Two months after I graduated from university and landed a relatively well-paying job in a blue-chip company in Nairobi, I felt that I needed independence from my relatives. Time, I told myself, had come for me to enjoy the fruits of my labour uninhibited.
I needed freedom and embarked on a house-hunting mission. After a few days of searching, I secured a two-bedroom rental house along Thika Road that went for Sh15,000 a month.
The terms of occupancy required that I pay two months’ rent as deposit and Sh5,000 for electricity and water deposit.
The due date for rent was strictly on the fifth day of every month, failing which, I was warned, I would pay a penalty fee of Sh1,000 and an extra Sh250 for every day defaulted.
All these, plus a set of other terms and conditions, were contained in a four-page document.
In addition, I was required to pay Sh2,000 for a lease agreement, which was passed on for my signature together with a bunch of keys for the house.
As the agent was in a hurry, he requested that he leaves the document and picks it up the following morning after I had read, understood, and signed it.
I did not want anyone bothering me in the morning, least of all on a Sunday, so I hastily appended my signature and paid the fee. My copy went straight to the top drawer.
Early this year, I gave notice of intention to move out of the house because the ongoing road works on Thika Road had begun to interfere with traffic flow, creating heavy snarl-ups every morning and evening.
But, when I went to ask for a refund of my deposit, the agent thundered: “Kijana, umeharibu nyumba ya Mzee na unaitisha pesa?” (Young man, you’ve damaged the house yet you still want your deposit back?)
He then pulled out a piece of paper from his drawer with a list of all the items alleged to have been damaged, most of which were ruined even before I moved in. The total cost was Sh50,390.
After a closer scrutiny of the four-page agreement, I realised that my options were limited. A clause read: “The tenant has checked and confirmed that the house is in good condition and that, where necessary, pointed out to the landlord of any repairs needed.”
Source: Daily Nation
loooool that man is a scam bag .
This was one of the “red flags” for the situation: “As the agent was in a hurry…” This sets one up for “tenant has checked and confirmed that the house is in good condition…” Thus, define “good condition”. Does it equate to “good enough to move in?” This is precisely how corruption works in worldly systems. It’s what I call a “gotcha” clause in lieu of details; relativism at its best in the real estate rental industry.
Reblogged this on kariuki waweru.