GOING, STAYING, COMING (DEPORTATION STORY)

Ay yo,

I promised y’all that I’d tell you how and why I was sent back. Well this mail explains going there. The next two are about staying and coming back. Friday 8th Sept 2000, I started my farewell to everyone and it all went perfect. Took pics of everyone and stuff, though I missed a few peeps. I reached home about 3:30 am.

Next mo’nin, I’m meant to be at the airport at lunchtime and I’m woken up at 9 am coz I have to go for some medical thang. I was told not to eat after 10 pm the night before and not even drink water. I could not even have a drop of water in the mo’nin. Anyway so there I was falling asleep everywhere and mom has this great idea of making me re-pack my bags. Just coz the other bag bust a few stitches.

So packings done and its time to fly out. The thing I hate most coz just one look at moms face when she’s about to cry and she make me do the same. I can’t believe pops cried too. My dad actually had tears, well no one could see mine coz I was wearing shades. Ok, now I’m on the plane. I had 2 stopovers. Abu Dhabi and Bahrain. Yo, I got to watch Gone in 60 Seconds. Everyone knows I’m not into cars but after watching that movie. Wow.

The woman next to me had I think 3 babies with her and they were making noise like hell. Everyone was scorning her, I wanted to too but come on look at the poor mama, she had to take care of 3 kiddos and she looked so dead. Then she fell asleep and I was there watching my movie and making sure them kids don’t vanish. They was sweet but noisy. Mama’s asleep and somehow her blanket went under her so I put mine on her, but now I’m freezing, so I shared the little that was not on her. Next mo’nin, we’re landing and one kid needs the loo.

Now what? Coz they can’t get off their seats, kids screaming like shit, the hostess starts blasting mama telling her that her kids spoilt. Everyone else is getting cranky and now the people behind us told mama to let her kid do her do’s on the floor. Hhhhheeellppp. I don’t wanna see no shit near my feet, so I do my best to distract the kid making my radio, train, wheelbarrow, telephone and car sounds. The people behind are laughing coz I’m doing my best to stop the kid unleashing his smelly little dragons near my hand luggage. Ha ha ha.

I reach Heathrow and that’s where things start going down. The lady asks me questions, I answer them. Dad told me just to say that I’m going on holiday to UK only. But the woman was asking so much, so fast and I got scared and on top of that I’m hopeless at lying. So this is how I fucked up ‘I’m gonna go to Ireland to talk to some people about work.’ she’s was like “what did you say?” I said “no, I’m just gonna talk about work”. She says, “but you mentioned work and you don’t have no work permit”. Oh great, me and my big mouth. Then she told me to wait, after waiting she told me she was gonna send me back. I was like no man. Then she told me to wait some more. I was told that they stopped me like that coz firstly I came from them Arabic places, second I wore a t-shirt that said holy Koran and my chains and straps and stuff. What’s that meant to mean, I’m not related to Bin Ladin or shit. I don’t have no bombs in my bags.

While waiting for the third time I was led to this ‘room’ and there was this African girl in rags asking me to call someone for her. So I help her call but she don’t have no money, ok fine I help her with a pound, she sits on the phone gets some more numbers to call and I help her but now she wants more pounds. I hate saying no so I keep feeding her pounds till finally I’m called. The lady tells me I can stay for 2 days as the have no flights. You guys believe me, faith in Jesus and the Holy Spirit works.

Ok so that’s that, but now another Indian lady escorts me to my bag’s and makes me open them, then she checks them inch by inch. And mom had packed lot of Indian food for my unc’s and aunts. Then she saw these leaves what we put in our Indian soup I think you spell them… Limbro. This woman’s Indian and she pretends she don’t know these leaves and gets them tested. First of all she unpacks my stuff and then does not pack it back properly. She’s gonna be a bad bad wife. They even keep my Gillette mach 3 claiming its a weapon. What the ****???? Oh, and most of my pics were in the albums but these certain one’s of one of my ‘friends’ was separate and she kept them too, what was she bloody thinking, that I’m an assassin and the babe in the pic’s was a target or what. God help this woman. Anyway finally I was let out after all that shit.

****next attraction****
Staying in UK. The place I love to be.

Went and stayed
Bapuji ‘international’

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Ay yo once again,

Staying in UK was wicked ‘innit’. I always loved the place, especially the tube. Well anyway, so I had 2 day’s and so much to do, so many peeps to meet. Met most of my family on the first day, then at night we went to watch ’snatch’. Wicked movie, when you watch it focus on the guy that goes to US in a second and goes back in the other… And then goes back to US again. Does that remind you of a certain someone who just got deported????

Next day met my boys and as usual, the UK ritual, went to ‘pub’. I cant understand how people like to ‘enjoy’ alcohol so I was most of the time on water or soft drinks. By the way, no water, to my knowledge, can beat Kenya’s drinking water. Too sweet. Ok, then at night went to my cous’s and ended up in a ‘pub’ again. Haaaa. No wonder most of my UK boys have bellies. He he he he.

