The beginning of December Holiday, last year, my village was unusually crazed with betting fever; if not sportpesa it was Lotto, if it was not Betin and Betika it was Tatua tatu. 

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There was frenzy everywhere with everyone; young and old, men and women gambling their meager hard-earned bucks in these numerous punting outlets.

It was after seeing this growing gambling habit that Jozzy, a butcher at our local shopping center, saw an opportunity to make a kill out of it. He opened a casino next to his butcher and placed two roulette machines inside the joint.

These roulette/ spin-wheel machines operate with Ksh. 10 and 20 coins respectively as bets and each has a one-reel slot with up to 15 possible stops-positions, each with different stakes to be won; the highest being Ksh 3000.

Few days after Jozzy had installed the gambling machines, which were christened Lotto, the casino burst with excited gamblers jostling to dip their coins on the slots and wait for the rotating lights to make a stop on the various stakes they each placed. 

The machines seemingly knew when to make the punters happy and when to vex them. Fewer were the times the lights stopped at the highest stake but every other time, it did not leave the gambler empty-handed albeit with lesser coins each time than the initial stakes.

One Saturday, while coming from Masaa, I passed by the Trading center to buy JUBILEE-UNGA; the Ksh 90 flour that government had imported from Mexico. 

Masaa is another name here for a casual job in which one gets paid per hour for digging out (harvesting) potatoes from the farm.

So in my bid to be a responsible father that caters to his family, I had worked for six hours that day and had been paid Ksh. 300.

To get to Pamela’s shop where I intended to buy the unga, I had to pass by Jozzy’s butchery and that was when my attention was captured by the punters crowding over the roulette machines at the casino. A thought entered my mind.

"I will go stake Ksh. 50, who knows maybe I will win Ksh. 3000 that will be enough for me to buy one sack of Maize and also settle busaa and changaa bill at Monica’s Breweries,” I convinced myself.

I entered the casino and roared at the crowd to give way for me to get to one of the machines. 

A well-off punter, I felt I was, should have a right of the way.

I stood in front of the machine and studied it with a wit of a seasoned casino gambler. Never mind that the nearest I had ever gambled was once when I wagered my life by crossing a one-tree-log-foot bridge while drunk.

With the attention that I had attracted while entering, the casino room was dead silent. All eyes were on me. I dropped five-ten shilling coins on the slot, placed the bets and pressed the play button. The rotating light went five revolutions and settled on one of the X3-stops.

There was a sigh from the spectators and I had to inquire what was wrong. 

I was told that the rotating light ‘just missed settling on X50 position’ meaning I would have won Ksh. 500. But since it had settled on X3-position, that meant I had won Ksh 30 of the Ksh.50 I had placed. 

Not bad, it was still won despite being less by Ksh. 20.

I was egged further to place another bet to at least recover my Ksh. 20. I placed Ksh 80. I got Ksh. 30.

I placed the third bet and this time round a volunteer came forward and tutored me on the OKOA bets (with high chances of winning) buttons. I played and this time I won Ksh. 70. That was encouraging.

I went on playing while being cheered by the already-sizable crowd behind me. A momentary celeb, I was.

I kept on winning and winning but my wins were always lesser than the bets I placed but I kept on dipping my hand into my pocket for more and more coins in hope that I would strike a jackpot.

It reached a point while dipping my hand into the pockets when I felt nothing anymore safe for my two stones only underneath the pockets. In disbelief, I frantically rummaged the pockets and brought them inside out but there were no more coins. I was out of money.

No one among my fans seemed to have realized what had just happened so while putting on a brave face, I announced that I had run out of coins and asked to be excused for a minute to go for more from the shop.

I walked out while controlling tears that were threatening to burst the bank. Once outside, I walked in the direction opposite from home while trying to figure how I was going to get home and face my kids without the unga.

My Peoples had made it clear in the morning to me that I should get back with that basic commodity for the neighbours had gotten tired with Lelaa, my kid, running to their various homes with a blue bowl borrowing unga.

While trying to figure what my next move would be, a thought to go back to the casino and break the machine began flashing in my mind. 

There was no way I was going to be robbed money meant to buy food for my kids. I needed to retrieve my money. I went back to the casino.