• Jiji Ndogo faces its biggest mystery as a man in search of a 'client' comes calling
When I was a younger, more gullible human, I heard a story that scared me half to death. It was about a young man (we’ll call him John for the sake of clarity) who visited a friend at the Coast. They visited a bar, where they happened upon a beautiful young woman.
After downing a few bottles of liquid courage, John grew the balls to approach the girl. She lit up upon seeing John, even calling him by name. Her name was Jane, she said, and she was John’s neighbour back at their home village. Thing is, the Jane that John knew had died a long time ago. He had actually attended the funeral.
Jane explained that she and her father had fought over a boy and he had banished her from home. “I hitchhiked my way to the Coast and the rest is history.”
John and Jane hit it off and she invited him back to her fabulous house. Following a night of passion, John woke up the following morning lying atop a grave, his clothes carefully hanging on the cross.
This and other bizarre tales from the seaside had made me fear the Coast. I guess ghosts and I don’t go well together. Imagine my state of mind when a stranger visits our police post and shocks us half to death.
It starts out okay as the man clad in black from head to toe parks his Probox and approaches me at the desk. I’m alone since Sgt Sophia, my partner (and common-law wife), is in the loo.
The man takes off his black hat and gives me a sombre look. “Hello there. I’m afraid I might be lost and find this the most appropriate place to regain my bearing.”
“I’ll be glad to help however I can,” I tell him. “What’s your destination?”
He offers me a hand. “How rude of me. The name is Mort. Mort Ishan, and I’m headed to a place called Jiji.”
“You might be in the right place, Mr Ishan. This is Jiji Ndogo.”
“Oh, thank God. I’m from Eternal Rest Funeral Home, here to pick up the body of a recently departed man. Would you kindly point me in the direction of Serenity Estate?”
“Serenity Estate? Never heard of it. Neither do I know of anyone passing away recently.”
“But… this is Jiji, right?”
“We have no estates here. Just one small village. Are you certain you have your address right?”
He reaches inside his coat pocket and shows me a sheet of paper with the picture of a man and some info below it. “It sure says Serenity Estate on here.”
“I know Serenity Estate,” Sophia says at the door. “It’s in Jiji Kubwa.”
“Thank G—” The man doesn’t get to finish his statement.
The moment he sees Sophia he clutches his heart and crumbles to the bench by the desk. Worried, Sophia rushes to him, which only agitates the man further. He drops his bag, bolts to his vehicle and takes off.
“What was that all about?” Sophia wonders.
We rummage through the man’s bag in a bid to know how to reach him and inform him of the property he left behind.
Sophia takes out a huge folder bearing papers similar to the one Mr Ishan had shown me. “It’s a catalogue of all his uhm… clients?”
Suddenly, her eyes bulge, her mouth flops open, and she crumbles to the floor, dropping the folder. It’s open to the page of a woman called Edwina Kofu, who’s been dead for the last three years. On the page, clear as day, is Sgt Sophia’s picture.