Next day… today I leave in the evening but in the mo’nin I went with my unc to try and get me to stay at least a bit longer….. Yeah right… That did not work. So I’m saying bye once again. Went on my lovely subway/tube/underground… Whatever you wanna call it. I love the tube, I could hang in them the whole day just watching all the characters.

Before I leave there was two things I had to get, just had to get ‘em. Firstly, my FHM of course, its like my bible and second was a case logic so that next time I move around I can carry my tunes with me. I packed very little, I left my hats, my lovely hats with my cous, my cd’s, my Snoop Dogg and Boyz II Men. Ohhhh noooo. And I left most of my clothes there too so I’m dressing like a bum now. I think that’s about it in the staying bit.

****last and final attraction****
Returning to the potholes of Kenya. The place I suffer so much.

Stayed and returned
Parasta

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This is ay yo no. 3,

Leaving was a hassle too. First of all the silly old lady booked me on the closest Gulf flight out of here, but, the flight was not even going to Kenya. I’d like to give her one sweet smack up side her head. On top of that, when I left Kenya I was told I’m allowed 30 kg to UK and 40 kg coming back to Kenya. What a psyche, I was only allowed bloody 20 kg. I had to leave one whole bag of my stuff in UK. I miss my stuff!!!!

Ok, so now I have to stop over at Bahrain and then stop over at Muscat where I transfer to Kenya airways. Hello, can someone give me a more peaceful way home???? Mom’s and my bro told me not to drink on the flight coz you get dehydrated and shit but I was so pissed off that I had a few whiskeys and a few red wines. I had a personal screen to watch what ever I liked. Oh by the way Gulu – there was no playboy channel ok. Ha ha. Anyway, so I’m really high with my head-phones watching Gone in 60 Seconds… Again. And I was laughing out really loudly, till the guy next to me shifted to some seat further behind me. Its funny coz every time I come back to home on a flight I always get the middle seats and my left and right are always empty so I had a good sleep.

Dinnertime, there was some beef thang and some chicken thang. I told the lovely lady I wanted both but she said she cant do that. I told her I was really hungry and high so she said she’ll give me if there is any remaining.

I reach Bahrain, shift to my Muscat flight and I see this young lady. We exchange eyes and I’m like ‘hell yeah’. Ha ha. Anyway, most of the time I was freezing, in the flight and in the airports (where I had to wait for 8 hours). Ok, I see this whole flock of Sri Lankan ladies and one ends up in the flight next to me. She don’t know English or Hindi, I don’t know what she was talking and I was trying to help her fill out some immigration thang. Her name was long and sounded like part of Scatman’s lyrics.

I reach Muscat, and mentioned young lady exits before me. I’m stalking her. Ha ha, but end up queuing in a different place. I had to transfer to Kenya Airways and my stopover was like a lot of hours so they book me in this 5 star place. Lovely place, I also met a Tanzanian and we started rapping in Swahili, exchanged contacts and then I asked him if he saw this lovely lady I was talking about. He warned me, he said I would be fined heavily if I tried anything here, I heard in Dubai too you cant vibe ladies just like that. “Damn!!!!”

Now I’m in my room, shower shower, and I thought I was gonna sleep coz through out everything I was so tired and sleepy. But I did not get no sleep. So I kept watching movies and stuff. Dinner at the place was all good. A lot of meat, but then minutes later my stomach disagrees with the food.

My flight comes, I sleep the whole flight and reach Kenya. Now more probs to come. I call pops first so he knows I’m there then, I fill my stuff and give it in, but Heathrow stamped something that the Kenyan authorities recognized as bad. So I tell them the whole work permit story but no, they don’t wanna listen. Instead the put me in a room with some guys who have spent two days in this room. The room was just newspapers and writings on the wall about all the people that have been here.

The guy who took me there did not want my fam to know that I was here but I gave him a little some something and he told my bro. The fool even took more money from my bro. Ha ha. I fall asleep and these other ‘fugees’ in the room start reading my FHM and checking my bag and stuff. I woke up and I was like “the f***’s wrong with you guys????!!!!!!” I was scared coz they could even ‘bum rape’ me but I acted as tough as I could. Luck was on my side this time.

Anyway, then we’re taken to the main place ‘Nyayo House’. We reach there and I hear dad’s voice, I never felt so happy listening to his rough and tough vocals calling my name. He sounded like the sweetest bird I know. Ok, dads there, nothing to worry about, so they put us all in this room with heavy grills on the doors and windows. Meanwhile dad was sorting my
Situation, I could not be happier.

Then I reached home. And we all lived happily ever after. This is the first time I’m not gonna complain about the corruptness of these peeps here. Pop’s planning to sue, I’m back at home suffering even more than before and I feel so crappy coz peeps are gonna think that I never even went to
make my life. The question is, why am I still smiling and not disturbed about it??? The answer is, coz I’m holding it all in so badly, I myself am also scared that any second now I’m gonna blow. ‘Loose canon, time bomb….’ call it what you will just remember one thing… Now you can claim to know a fool that went round the world and traveled thousands of miles just to visit family/friends and buy just two things FHM and a bloody case logic. Its like I went for a spin round the bloody world. I guess ‘Paras International’ is quite and apt name.

**** the end ****

Returned and stuck
Parasberries

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