Bhang in Luanda Town

After a few puffs of *Omusala*(cannabis)at Luanda Bunyore, Njoro Mr know it all looked at me like he had never seen me before.

"Bro unakaa familiar nimewai kukuona wapi?"He asked me.

Over the weekend, we spent some time with Njoro and Lipua Lipua at Luanda the small Jamaica of Kenya and Bunyore. Luanda is a small business town after Maseno on your way to Busia. (Border town between Kenya and Uganda).

At Luanda town all the vinyozis are playing reggae music. A group of red eyed idlers are seated on a bench outside the kinyozi shaking their cannabis sativa filled heads to the tune of Reggae. Bhang is sold in public by guys disguised as madmen. They peddle Omusala commodity in broad daylight. It is said out of 10 Wanyore's (locals of Luanda) 9 use cannabis.

Our host Otichilo at Emusire welcomed us warmly. He had prepared ugali wa mtama, kuku kienyeji and mboga za Kienyeji.

After lunch Lipua Lipua demanded to irrigate his throat. He has a habit of testing and sampling changaa and Busaa in every new place that he visits. He will later brag at the village how his tongue has tested liquor from different communities. Otichilo took us to his local Joint which is a den for changaa and weed.

On arrival the locals took one look at us and ran in all directions. We were also about to run for our dear lives when Otichilo shouted at his top voice that Njoro and I are not police officers.

When Njoro son of the slopes realized that someone had mistaken his for a police officer, the gene that comes with his tribe woke up. He told them that we are cops stationed at Luanda but we were there to sip not to arrest anyone. He knows the word cop means free liquor. When Lipua Lipua pulled Ariel and realised that there are chances of free liquor, he introduced me as his son working for NIS. He proudly added that I can fight the whole village and he had seen videos of me fighting Alshabab on my laptop.

Two bottles of Jik were placed on the table as a free treat to us. I saw a cunning smile on Lipua Lipua's face. Njoro had already changed his slang from broken Kiswahili sounding like Kikuyu to that of kiganjo boys. Someone lighted a joint and passed over.

Otichilo asked Njoro if he had ever used cannabis and Mr know it all told him how he had used Heads only at Kariobangi and how he uses Shash direct from Isiolo and not the local stuff that the guys are passing over.

After a few puffs, the effects of weed and machozi ya Simba started taking control of him. He started laughing sheepishly,lost in his own imaginary world as if staring at a one million shillings cheque.

He then noticed that am staring at him enjoying his madness in disbelief. Our eyes met and unbelievably, Njoro bluntly asked,

"Bro unakaa familiar, nimewai kuona wapi ?"

I was dumfounded...no words could come out of my dry mouth.

That's when I knew all was not well. Hi ya Luanda imepandwa Kwa kaburi. Hakuna macheso!