nilichoandika

Right here

January 2nd, 2019

This right here is a confession, a concession, a thought…call it regression, but for what it’s worth, it feels good to release these words.

I pick and prod at them.

My Mother always says “be careful with your words, they are the only thing you can never take back.”

So, I sit…right here.

“Every market has a mad man, I like that proverb,” you say. It’s five o’clock and your tie is loosened, your eyes are weary, but we both know you will stay up until midnight. So, you reach into your pocket…and look at me “No, I’ll not drown in cancer thanks to you.”

You laugh. You always laugh when I say this, but I am the one who knows that you puff at least six times a day…when a smoke becomes your meal, your break from the world, your alone time…you say you’ll come for counseling.

“How do you do it?” You ask, but right here…it feels like every word I say will be used to judge me, to hold me accountable for your expectations of me.

“Let’s get married on your birthday,” you say…but your eyes are focused on the people downstairs, a woman in a blue dress, pulls it up above her knees as she sits on a bodaboda. I know you are looking at me. I know you have always been looking, but when will you see me?

“Is that a ‘no’?”

I think of all the answers that could be further than a ‘yes’ but even a ‘not right now’ is not sufficient, so I say what comes to mind. “Have you ever wondered why it is easy to speak but difficult to listen?”

“I’ll take that as a ‘never ask that of me again,’ and yes, I have. You make it difficult for me to be around you, your walls are so high up, I’m dying just thinking of how to scale them. But, what’s a guy got to do? It’s 2019, who knows maybe 2022?”

We laugh and you reach for my hand. You have a philosopher’s fingers, you reach into your pocket again and I take back my hand. You laugh.

“It’s the smoking…”

I look around and find my eyes in yours and you smile. “You are like a leaf, sometimes you are so refreshed you are borderline green, but sometimes you give off the feeling of being wilted beyond redemption, but you have to give me a sign some time, if not now, today, tomorrow or the day after that…I promise I’ll quite being grumpy.”

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New

January 1st, 2019

You are the stranger to my familiar.

We dance around these words, same people, new year, old feelings.

Where you stand, I am rooted

Where you drown, I sink only to be uprooted.

So, we dance around these things; like how your eyes follow me around a room, how you call me first thing in the morning, how you call me sometimes just to exhale…everyone but us accepts this space we create, we do not wish to inhabit it.

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I scare you

“What scares me the most about you is that I never know what you are thinking, sometimes…see, like right now, you look at me like you are sorting rice, taking out the wrong, and shoving the right aside.”

“Wait, what? Rice?”

“It’s just an analogy love.”

“Love?”

You are the stranger to my familiar, a presence I cannot deny. So like everyone else, we dance…my hand in yours, your hand around my waist and for everything I hold dear, it is my breath that I refuse to let go of…even as we rock back and forth, and in the slightest of tones you bend your head, whisper into my ear “…breathe.”

And so as the world counts down, every second of this new hope, I find myself drifting into the space we refuse to inhabit…and then, just when I choose to step back, you tilt my chin up, look into my eyes…and I see it.

So I close my eyes, let the tears fall and my world stops but yours, no, yours begins and you say “happy new year Love, come for me when you are ready to see what we are.”
Fruit or Truth

December 29th, 2018

I love bananas.

They are my favorite fruit because I am like the mist, I am here and there, a mystery even to myself, so eating something without the hassle of having to wash it first makes all the difference.

Grumpy was having one of his spells.

I remember walking into his kitchen and seeing this bunch of sweet bananas, picking one, peeling it and eating it.

He was in the sitting room, having one of the rhetorical conversations that made me question if he was Hamlet re-incarnated. It was at this moment that he turned and said “why would you eat a banana real slow in front of someone?”

“Wait, what?”

“Yes, you…standing there eating a banana like you are onto something! I need a break, do you want to get out of here? I mean, let’s go to Java, you can call that or call them and reserve a table anything but the sight of you eating a banana!”

“Neh!What’s up with you?”

“Let’s get going and are you calling Java or should I call?”

