The Ghosts of Westgate by Stanley Mungai (universal ebook reader TXT) 📕

“Assalamu Alalikum Wa Rahmatullahi Wa Barakatuh” another white gown down the road greeted as the Sheikh appeared.

The Sheikh ignored him and walked on a necklace in his hand as he caressed the beads that braced the cold morning bravely and sighed with relief from his warm fingers.

“I greeted you Sheikh” he said again following him down the road.

Now the Sheikh obviously annoyed by the pestering man beside him stopped his mind wandering but his feet continued moving, turned to the man and asked. “What is more important? To converse with Allah or to return your greeting?”

“I am having this feeling that you are turning back from the faith that we have so closely upheld” the man in all white dressing answered turning to look at the Sheikh face and get a glimpse of hi reaction.

“We must learn to separate religious faith and secular Politics. That is how we will be close to the heart of Allah”.

“What politics Sir? If I may ask?”

“All this is Politics Shukri” the Sheikh said addressing him by the only name he knew. Even the Sheikh knew that this was a nick name because he had heard others address him by names that even he could not remember. “The world turned on us when we decided to make the two look like they mean the same while they do not. We lead people close to Allah and Politicians fight other politicians, either for their own interest or for peoples’ interest. The former is true for most of them and we cannot be sure which one we are following.”

“But Sheikh Abdiweli is no politician.”

“Oh really?” The Sheikh asked turning sharply to look at the surprised young man probably twenty by Sheikh’s Calculation.

“You did not bring up these concerns in the last meeting. Why are you telling this to me now?” Shukri asked carefully. He knew that though the Sheikh looked calm and undisturbed by his prodding, it was just a matter of time before he exploded, and you did not want to be caught in the blast radius. He had distracted him from his prayers and now he asked a myriad of questions which he knew the Sheikh did not want to answer. But he did. In a calmer voice, almost fatherly than he had ever heard the Sheikh speak in. “Who will be risking the police bullet or life imprisonment? Is it Abdiweli? No, it is you Shukri. Who has no offspring to carry forward this God-given life? It is you Shukri. Allah intends all humanity to live and live peacefully. It is people like Abdiweli who are doing against Allah’s will and make you dies for it.” The Sheikh said leaving out the title of Sheikh deliberately and almost desperately for the young foolish man to grab the straws and make sense out of them. And he did.

“I am sure Sheikh Abdiweli would like to be addressed by his rightful title.” Shukri put in.

“He is no Sheikh, young man, Keep that in mind. You do not become Sheikh by the number of people you kill, but the number of lives you let live according to Allah’s will. If Allah wanted them to die, do you think he would have created them?”

“You will not say this to Abdiweli, promise me.” Shukri imploded the now astonished Sheikh. How much did this young man care. He was a puppet of the so called mujahidin.

“Why what do you care” the Sheikh found his voice.

“You have taught me, and taken care of me since my parents died. You are the only family I know and you know Abdiweli hates getting opposed.

The Sheikh thought for a moment now entering through the gate of the Mosque. He for the last time looked at the begging eyes of the young man and agreed. “For you then I will not tell him, but I want you to know that I am not afraid of him or anyone else.”

They walked without talking past the prayer hall, through a hidden passage behind the bookcase, down the stairs until they came out on another door that perfectly fitted the passage. The Sheikh who led the way paused for a moment at the door and looked behind at the young man behind him. They both nodded a silent agreement before walking in without knocking. Five men including two Sheikhs we seated on a mat discussing something in low tones. The Sheikh on the far left greeted then in. “Welcome brothers.”

The two sat down without saying a word. The room was lighted by a single lantern that stood in the middle of the circle that the seated men made. It was difficult to make out anything of notice in this light except for the faces of each of the men seated in the Circle.

“We shall go through the protocols Once more.” Abdiweli said looking keenly at Sheikh Hassan whom he had suspected was not playing the same fiddle with the rest of the group. But they had to keep him in the loop. He was the person in charge of this mosque and anything happening without his knowledge would prove dangerous whether he knew of it or not.

“Before we go through the Protocols.” Sheikh Hassan put in unceremoniously. Shukri looked at him suddenly with those You-Promised-Me eyes that made even the most selfish man put money into his wife’s hands. The others unperturbed by his unwelcomed interruption just turned slowly to allow the opinion of this one man who had the capability to blow the entire operation.

“I need to make it clear that this is the last meeting we are having here. You can use my living room if you want but not here.” Hassan put in gesturing Abdiweli to proceed laying out the protocols for the operation that was to happen this morning when the sun was up.

“And why is that Sheikh?” Sheikh Hussein who had not spoken till now asked trying as much as possible not to sound judgemental.

“We are being watched brothers.” The Sheikh lied. “If we continue this for a few more days, it may prove dangerous.”

“How can you be so sure about this?” Abdiweli asked getting interested.

“I have also noticed with great concern two policemen every day hidden at the M-PESA Junction just next to the Bank.” Shukri Added. The welcome look from the Sheikh hit him like a draught out from an oasis in a hot desert. All attention was turned now to him and when no one asked more questions, Sheikh Hassan added, “Safety procedures.”

“Protocols!” Called Abdiweli for the second time telling the attendants that this was agreed. Sheikh Hassan was the leader of the operation. The only operation he had agreed to take up.

“We shall survey two targets, Times tower and Nyayo house. “ Shukri came in reciting something that he had done too many times.

“Interest in the targets?” Abdiweli asked

“We are to identify Security checks procedures, peak hours and ideal points from where to carry out car Bomb attacks.”

“Is that all?” the Sheikh asked looking now towards a scrawny figure who had no spoken till now. His name was Zarqawi but no one knew his real name. He had joined in from Garissa and the people who sent him from there never said what his name was. Only when he arrived at Eastleigh in Nairobi did he say he was Zarqawi. Whether it was his real name or an alias, no one knew and no one cared. All they wanted him to do was fulfil his obligations and assignments.

“We are to explore the vulnerability of accessing the buildings using fake identification documents obtained from River Road”.

“Good.” Said the Sheikh. “This time you will sneak in a Pistol without getting detected. You have already done so with a laptop but today you will carry a firearm. Pass it I and out without detections and you will be ready”

Abdiweli walked to a metallic box stowed away at a corner with robes spewing out. The last time Zarqawi had seen such a box was the one he had carried his belongings in at high school. The garments were only concealment for what lay inside. Below the garments grinned woefully a Pistol, two suicide vests, twelve hand grenades and two AK-47 assault rifles. Sheikh Hassan grimaced at the sight of the Weapons. No one had told him that this otherwise crude collection resided in his mosque basement.

“This is the other stuff that has to be taken out of here for safety precautions.” The Sheikh said. He needed not say so. By now Abdiweli has made up his mind to move all the resources including humans and weapons far away from the Mosque. They walked out all of them in one file into the prayer hall. Shukri tallied with Sheikh Hassan and beyond the ears of the other asked, “What was that about?”

“This is the house of prayer and it will be treated with respect while I am around. As long as I am around. If Abdiweli want to scheme against the Kenyan government, he can do it elsewhere for all I care, but not here. As for you, I wish you Allah protection. I will not be responsible for anything that befalls you.”

“I understand” Shukri said walking away from him. He knew faltering from this assignment meant suicide.

I am still writing … please give an opinion

Text: Stanley Mungai
Publication Date: 08-27-2014

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