It was about five o’clock in the evening when I arrived at my
apartment. It was a warm, quiet, Sunday evening
and the silence was too loud. I went and
fixed myself a sandwich, grabbed a cup of coffee and proceeded with unpacking
my luggage. Reminiscing about the weekend and the events that had unfolded I
laid on my bed all smiles. I woke up the following morning feeling more
refreshed, energized and ready to face the week ahead. Arriving at my work station that Monday
morning, I found my desk loaded with files and documentation that needed to be
sorted. The holiday had given me a new spirit to handle any tasks that would impend. I sat
down cleared my work station and arranged my day’s activity. Hardly, had I done much when I noticed how time had flown as I worked from one document to another.
Amazingly, the week flew faster than I expected. Seated at
my workstation, I received a call from my landline. The security guard informed
me that there was a gentleman who was requesting to see me. I asked the guard
to allow the gentleman to come up to the office. As I was attending to one of
my fellow colleagues, I saw that she was staring at the entrance door trying to
signal that there was someone. I looked up from where I was seated and I saw Jerry. “Hello Jerry!” I greeted with enthusiasm as I offered him a seat. Jerry
responded with a smile as he sat on the visitors chair. I tried as fast as i knew how to delegate what had been left pending. Earlier during the week, I had requested in advance for an afternoon off as I expected that
Jerry would pick me on time. Jerry sat opposite my desk holding the car keys in his
hands. He had worn white short sleeved pilot shirt with a pair of khaki pants
and brown loafers. His finger nails were well manicured and his beard neatly
shaved. Jerry's cologne had filled the entire room. As he waited for me to finish, he sat there
fidgeting with his car keys and assessing the office from one corner to the
other. In twenty minutes time I was done, picked up my handbag, luggage and
followed Jerry to the parking lot. Jerry led me to his four wheeled black
well-polished car. Stepping into the passenger seat next to Jerry, I buckled up
and off we drove away. On the way, I was tempted to ask Jerry for information but he
was busy concentrating on the road hence I decided to lay back in silence and enjoy
the ride.
Arriving at the Likoni ferry, Jerry drove down to the car
waiting area to wait for the next in coming ferry. I could tell we were headed
for the South Coast but I wasn’t sure where in particular. After crossing the
ferry we drove past Ukunda to a place called Shimoni. Jerry parked his car and
asked me to take whatever I needed as we had to cross the ocean to the other
side. Being a gentleman, Jerry carried my luggage and walked me to the sea shore.
From a distance I spotted a white yacht docked at the seashore. We had to
remove our shoes and walk few meters into the water to board the yacht. In my
white Capri pants, navy blue shirt and white sandals, I followed Jerry's lead to the yacht. Jerry was kind enough to assist me into the
yacht which was being driven by an old Spanish man, who had brought along his
seventeen year old son. They were very friendly and chatty. The boat ride was
quite interesting as the old man gave me a brief history of his family and business. Hardly, had I laid back to enjoy the
conversation when I was told that we had arrived. The old man’s youngest son Guillermo,
about 6foot 2 tall, athletic body, unshaven look and long hair tied in a pony,
carried my luggage and led me to the hotel lounge. Walking through the lounge
on the far end I spotted a man seated on a high seat at the bar counter. The
man was wearing a lime green flowered shirt, a pair of jungle green shots and
brown flip-flops. He was chatting the bar tender who was busy trying to mix
some drinks. “Hola! We are here” shouted Guillermo to the men at the bar. The
man seated on the high chair jumped from his high seat and as he turned I
noticed that it was Hubert. Hubert was
very good at disguising himself and playing around with his looks. That was one
of the things that made me grow very fond of him. He was very creative and
playful. The world was like his acting stage where he could perform different
roles. He sure knew how to live life rather than exist.
Walking towards Guillermo and me, he smiled and as he
approached me, his arms went wide open ready to receive me. I was touched by his
sincere affection and his cheerful warm welcome. Hubert hugged and pecked me on
the left side of my cheek. “Welcome to Funzi Island Hannah.” He said. Hubert
led me to the bar area as Guillermo proceeded to take the luggage to where he
had been asked to drop. The bar tender passed a cocktail glass to Hubert who in
turn passed it over to me. As I sipped my cocktail I couldn’t help but notice
that Hubert was staring at me in admiration. He had this childish smile on. He
was observing every move I made, from sipping the cocktail to swallowing it, to
a point he caused me to blush. Excitedly, he asked if he could give me a tour
around the island, to have a glimpse of how the place looked like which I
obliged. With the cocktails in our hands we strolled out toured the Island. ‘Don Mateo has been a friend of my family for a very long
time, he and his son Guillermo have always made me feel at home here” said he.