“Here, take my phone and call them…you just took the fun out of eating bananas, but I am carrying this bunch to eat when I get home, miles away from you…kwani what’s wrong with loving bananas? They have Potassium and that’s good for you! So stop hating…kwanza you and your oranges!”

“Eish! Look…pole, it’s just…don’t ever do that.”

“Eat a banana? It’s the only fruit I love!”

“Look, I’ll be honest with you right now, but get in the car first, and maybe you won’t hit me while I am driving- but as the only person who can stand your weird, I’ll tell you the truth. Never eat a banana real slow in front of a stranger.”

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Hello

December 27th, 2018

It hurts knowing you could call me but you wouldn’t.

So, I sit on the edge of the bed, listen to the songs I played five years ago and drink black tea.

There is a fire inside of me, a raging fire that cannot be quenched by this tea, heaven knows I’ve had three cups already.

I would never admit it, no, we are raised better than that, I am your storm, the wind that knocked the breath out of you, the little hurricane that did not offer a storm warning, the witch from your ancestral land-oh, the one whom you never know where you stand…so you dance around the broken eggshells, cracking up a world unknown to us…

Oh, how sweet you are you wretched soul!

Now, listen…this is my fourth cup of tea and it still hurts knowing that you are somewhere…just somewhere in a world free from my presence…a silence that would fill you up when your guys ask “so where is she?”

You would knock your drink in one gulp, clear your throat, shrug your left shoulder and say “ah, si you know her…she is probably reading or something, she’s different.”

The ones who know you would nod and keep their raging thoughts to themselves.

The ones who envy you will send me a text.

The ones who wish they were you would call and for the love of everything that’s sweet and sour, I know it will be Him.

He will get up, say he’s going to take a piss, or he’s going to get something from the car and then he will walk five feet away from everyone and every little sound that might hide the beating of his heart and he’d scroll through my number on his contact list and call…He would wait, shaking his right leg, humming a tune or simply holding his breath until I pick up and he’d start “Hello…”

Photo Credit: Derick Aines/ Unsplash
Like Yarn

December 25th, 2018

My beloved is a master story-teller.

He spins tales like yarn.

Every word, every movement of his tongue, a widening of brown eyes- a smirk here, a dimple there, a drop in his pitch…a weaver of tales.

“I am with the guys.”

“I have been working on this ka-project.”

“Don’t worry, maybe next time, in fact, next time, it will work.”

“Good night.”

“I was calling to check up on you.”

My beloved is gifted in spinning tales, Oh how each word could be like a yarn of gold, I’d have built castles, rented out rooms and earned myself a holiday to Greece.

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My beloved is a master story teller.

And like a moth to a flame I find myself counting and looking forward to a thousand and one nights.
A sprinkle of joy

December 18th, 2018

I love chapati and yellow-green beans. I know this is an odd way to begin a post, but if there is one thing I have learned over the years is that the best of words can actually come tumbling out. Like that first statement. However, this season, brings many memories of how chapati marked our childhood.

I grew up in a family where Christian values were encouraged. This means that another meal was also hallowed- fish! Yes, fish was the dish that made an appearance at the table when we had either a fellowship or a visit from a senior member of the church.

Both fish and chapati were hallowed dishes because they were one, expensive and two, involved a tedious process of preparation. I never had time to scale fish and hated when those scales clung onto you making you stink all through the night. But, I thought about chapati- because over the years, it is the only dish that I can prepare at whim.

Yes, as long as there’s some baking flour and yellow cooking fat, I’m good to go. This thought, like a sprinkle of joy, hit me today as I was watching this Nigerian film and two siblings were fighting over a bowl of soup.

For us, eating chapati during Christmas meant that we could indulge in a very delicious treat and if you celebrated Christmas without eating chapati then you definitely qualified for 20/20 in the next year’s composition “The holiday I will never forget.”
What’s odd is that back then beef was readily available, but now it seems that the tables have turned and beef is rather expensive. A quarter kilo of beef now is enough to get me a kilogram of baking flour and what my friend calls ‘mafuta robo,’ enough to cook more than ten chapatis.

