled broadly. It was the kind of exaggerated
“Kenya Airways?” I asked finally in a livid voice. “Was that the best you could do?”
“KLM, the Royal Dutch Airlines, has a partnership with Kenya airways. They assured me that most of the pilots on Kenya Airways are Dutch,” she responded, her voice breaking in sobs. Being driven to tears wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence in the shark kingdom.
“They better be!” I whispered with gritted teeth and hung up.
I headed to the KLM business lounge. It was by no means the best that I had been to, but I was sure that it was all going downhill from then. I shuddered at the thought of what was awaiting me at my destination. If I reached it at all.
The American who had asked me before if everything was fine passed by. He was talking on his cell phone. I didn’t want to eavesdrop but it occurred to me that he was repeating the same word over and over again: “Awesome, awesome, awesome…”
My Blackberry rang. I checked and saw that it was Emilia. I composed myself. Watching the “awesome” American had calmed me down.
“Yeah?” I started restlessly.
“I am really sorry that I didn’t pick up your call right away. I was attending to a family matter and had forgotten my phone in the car,” she started breathlessly. She paused, but I didn’t say anything. I knew the power of silence. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that according to the airlines ranking, KLM and Kenya Airways are both ranked three-star, so theoretically one can expect similar or comparable standards.”
“That’s not the point,” I interrupted her curtly. I could feel the uneasiness on the other end of the line. Of course, she didn’t dare ask what exactly the point was. But we both understood. When it came to issues concerning race, one was best advised to keep it to oneself.
“Listen, I have to go,” I said abruptly. “I am very dissatisfied with your performance. If you don’t pull up your socks, I might be forced to look somewhere else.” There was an uneasy silence. “You are aware that this is a chance of a lifetime?” I prodded.
“I am very sorry. This will not happen again,” she pleaded. She continued tentatively, “You are booked at the Sarini Hotel. Someone will pick you up from the airport.”
I felt a shiver. “Is it any good?” I asked.
“Angelina Jolie stayed there the last time she was in Kenya,” she responded cautiously. I pondered that. Even though Angelina Jolie with her tendency to adopt anything exotic could not be trusted, there was at least the hope that it would not be a total disaster.
I disconnected the call without a word. It was a habit I had learned early in my career. My first boss never bothered to end a call. I would talk for minutes before realizing that I was talking to myself.
“Ladies and gentlemen, KQ flight 802 to Nairobi, boarding now!”
I sprang from my seat and remembered that I had not talked to Philippe. I knew that he was at home playing the perfect husband and daddy.
“Ready to go?” he asked when he picked the phone.
“Yeah sure!” I replied and felt a lump in my throat.
“Good luck!” he said finally. The tears I had been trying to hold back suddenly dripped down on to my shirt. Luck was what one wished people who were in an undesirable position. Every single shark had made a point of wishing me luck, and now Philippe of all the people had joined the bandwagon.
“I’ll be fine!” I said brightly. Whether I was going to crash on that flight or be eaten by some dangerous African animal on arrival, I was going to maintain my dignity.
“KQ flight 802 to Nairobi boarding now!” the announcement boomed over the speaker. I quickly bid Philippe good-bye and rushed through to the gate. Almost all the passengers had boarded by the time I reached the plane. I was met by a stewardess in a red uniform. “Ma’am, may I see your boarding pass?”
I smiled broadly. It was the kind of exaggerated