Hubert went on to narrate how he met Don Mateo and how he came to Funzi Island
the first time. There was a spark in his eyes as he narrated about his first
encounter at Funzi Island. We walked past the white beach sand struggling to
lift our feet from sinking in the sand. Hubert led me to a path that had very
long pine trees. Barefooted we walked along the rough tiled foot path. The
whistling palms, the shaking leaves and the sound of the bird chapping in this
secluded Island made the tour more refreshing than any I had had before.
The sun had started shying away and hiding in the thick
clouds as it slowly went down to meet the horizon. Hubert received a call from Don Mateo and he
excitedly told him that he would be right there in a few minutes. We had
approached the scene of the cottages, the tents and the suites and Hubert asked
me to go freshen up and join him for dinner. He took me to the door step of the
suite that had my luggage and left to meet Don Mateo. I walked in to the front
door of the suite that was supposedly mine for the time I was staying at Funzi
Island. In awe my eyes moved from one direction to the other appreciating the
Spanish design that had been done in that suite. The furniture, the flooring,
the walls, the wall paint, the bed, the side tables and bed lamps were all
exquisite. A glass partitioning separated the bedroom from where the Jacuzzi
was placed. There was another entry door that led to a clock room which led to
the washroom. I managed to find my luggage unpacked and chose something free to
wear for the night. I picked a white, simple, cotton gypsy dress and a pair of
white sandals. I felt this would be good for an evening by the beach.
Following the demarcation and the directions, I found my way
back to the lounge, where I met Guillermo who happily escorted me to where
Hubert and Don Mateo were. As I approached closely I saw Hubert in a chef’s hat
and a white apron. As soon as he saw Guillermo and I, he picked a
wooden spoon, scooped the content he was making and walked over to meet us. His
left hand on my chin and his right holding the wooden spoon he placed it on my
lips so I could taste whatever it is that he had prepared. The look on my face
brought a huge smile on his. “Mmmmm!! Whatever that is, it tastes really nice!”
I complemented. He took me by the hand and led me to a table he had set for the
two of us. The table had white linen cover, lantern lamp, silver cutleries, white matching
crockeries, wine glasses and a bottle of wine that was being chilled in a
silver chiller bucket. Hubert pulled a sit for me and went over the kitchenette to
finish up his cooking with Don Mateo. “Did you know that I love to cook Hanna?”
He shouted from the kitchenette as he and Don Mateo threw in ingredients into the
meal they were preparing. It was an amazing sight to see. Here I was with the
most powerful man in my country and he was cooking a meal for us, and enjoying
it. I could see the passion in his eyes as he prepared the meal and arranged
the content on the plates. Holding two
plates in his hands Hubert walked back to our table placed my food first then
his and sat right across from me. He stretched his hands towards mine, held them in his and said a prayer. He then invited me
to eat. “Bon Appetit Madame Hannah” said he as he waited for me to take my
first bite. “Go on take a bite, am not going to eat until you take your first
bite” he confessed. Shyly, I picked up my cutlery and took my first bite. It was delicious. I
had never tasted good food like that in many years. You could appreciate every
spice that was used, every ingredient was just perfect. “It is called the
Paella, it is a Spanish traditional meal” said he as if he read the
question that was in my mind. He poured
me a glass of wine, unfolded his linen napkin placed it on his shirt,
selectively picked his cutlery and began to enjoy his meal. “I love the
Spaniards because they value their traditions and culture.” He went on “They
have some similarities with the Africans, they have values that guide them” As
he spoke I could tell that Don Mateo had done a very good job in influencing
Hubert to the Spanish culture. He knew almost everything about them. Hubert was
very chatty on this particular evening, more relaxed with a childish
truthfulness.
Don Mateo walked by our table to check on us. He was a man
in his mid-seventies, grey haired, deep brown penetrating eyes and his body was
still firm. He walked upright in his navy blue short, white T-shirt revealing
his white vest. Guillermo joined his dad and handed a guitar to Hubert.
Smiling, Hubert stood, took the guitar from Guillermo signaled Don Mateo and
strummed gently as if to pick the right key. The two gentlemen positioned themselves
slightly behind Hubert waiting for his lead. “Te pido de rodillas, Luna no te
vayas, Alumbrale la noche, A ese corazón, Desilusionado, A veces maltratado…..
“Loco, Por besar tus labios, Sin que quede nada por dentro de mí, Diciéndotelo
todo” I didn’t understand one word in Spanish but the emotions expressed by the
three gentlemen as they sang the song Loco by Enrique Iglesias featuring Romeo
Santos brought tears to my eyes. As his eyes met mine I felt that he needed me
as much as I needed him.