Since I mentioned fish as another hallowed dish, I’ll also add, that we always believed that Pilau was reserved for weddings. If you attended a wedding, the first thing your friends would ask “ulikula pilau?” If you said yes, then the next thing would be “na cake?” I once asked my Mom why we valued certain dishes and set them aside for certain events over others and she shrugged her shoulders and said “I don’t know, what do you think?”

I think it’s interesting that we grew up believing that certain dishes were meant for certain seasons and now…now, what do we do during Christmas? What do we eat?

Happy holidays wherever you are. May you be love, show love, give love, receive love and if not…a measure of grace be a sprinkled upon you.
Coconut Oil

December 15th, 2018

“Again?”

I take a breath. Four breaths. Milcah. Noah. Scott. Sterling. Each breath for each time I believed and fell short, so when he asks “again?” I am somewhere between a storm and a nuclear war. He shakes his head and storms out, but he knocks his knee on the stool beside the door, curses the world and proceeds on his anger trail. Between you and I, I think actors should be punched in the face or locked in a dark room for; one, making us think that a kiss could make your knees go weak and two, for making us believe that when people storm out on us there is this whoosh of air that comes with the door banging.

Photo credit: Daniel McCullough/ Unsplash

It’s the fourth time that he’s banged that door and that “whoosh!” has never announced its presence, let alone make its presence known.

So, I switch the channels from CNN to BBC to NatGeo because Trump’s drama and folly soothes me before I settle down to watching a documentary on animal life.

Sterling.

I chose that name.

I was going to apply coconut oil on her skin. Watch her yawn. Hold her hand in mine and tell her “you are mine.”

The calls keep coming but I do not answer any of them because my world has been set ablaze and nothing they say could put out this fire. So, the ones who know where I live will come, some to confirm that I live and others to have a story to tell people who know nothing about me that they “also have a friend who…”

So, I sit here on this floor and wonder how one word, five letters could wound me this much, how a word that seems to be of no value to any sentence could maim my soul…I need to breathe, but how?

I walk to the bathroom to wash my face, because I am my mother’s grief and my father’s secrets, a masterpiece.

I reach out for the soap and right there…on my left is a bottle of coconut oil. When I reach out for it, I see there are three other bottles, neatly lined up behind it, labeled ‘Scott,’ ‘Noah,’ ‘Milcah’ in his lazy scribble. He too lined up my favorite oil for them and suddenly my feet yearn for the freedom that only my aching heart could give and I remember asking him once “what will we tell our parents?” And he stood there and shook his head once and half smiled to say “I love coconut oil and sometimes when I am alone at work, I walk into the washroom, stuff tissue paper in my mouth and scream and wish that I never had that fragrance in my heart.”

This goes out to my friend, for all the Lillies in the world.
Redemption

December 14th, 2018

What takes a lifetime to build but a second to destroy? he asks. I look at him, we’ve been fidgety of late.

Of late means the past three days, four hours and thirty seven minutes.

He asks “what takes a lifetime to build but a second to destroy?”

I sip my coffee.

I am unwell and I have been for the past two days but he’s not one to notice the difficulty in breathing or the fact that I am wearing mittens in this weather. He smiles and says “you are no fun.”

“I know, thank you,” I say.

He sips his Mocha and looks around the cafe. I know what he’s afraid of asking or saying but just because I see the smoke, does not mean that I will put out his fire or tell him he’s burning up. I think at this point, I will pour some diesel on him and watch as he burns.

He knows this.

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Heavens bless my tender soul, he knows this and I sit and sip like the gentle soul that I am and say a polite prayer to God.

My mother always says when in doubt, pray- but when you are about to fight, pray harder.

So, I pray and I ask God nicely, if he could come between me and him because it’s just me and him and if God does not intervene, there’ll not be me and him but rather a mess of him and a whole lot of calm of me. I whisper a shaky ‘amen,’ and smile at him.

