nilichoandika

Chapter Four: Maureen

October 31st, 2017

Two things were true about Maureen: She loved fashion and talking. For as long as she could remember, her parents had often told her that her voice entered any room before her skinny body did. It was no surprise meeting Belinda in fact she could not miss the opportunity for she’d met her once at Barcadia. Her friend Michelle had left her in the company of this handsome devil she knew was married but enjoyed spending time with. His phone lit up and Belinda was smiling right at her, back then she’d asked “Is that your wife?”

“Yes, that’s Belinda.”

“She is beautiful.”

“Yes, she is a great woman.” Michelle had walked in right then with their drinks and she’d excused herself for the night and probably for the short life span of their friendship ever since. Later that evening, she walked to Okwan’s restaurant and was pleased that Belinda was ready to leave too.

“Do you need to place an order for tomorrow Mesh?”

“No, I actually wanted to see you again and apologize for coming on too strong. I talk too much and some people take it the wrong way.”

“It’s alright. I am just heading on home.”

“Sure, okay, where do you live?”

“It’s not far. I’ll take a boda-boda.”

“Do you have kids?”

“Yes, two actually and I am rushing home because their bus will be dropping them soon. Why do you ask? Do you know them?”

“Um…no, it’s just a bit early so I guessed that maybe you have kids that’s why Okwan let you leave early.”

“Okwan is a good person. See you around Mesh.”

“Yeah, sure thing, see you tomorrow then and say hi to your kids.”

If there was a moment when Maureen felt guilty, it was knowing that Belinda had two kids and a cheat for a husband. She pulled out her phone from her bag and scrolled down her contact list. She did not find Michelle’s number but she could comb through her Facebook profile for updates on her social life.

She was still going through her phone when someone tapped on her shoulder. She looked up and said “yes, what is it?”

“I am sorry for disturbing you, but are you good friends with the lady you were with?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I am. Well, she looks like someone I know and I was driving so I couldn’t shout out her name, but if so, I’d really love to see her.”

“You just saw a beautiful lady and came up with a story. Look, if you want to see her, visit Okwan’s restaurant tomorrow. She works there. If she is the one you say then you can talk to her then but I am not giving you her number.”

“It’s alright. I appreciate it but how about your number then?”

“Really? Do I look like ugali sauce?”

The man smiled and walked back to his car leaving Maureen with thoughts she knew could stew some soup.
Chapter Three: Okwan

October 30th, 2017

It was a relief seeing Belinda the next morning and so Okwan gave her a set of tasks to see to at the restaurant as she proceeded to pay for the delivered groceries.

“Belinda, we have some deliveries to make at Re-Insurance Plaza and I hope you can do just that because Joshua is not around.”

“Sure, I’ll deliver the meals.”

“Make sure everyone pays you for their meal, they always have the tendency of saying you can collect the money tomorrow. I am in no mood for credit today and tell them the pilau is already mixed with beef. O and there’s this mama, some short plump lady who insists on wearing red lipstick even though the color makes her look like a dead hen.”

“You do not like this mama I presume.”

“I am telling you to watch out for her. She always finds fault in the beef stew every time it’s delivered to her. Do not let her talk to you through her nose.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Belinda took the wrapped lunches and put them in one big shopping bag and left the restaurant for Re-Insurance plaza. It was a relief to have stepped out of the kitchen into the fresh air. The plaza was a five-minute walk from the restaurant and she was greeted by the guard upon entry who proceeded to direct her towards the reception.

The lady at the front desk smiled when she approached, “you must be the new person Okwan got. I heard you were beautiful but they must have missed something because you don’t look like any mama kibanda.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“I don’t know. You are quite pretty you know, anyways I am Maureen, but you can call me Mesh.”

“Why Mesh and not Moh.”

“It’s my name and I get to pick the nickname, what do they call you?”

“Belinda but do not call me Besh.”

“I see, anyways, you can place my order right here while I go and tell the others that their lunch is here. Before I forget, here’s your money.”

“Thank you, Mesh.”

“Don’t thank me, let me sit down and eat then you can thank me.”

Belinda sat on the brown couch at the reception and watched Mesh walk into the other offices announcing at the top of her voice that lunch was served.

Five minutes later she’d handed over everyone’s meal and collected her money. As she was about to leave, Mesh rushed beside her with a phone in hand. “Hi, can I have your number?”

“You have Okwan’s number isn’t she the one you’d rather call to place your orders?”

“Yes, but she is not easy to talk to. I promise I won’t disturb you or stalk you; it’s all about keeping the business of lunch deliveries going. I would really love to have your number.”

