The construction site buzzed with the faint hum of productivity as workers milled about the basement floor. Despite being only on the third basement level of what was supposed to be a towering residential building, the progress felt sluggish. Wafula, now the self-proclaimed supervisor of the plumbing team, knew he needed to keep things moving—not necessarily for the company's benefit, but to avoid being exposed as the fraud he believed himself to be.
"Ok guys, let's do some pointing for the drainage system," Wafula barked, trying to sound authoritative. His team, barely hiding their amusement, shuffled off to get started.
The truth was, Wafula didn't really know much about pointing or plumbing for that matter. His miraculous "system" had failed to manifest again, leaving him with nothing but his wits and a growing sense of dread.
Satisfied that his crew was busy enough not to need constant supervision, Wafula slipped away from the site. His destination? The Nairobi Public Library. If the system wouldn't save him, maybe some good old-fashioned knowledge would.
---
The library was a quiet sanctuary, worlds apart from the noise and chaos of the city. Wafula stepped inside, immediately hit by the faint smell of old books and varnished wood. He approached the librarian, a stern-looking man with wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.
"Plumbing," Wafula mumbled.
The librarian raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he pointed Wafula toward a dusty corner filled with technical manuals. Wafula thanked him and wandered over, grabbing a few books with titles like *Introduction to Plumbing Systems* and *Practical Drainage Solutions*.
He settled into a creaky chair near the window, flipping through pages filled with diagrams and explanations. At first, the words felt like a foreign language. Terms like 'pipefitting,' 'vent stacks,' and 'traps' made his head spin. But Wafula was determined.
As he read, his concentration began to deepen. The diagrams started making sense, and he could almost see the systems in his mind. He wasn't sure if it was the books or something else, but a strange clarity began to settle over him.
---
On his way to find more books, Wafula stumbled upon a shelf labeled "African Beliefs and Mysticism." Curiosity got the better of him, and he picked up a slim volume titled 'Hidden Powers of Africa' by unknown author.
He flipped through the pages, reading about ancient traditions that claimed some people were born with extraordinary abilities. The book detailed tales of rainmakers, healers, and curse-breakers, individuals who wielded powers that defied explanation.
"Some are born with the power to create love," Wafula read aloud, his voice barely a whisper.
The stories fascinated him, but he quickly shook his head and put the book back on the shelf. "Magic," he muttered. "It's just stories to entertain kids."
Yet, as he returned to his plumbing books, the words lingered in his mind. What if there was some truth to it? Could his experience on the construction site be connected?
---
As Wafula dove deeper into the plumbing manuals, he found himself lost in thought again. His eyes glazed over as his mind drifted, and suddenly, he was back in the white void.
This time, it was different. The space felt less like an empty abyss and more like a workshop. In front of him, a figure moved with purpose. It wasn't a copy of himself like before, but another man who appeared to be older, with a wise, weathered face.
The man was working on a plumbing system, his hands moving with expert precision. Wafula watched as he connected pipes, adjusted fittings, and tested water flow. Every movement was deliberate, every action efficient.
"Who are you?" Wafula asked, his voice echoing in the void.
The man didn't respond. He continued working, his focus unbroken.
Wafula noticed something peculiar: the man wasn't just working on one solution. He was experimenting, trying different methods and observing the results. It was like watching a 3D film, with ideas coming to life before his eyes.
As Wafula watched, a thought struck him. "Is this… the author of the book I'm reading?"
The realization sent a shiver down his spine. Was this some kind of imprint left behind by the author? A manifestation of their knowledge? Wafula didn't know, but he couldn't look away.
He felt the information seeping into his mind, as if he were absorbing the man's expertise through osmosis.
---
A sudden tap on his shoulder jolted Wafula back to reality. He blinked, his surroundings coming into focus. He was still in the library, hunched over the plumbing book.
"Excuse me," a voice said.
Wafula looked up to see the librarian glaring down at him, arms crossed.
"It's time to leave," the librarian said.
Wafula glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was well past closing time. The library was empty, save for the two of them.
"Sorry, I didn't notice," Wafula mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
The librarian's eyes narrowed as he glanced at the book in Wafula's hands. "Introduction to Plumbing?" he said, his tone dripping with disdain. "Of all the books you could spend hours on, you chose this?"
Wafula felt a flash of embarrassment but said nothing. He packed up his things and left the library, the librarian's judgmental gaze following him all the way to the door.
---
As Wafula walked home under the dim glow of streetlights, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The white void, the mysterious man, the knowledge he had gained. It was all too much to process.
He clutched the plumbing book tightly, as if it were a lifeline. He didn't know what was happening to him, but one thing was clear: he couldn't afford to stop now.
The system or whatever it was might have gone silent, but Wafula was determined to uncover its secrets.