Chapter 26: The Price of Hunger
Dina wasn't a fairy godmother.
She didn't fix Fred's life with a magic wand.
She simply gave him space — a corner of her room, a battered pillow, and one rule:
> "No dead weight. You stay, you hustle. No excuses."
Fred nodded.
He had no pride left anyway.
---
At sunrise, Dina dragged Fred through the dusty streets near Emerald University.
The air smelled of fried mandazi, sewage, and cheap cologne.
Vendors screamed over each other, selling everything from pirated novels to knockoff sneakers.
Students — mostly rich kids — breezed by in designer clothes, Gucci belts flashing, fake laughter pouring out like poisoned honey.
Fred watched them.
Watched how the beautiful girls tossed their braids and laughed into their phones.
How the rich boys flicked car keys around their fingers like weapons.
How the security guards bowed when a black Range Rover with the license plate "DADDY'S GIRL" pulled into campus.
Fred was invisible to them.
A shadow.
But soon...
He promised himself...
He would make them see him.
---
Dina introduced Fred to the brutal world of street gigs:
Washing students' cars for 50 shillings a pop.
Carrying shopping bags for spoilt girls who barely glanced at him.
Running errands like buying cigarettes, condoms, and takeout for drunk campus boys who slapped the back of his head if he was too slow.
Some days, he made enough for one decent meal.
Other days, nothing.
One day, a rich campus kid named Mark Ochieng' — son of a powerful senator — threw a banana peel at Fred after he finished washing Mark's car.
> "Know your place, street rat!"
The students around laughed.
Fred clenched his fists until his nails dug bloody moons into his palms.
But he said nothing.
He swallowed it.
All of it.
Because he had a plan now.
A secret fire.
---
One evening, as Fred scrubbed mud off a BMW outside a fancy campus dorm, he saw her:
Lina Mathenge.
Age: 20.
Height: 5'6".
Skin: Deep chocolate brown, smooth like velvet.
Eyes: Fierce, intelligent, almond-shaped.
Hair: Long natural curls bouncing with every step.
Outfit: White sundress hugging a slender but curvy figure, silver sandals, tiny diamond earrings.
She wasn't loud like other campus queens.
She didn't flaunt her wealth like the others.
She moved with quiet power — a girl who knew her worth without needing to shout.
Fred froze.
Something deep inside him twisted painfully.
Lina was laughing with her friends — the Top 10 Beauties of Campus everyone gossiped about.
Girls like:
Chantel Mwende — the fiery model.
Gloria Otieno — the preacher's secretly wild daughter.
Natasha Kareithi — the heiress who changed boyfriends like shoes.
Fred didn't belong in their world.
He was dirt under their feet.
But still...
His heart betrayed him.
For a second, he dreamed.
He dreamed of walking beside Lina.
Holding her hand.
Hearing her laugh because of something he said — not something a rich boy bought her.
It was foolish.
Pathetic.
But dreams were all he had.
---
Reality Crashes In
> "Oi! Street rat!"
Mark Ochieng' again.
Surrounded by his hyena-pack of friends.
He held out his Starbucks coffee cup like a king offering scraps to a beggar.
> "Fetch me another latte. Hurry before I call security."
Fred's blood boiled.
His face burned.
Lina and her friends were watching.
Laughing softly behind their manicured hands.
The humiliation crushed Fred's chest until he could barely breathe.
But he moved.
Obeyed.
Because he had no choice yet.
--
Later that night, Fred sat outside a cheap bar where rich kids partied.
He watched two drunk professors — both in their fifties — stumble out with giggling campus girls clinging to their arms.
The girls wore expensive wigs and fake eyelashes.
They kissed the professors like they meant it.
> "Sponsorship is survival," Dina said beside him, voice bitter.
"Don't judge. Judge the system that made it necessary."
Fred stayed silent.
But inside, his anger curdled into something darker.
Something dangerous.
---
One night, Fred went two days without food.
His stomach twisted painfully.
The world blurred around the edges.
He tried begging outside a KFC outlet, but a security guard chased him off like a stray dog.
Finally, too weak to move, he collapsed behind a dumpster.
Cold.
Starving.
Forgotten.
He dreamed strange dreams.
He saw Lina's face.
Saw himself wearing a sharp suit.
Driving a Ferrari.
Owning buildings.
Being someone.
Then he woke to the smell of rot.
And rats nibbling near his fingers.
---
That night, under the cruel indifference of the city stars, Fred made a vow:
> "I will build myself from blood and dirt. I will crawl through hell. I will take everything they said I couldn't have."
> "No matter what it costs."
And Fred meant it.
Even if it broke him.
Even if it turned him into something he couldn't recognize one day.
---