Wafula the Fixer

Wafula counted the crumpled bills in his hand, sighing at his dwindling savings. The month had barely started, and he'd already stretched his budget thin. Yet, the idea of purchasing plumbing books lingered. The thought of being exposed as a fraud gnawed at him daily. While he had managed to delegate tasks smartly, his lack of expertise was bound to catch up with him sooner or later.

After much deliberation, he walked into a second-hand bookstore in downtown Nairobi. The musty scent of old paper hit him as he browsed through shelves, finding books on construction and plumbing. After spending what little money he had, Wafula left the store clutching a small stack of books under his arm. His resolve to learn was firm, even if his circumstances made him feel like the butt of the universe's cruel joke.

That evening, seated on the edge of his worn-out bed, Wafula flipped open the first book. With a dry course meal in hand and a plate of rice and boiled beans, he began to read. As he studied, he chuckled to himself, imagining his ancestors watching over him.

"Others get to be pilots, doctors, inventors... and here I am destined to be the king of pipes and wrenches," he muttered, laughing at his own joke.

The laugh faded as he dived deeper into the material. His concentration wavered at first, but soon his thoughts began to spiral. Before he knew it, he felt the strange pull again the same one from his previous encounter with the intrusive thoughts.

Without warning, he found himself in the white space.

This time, Wafula barely had a moment to grasp what was happening before his body felt heavy. He collapsed inside the space, unable to keep himself upright. When he awoke, he was back in his room, the books scattered on the floor. His stomach growled loudly, and his limbs felt like they were filled with lead. Every movement was a struggle, like he had worked three consecutive shifts at the construction site.

"Whatever this is," he muttered, clutching his aching ribs, "it's going to kill me if I'm not careful."

Determined to recover, Wafula made himself a heavy breakfast of eggs, bread, and tea. The food revived him slightly, but he resolved to avoid triggering the intrusive thoughts again. For now, it was better to focus on what he could control: his day job and earning his first paycheck.

---

A month flew by like a whirlwind. The construction site, which had barely reached its third basement, now stood proudly two floors higher. Wafula had avoided reading or doing anything that might reawaken the intrusive thoughts. He wasn't about to risk collapsing again. He had ambitions to fulfill, children to sire, and, as he often joked to himself, pipes to fix.

On a particularly sunny morning, the construction site buzzed with anticipation. Word had spread that the senior bosses, including heads of every department, were coming for a surprise inspection. Wafula's heart pounded as he gathered his workers and organized them into teams. He assigned tasks that would showcase their progress, ensuring every corner of the site looked presentable.

The bosses arrived mid-morning, their convoy of sleek cars kicking up a cloud of dust. Among them was the head plumbing engineer, a man named Engineer Otieno. Dressed in a crisp white shirt and a reflective vest that looked more decorative than functional, Otieno exuded authority. His clipboard and rolled-up blueprints were the tools of someone ready to scrutinize every detail.

Wafula stood straight, determined to hold his ground.

The inspection began, with Otieno and the other bosses examining the site meticulously. Otieno's sharp eyes caught a minor deviation in one of the plumbing setups. It was a slight change in the connection of a pipe, barely noticeable to anyone else.

"This pipe installation," Otieno said, his voice carrying a condescending edge, "isn't according to the plan. Who approved this?"

The workers looked at Wafula, who stepped forward.

"I did," Wafula replied respectfully, but with a firmness that surprised even him.

Otieno raised an eyebrow. "Are you aware that deviating from the plan is a breach of protocol?"

"Yes, sir," Wafula said, "but the adjustment was necessary. The plan didn't account for the slope of the terrain at that point. If we had followed it exactly, the pipe's flow efficiency would have been compromised."

Otieno frowned, clearly displeased at being corrected. "And what qualifies you to make such decisions?"

Wafula swallowed the lump in his throat. "With all due respect, I studied the situation thoroughly before making the change. The adjustment improves the overall system, and I'm confident it's more effective than what's on the blueprint."

To prove his point, Wafula explained the technical reasoning behind the change, referencing calculations he had made on-site. The other bosses, intrigued by his explanation, nodded in agreement.

Otieno, however, was visibly irritated. His ego had taken a hit, being corrected by someone he deemed less knowledgeable. But he couldn't argue with the logic.

"Fine," Otieno said curtly, scribbling something on his clipboard. "But I'll be keeping an eye on this."

The inspection continued without further incident. By the end of the day, Wafula had earned the respect of his workers, who had witnessed his confident handling of the situation. For the first time, they began to see him as more than just a bumbling supervisor.

As the sun set and the bosses left the site, Wafula allowed himself a small smile. It had been a challenging day, but he had managed to prove himself. However, the encounter with Otieno left a bitter aftertaste.

---

Later that evening, Wafula sat on his bed, replaying the day's events in his mind. The respect he had gained from his workers was a small victory, but it also brought new pressure. He couldn't afford to mess up again, especially with Otieno watching him like a hawk.

For now, he pushed the thoughts of the intrusive white space to the back of his mind. Whatever it was, he would deal with it later. Right now, he had a job to keep and a reputation to build.

As he drifted off to sleep, a faint voice echoed in his mind, almost like a whisper: 'Knowledge is power. Use it wisely.'

Wafula's eyes shot open, his heart racing. The words lingered, leaving him both curious and unsettled. What lay ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: his journey was far from over.