My 8-to-5 job sometimes tosses me into the hallowed corridors of justice—not as a legal mind, though I wouldn’t mind being addressed as “learned friend.” After all, I did some learning too, mostly in life’s classroom.
One thing I’ve noticed: It’s rare to spot a Mhindi in court. The hard benches are usually filled with haggard Kenyans sporting coarse hair like mine—stubborn and defiant—facing charges like loitering without purpose, hawking without a license, or being drunk and disorderly (a national sport).
Even rarer is a Mhindi showing up for a paternity case. Either they have a special talent for keeping zippers tightly locked or some strong Indian juju that wards off child-support claims. Maybe both.
But that doesn’t mean that there has never been a paternity case involving a Mhindi in our courts. The first such paternity case in our courts, uncle argues, involved this Kalasinga who had settled in Limuru area in the 1930s.After servicing noisy diesel engines all day, he too needed servicing. So he befriended a local lass called Njeri who would often drop in for a tumble in the hay-or ‘routine maintenance’ if you like. However, the bearded Sikh was also aware that the girl was rolling with his employees too, more so after pay day.
Then came the day Njeri started eating soil—a surefire pregnancy alarm in the village. Her sharp-eyed mother launched an inquiry, and under pressure, Njeri pointed an accusing finger at the Kalasinga. When confronted, the Kalasinga jumped the pregnancy, declaring, “I fix engines, not skirts!”
Still, the case ended up in court. Being a man of strategy, the Kalasinga played hide and seek, stalling proceedings until Njeri gave birth. His spies soon delivered crucial intel: the baby had a flat nose and coarse hair—distinctly un-Kalasinga features.
In court, he straightened his beard and confidently addressed the magistrate: “In India, down goes maize, up comes maize. In Kenya, down goes maize, up comes beans. Vy, Your Honour? Vy?”
The courtroom erupted in laughter. The court ordered the child to be produced in court. When the magistrate saw the tot’s African looks, the case was dismissed-and the girl admonished for wasting the precious time of His Imperial Majesty’s court.