Reflections…

In Summary;

…‘I suggest you choose the new tall guy’ what! Was this other girl actually opining her on boys? I had to eavesdrop, and thanks to my sharp ears, I overheard her saying, “I don’t like tiny ones anyway kama hiki kimtu kimekaa nyuma yetu...” I looked around…

 In life, there are things that bring meaning to life, life markers that reflect the self – you, what you stand for and why you exist. When I was younger and dumber I fell in love that was a stage in life which every man goes through. A real man loves at least once in his life. Do not take it wrongly if it happens to you repeatedly.

I am a storyteller and apparently, there are many of us out there and everyone is fighting for your spot. Yes! It is a fight. We want you to keep coming back, with curiosity and that flame in you, what is he saying now? Is he still bragging about the now called light skins? Alternatively, is he still pretending to hurl this negative energy to the opposite sex? Are they still singing about the same things in different rhythms or is he going to dare every living soul just to stay in the limelight? What is your story?

Men are obsessed with gadgets and tech as women it goes without saying that new cars and latest cell phone models light them up. I could go on and on about the latest phones’ speed, capacity and all it comes with but I will let the other storytellers to do their thing too. My first gadget – more of a tool than a phone – had no internet. I had a memory card that could only support 30 songs and having a change of those was a completely new hustle having the risks of losing your memory card or coming down to less than 10 songs or none. It served as my watch, alarm, gaming gadget, mobile phone, camera (five pictures max), radio and companion.

Remember that first date?

Fresh like yesterday, I had a crush on this fine mama back when I was only 14, she had this pretty and flashy smile, which apparently, was the only thing that my innocent eyes could see then. I thought about her each time I went back to the dormitory and made sure I mentioned her name before the angels could carry me to fairyland. In my litanies, she was the focal reason, “please God keep that little angel safe for me, and I know you know her too. Amen,” as I submitted with a follow – through smile.

Days, weeks, months passed by, and the relationship was working out, notably well. Jealousy was the least of attributes heightened when anyone made a damn move on ‘my girl’. I felt depraved if she smirked at anyone but me, I had to do something; I had to set boundaries, I had to let her know that she was mine and mine alone…

One fine Sunday morning, having a loose schedule, I woke up early, the steaming porridge was no match for me and the manual work was over in a moment, I took out my best pair of shorts and slid in them. I took a shower, it did not mean much then, but on that particular Sunday, I was compelled to. My girl had to see the best of me. We shared a class yes, but this was completely different. My Valon jelly that was rarely opened had a taste of fresh air – I was ready.

Class – the only place I would find her. I walked in that room, head held high, worth a million dollar, and true to my thinking, she was there, I knew her more than anyone thought… she was not alone. She was in the company of her friend whom I reviled. She was loosely into boys and this could spoil my girl. I took a seat behind the girls and waited unwearyingly for that opportune moment.

Those few minutes felt like ages, so I decided to take out a textbook and run my eyes through some pictures, it helped sometimes… ‘I suggest you choose the new tall guy’ what! Was this other girl actually opining her on boys? I had to eavesdrop, and thanks to my sharp ears, I overheard her saying, “I don’t like tiny ones anyway kama hiki kimtu kimekaa nyuma yetu...” I looked around… there wasn’t anyone else. My heart was minced into fine pieces that it could not hold up anymore. I broke up with her. I went back to put on my dirty weekend short, it was weekend anyway right? I sank my head into the weekend fiesta, just to rubbish the callous reality.

Says, Moses Nyaemo