The fool smiles back and then says “So, look…”

Oh, heavens have mercy…
10 Reasons Why: Layers

December 8th, 2018

We took an Uber to Kereita forest and true to his word, Javans had two tickets. We opted for zip-lining, archery and walking around the forest because there was no way I could see myself biking around the place. Javans knows that I suck at mountain-biking.

I pretty much suck at working anything with wheels. My attempts to get him to explain what he meant by my words were met with either a stern look or a goofy grin. I checked my bag when I got home after he’d hinted at what I had written and my diary was there, each page, each feeling, everything I had written was there-so I was certain that he did not have it.

After three hours of activity we sat down to lunch, looking around I could see other people, a team-building probably, and also some who got word of the #funwithnature call and showed up. I could see that Javans had this competitive streak while we were out there-but even then, it was cold in Kimende and I had enough just walking around and my arms were starting to hurt after taking many shots and missing all of them in the archery tryout.

“This was kinda fun, how did you know about this place?” I asked.

“Facebook.”

“Oh, so you get to know about stuff like amazing outdoor adventures on Facebook, while some of us are busy watching YouTube cat videos.”

“Yes, to each their own, you know. So, tell me about these feelings that you have.”

“Eh?”

“You heard me Joyce and don’t start folding serviettes or saying you want to use the bathroom or fidgeting with the table cloth, just come clean, I promise I won’t judge.”

“Look, Jav, wait…Jav, listen…”

“I am looking and listening and you aren’t talking Joyce.”

“Si you wait! Sorry…okay, here’s the deal, who told you, how did they tell you and why did they tell you?”

“No one told me. I heard Maggie threaten you that she’d call me and tell me about this epic crush you have on me that day at the restaurant.”

“You had left!”

“No, I left but I forgot to tell you that I paid for the drinks so I was coming back to tell you when I heard the crazy one threaten you and trust me, you looked like you could fall or bury yourself and never come back for air. It also helps that you were writing something the other day at lunch, something about ten reasons why you can’t resist me, I read two of those, I want to know about the other eight.”

“Wait, what? How did you read all that stuff?”

“I underwent the 8-4-4 system of education here in Kenya and nothing trains you on surveillance more than sitting an exam unprepared like this system- so, stop going round in circles and let’s get this over with.”

“Are you with Pat?”

“Depends…”

“It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question Jav, hakuna depends hapo. Are you with Pat?”

“If I say ‘no’ you will be comfortable opening up to me. If I say ‘yes’ you will close up like you are starting to do, weighing what to reveal and what to keep to yourself and if I say ‘depends’ then at least that gives you the option to choose what to share and what to leave out. So, depends it is.”

“Jav, you are making this difficult.”

“Hey, it’s not everyday that I get to have a hot chic say she digs me and this case, it’s my best friend, so I’m enjoying myself right here.”

“Shut up! Vanity is thy name.”

“No, please let’s stop unleashing our grammar skills and say what’s on your mind, well, in this case heart. I’ll make it easy for you- I know you have a crush on me, you think I am Mr. Awesome and Mr. Handsome, now I am curious about those reasons you were writing.”

“Okay, would you stop staring at me like that, look I will just say it, well, who knows, you might laugh or hate me but it does not matter, like who cares, you already know and it’s not like the world is coming to an end, so if I tell you and you think…”

“Joyce…”

“There are so many reasons why I like you Jav, but what stands out can be summed up, and the ten reasons why I like you are; one-you always flip your chair backwards and it’s cool. Two- you pick up on the little things I do not say, sometimes it scares me that you can do that. Three- you have the thermometer smile, it starts slow and spreads up until your eyes light up. Four- when you are angry you ask questions, remember the time you asked me why there were men and women? I did not know where that came from, but I knew something had gone wrong between Pat and you. Five- you kissed me at a party, four years ago. I don’t know if you remember, but we were ushering in the new year and you said ‘I want something good in my life,’ and you kissed me and I ran away after that. Six- you go an extra mile for your friends, like how you drove to Kitengela to get Davy because he was drunk and you were afraid he’d crash if he drove. Or the time you took compassionate leave at work to take care of Jonah at the hospital-when his girlfriend could not even do that. Seven- you look at me, you really look at me. Eight- you are my best friend and saying all this scares me because you might stop being my friend. Nine-you’re not that bad, and I could look at you for a while. Ten- I like you because you are Jav, you aren’t afraid to try new things or act stupid in public, you are uniquely you.”