Belinda looked at the lady once more. She couldn’t be a day over two decades but there was something about her that reminded her of life. She took the phone, keyed in her number and handed it back to Mesh. “See you tomorrow Belinda, and I love your jeans, they really make your hips look great!”

Belinda walked back to the restaurant and handed over the money to Okwan. She walked into the kitchen to check on the beef stew.
Chapter Two: Belinda

October 29th, 2017

She arrived home at seven o’clock. Jeffery was seated on the sofa with his legs resting on the coffee table. He nodded when she got inside the house.

“What are we having for supper?” he asked.

Belinda walked over to the children’s bedroom to say hello to Iman and Hakeem. They rushed to hug her when she sat on the floor each spouting words about their day. Iman had her father’s eyes and someone else’s looks. Hakeem on the hand was the adorable male version of her. He was the youngest and the sweetest. Jeffery had been talking about having another baby. He called it the curtain call. They could close the chapter on baby-making and raise the children. She listened when he talked and snuggled closer for a cuddle, but never forgot her pills. He was ready because he had earned a promotion and had signed a five-year contract. The words flowed into her ears, pitched a tent in her mind and then were discarded as soon as she woke up. It meant nine months of piling on weight, cracked nipples, wearing a diaper for six weeks postpartum, and of course the snide comments from him ‘you are fat,’ or sometimes ‘we need to sign you up for gym.’ When the baby cried, those first three months of hell, meant she would sleep in the baby’s room. Jeffery asking every morning, ‘Is there any way we can get the baby to stop wailing at midnight?’ He would have his breakfast, leave at seven and return at nine in the night. She never confronted him about Millie, the slim young thing he spent diaper money on. She never confronted him about his working hours for somewhere along the way, she’d learned that there were better things like watching him choke on a fish bone.

She led the way into the kitchen and turned on the gas. Hakeem and Iman climbed on the counter top like they always did whenever she cooked. “What are we eating tonight?” Iman asked.

“I am making rice and beans.”

“You know they are eating chapati in Gracie’s house and it was all she talked about on the bus.”

“I can make chapati on another day when Gracie’s mom is not making it so you can also tell her all about it.”

“Yes, she thinks that they are the only ones who eat chapati. I will show her.”

The children talked about their day each one taking turns to prove they had the best experience. Jeff turned the volume up and she did not see the need of shouting to get his attention. Iman helped her set the table and they sat down to dinner. She listened to their talk even as she did the dishes and tucked them into bed.

She took a quick shower and changed into her night dress then slipped into the bed. Jeff turned to her as she settled between the covers and said: “Mother is coming to visit us next weekend.”

Belinda looked into his eyes. He smiled and then kissed her hand, “goodnight,” before turning to face the other side pulling the duvet along with him. She stared at his back long after and slowly slid down the bed and closed her eyes to embrace sleep.

Ushanga: Chapter one was posted here
Reading The Name of the Wind

October 26th, 2017

Have you ever read a 722 page novel in one sitting? Allow me to gush over a book I just finished reading called The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. Ever heard of him or read his books? This was my first of many and here’s why:

My name is Kvothe.
I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings. I burned down the town of Trebon. I have spent the night with Felurian and left with both my sanity and my life. I was expelled from the University at a younger age than most people are allowed in. I tread paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during the day. I have talked to gods, loved women, and written songs that make minstrels weep.
You may have heard of me.

Most of the times when we hear accounts of heroic acts, it’s always passed down from witnesses or people who overheard the stories and so forth. A man happens upon an inn. He arrives at night and almost loses his life in an attempt to get shelter. It turns out that he is a scribe or what people would call a Chronicler. He is the guy who brings legends to life by telling their stories. He takes one look at the innkeeper and knows it’s Kvothe or Quothe, the red-sandy hair, and the eyes give him away and he wants to tell Kvothe’s story. So, Kvothe reminisces his early life, his adventures and all the Chronicler does is note everything down. This is fantasy like I never expected and before I go, I’ll leave you with a few snippets of it.

It is a word. Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts.

Kvothe recalls his time at the University and there’s this statement he made about the administration that had me thinking what would happen if that were to be incorporated in Kenya?

Your next term’s tuition was based on your performance.

After his parents and their troupe were slain, he wandered the streets for years and when the Chronicler asks him how he dealt with the loss, he spoke of Four doors of the mind; sleep, forgetting, madness and death.

One thing did ring true of Kvothe, he was restless and his impatience and smart mouth got him into more trouble than he ever asked for. I know temper and fury. I’ve been caller a Simmer more often than I could drink coffee and if there’s a statement that lit up the Simmer in me, then it is:

Besides, anger can keep you warm at night, and wounded pride can spur a man to wondrous things.