“Wow! So, can you repeat all that, because I think I missed a major part of what you said after reason number five.”

“What? The kiss?”

“Yes, I remember that kiss Joyce. I wasn’t drunk you know, and I put my heart out there and you just ran away. I tried talking about it and you said ‘let’s forget about it’ and I thought ‘that kiss must have sucked’ so yes-let’s talk about that, shall we?”

“No, it’s in the past, we are out in public, and you know, it’s weird.”

“Eh! You are special Joyce, do you know that?”

“When someone says ‘you are special’ it is code for ‘you are crazy’ or ‘you are losing the plot,’ so just say what it is Jav, look I am being honest, and you should too.”

“What would you do if I reached out now and kissed you?”

“Eh? What about Pat?”

“See…there’s your answer Joyce. You’re afraid and you keep thinking of someone who does not exist.”

“Wait, what?”

“Pat and I broke up last month. I called you to tell you but it was the week you were having an audit and you said you didn’t want to hear anything that would stress you- so hey, dude’s been getting over his broken heart, but that’s not just it. I have always wondered why you ran away after I kissed you and for the record, you kissed me back.”

“You broke up with Pat? Why?”

“See, I talk about moving on and you only hear that I broke up with Pat. Yes, I broke up with her, somewhere between seeing her with Davy and having to tell my friend to stay away from me, so yes, I did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For running away, I just thought it was a new year and you wanted to turn me into a resolution or something, like finally getting it with your friend or something.”

“Yes, well, maybe…but you did not give me a chance Joyce, so I’ll put an end to this conversation. Dinner, tonight at seven o’clock. You and I. I’ll kiss you so get that into your head, it might be on the way out of here, here, during dinner, or after dinner but here’s the deal, you are to kiss me back.”
Updates on this life

December 7th, 2018
Well, hello Friday! So, if you’ve been keeping up with my words then you are probably wondering where the next installment of 10 Reasons Why is, and you are right. You’ll read about Joyce and Javans’ adventure tomorrow-I for one, would love to know what will happen in Kereita forest.

However, let’s take a look at my week and the events leading up to this weekend.
- I finally had my tooth extracted and what a joy it is to finally sleep without taking painkillers every four hours!
- I am currently working on this years “Christmas” Edition of Nilichoandika magazine and while at it, I am learning that there is a lot more that I could do to produce quality content.
On reading: I cannot wait to read these titles this weekend:
On writing: I have not done much save for 10 Reasons Why and even as I write it, it’s not lost on me that I am yet to reach out to my mentor and work on a couple of drafts. Writing the final chapter of Sifuna has also been a chore because for some reason- a character that I find futile keeps making it to the end and it scares me not being able to write her off without killing the story’s flow.

This year has seen me listen to various albums and my go to “go get ’em” album is Kamikaze by Eminem and after watching the movie Venom six times, let’s just say that my ringtone had Grumpy asking questions with his eyebrows. I have also had Hillsong’s “There is More” on replay, often starting my day by listening to “Valentine” and “So Will I (100 Billion X)”- and then there’s this group, Why Don’t We, and being a hopeless romantic, I happened to listen to “Hard” and I have never looked anywhere else for a #thathurts kinda feeling, you feel me?
What albums have you listened to this month or this year that you keep turning to?

On my truth: I am learning that it is okay to let go of what hurts me, to look within and be gentle with myself when things do not go as I planned.

I am learning that my kind of love is uniquely my own and to label it, or try and fashion it into what other people expect it to be, is to slowly dim my spark.

I am learning that not everyone will find me successful because they’ll measure my success based on their standards- and my, what a score I’ll get, and how exhausted I’ll be if I keep trying to meet their standards.

Have a wonderful weekend and I hope you’ll drop by tomorrow to catch up with Joyce and Javans’ fun with nature challenge at Kereita forest!