I’m moving on to another book today. What are you reading this week and are there any epic fantasies you’d recommend?
Worry

October 23rd, 2017

You came to me.

I summoned you into my mind and you built a fortress when all I needed was a five minute consultation. It’s been days. You forged an alliance with my intuition, signed a treaty with my fears and sealed the bond with my hopes.

Intuition kept telling me that it’s all a trial. It is a test to see if my love is true, to see if I would be the one to pursue and seek first. It kept telling me to listen but I said “what if you are wrong?”

She said “What if I never shut up?”

Fear told me I might blow things out of proportion, make a mountain of a molehill, destroy a good thing.

Hope stayed calm saying “this too shall pass, besides you never know unless you address it.”

So, I picked up a book and added another layer of ice to my heart. When you’ve been single for a long time you are comfortable with the silence within. You are you. You walk around the house in pajamas, read books, drink coffee, listen to Lecrae, dance in your underwear.

So, dearest worry, before you get too comfortable in your fortress, remember that you were summoned. Whatsoever’s summoned can always be banished, I would bear that in mind, in fact, I would think about it and act on it.

Hope says “stay single, you’re better than this.”

I look at the time. It’s 3 am and I for one have no objection.
Reading & Writing Updates

October 20th, 2017
How’s your week been? What did you do this week? Friday’s here and I can’t wait for tomorrow because well, I get to sleep way past six am.

My week’s been full of events and on Wednesday was a tough sail for me because I received a long email from a project I was looking forward to and the take on it was it’s got to be on hold till the political situation gets better. Well, that hurt, but I am hopeful that Kenya will get better because we’ve got to uphold our constitution. It also broke my heart to go on Facebook and read about the killings in Kisumu because no one deserves to be hit, insulted, belittled or killed for expressing their grievances. No one also deserves to be robbed of their income because of someone expressing their grievance.

On reading:
- I finished reading an interesting thriller on Tuesday. It follows Masha, a law intern at a police station in Moscow who looks into a serial killer’s patterns and unravels a mystery far beyond the country’s expectation and understanding. (Get a copy on Amazon)
- I also got stuck on Wuthering Heights. I’ll probably take some time off, listen to Tamar Braxton’s album Bluebird of Happiness and then get back to it when I can take the anger and bitterness portrayed.
- I am currently halfway through Trail of Broken Wings by Sejal Badani.
Google Images
- I am still on the lookout for a great book to read. So, any suggestions are most welcome!
On writing:
- I am still working on Ushanga and it’s set for release at the end of this month, so that’s awesome.
- An idea for my next book popped to mind while I was working on Ushanga and that pissed me off. Don’t you hate it when you are finally writing a few words and a better idea comes and perches on your shoulders? So, I’ll draft an outline and see how it goes before I make anything of it.
- 11 days to NanoWrimo and I am not ready, but I’m looking forward to participating alright.
I guess that’s it for me so far. What are you reading this week?

To Kenyans, Happy Mashujaa Day 🙂

Have a lovely weekend.
Alone

October 19th, 2017

“You don’t know what it’s like…to be alone, to be lonely, sometimes it’s both.”

Stocksnap.io

She shoves her hand in her pocket. I look away. I know she’s been biting her nails again and I see her lips too. She searches for me from across the room and when my eyes meet her’s; she smiles. We know I know and so, she takes out her hand from her pocket.

“It’s not that bad.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Why do you agree with everything I say?”

“Do I?”

“There you go again, asking a question instead of answering one. You are going to tell me that it’s about me and not you, but I know you. See, I’ve known you since form one and you are still as tiny as you were. Remember those days?”

“Yes and you were bolder then.”

“Well, you have no idea. Sometimes I want to claw his eyes out. He doesn’t know it and if he does, he is doing a good job at pretending that he doesn’t. I am tired, all these thoughts, if I leave then people would wonder why? If I stay they’ll say were are such a lovely couple, but there is nothing lovely about being lonely when you’re with the one you love.”

I pour myself another cup of coffee. She curls up in the sofa and smiles. Her eyes die with every stretch of her lips but I don’t tell her this. I don’t tell her that she needs to eat to bring color to her cheeks. I don’t tell her…

I am a coward because I know what it’s like to magnify one offense such that you are in season three of deception yet the one you love has no clue of their offense.

Unvoiced expectations= Unmet expectations= Frustration

“You are the only person I know who takes a whole flask of coffee and can still sleep for seven hours. How do you do that?”

“I’m a cat, sleep is very important.”

“No, you are a writer and a good one. Well, the only friend I know who writes. I hate this.”

“What exactly do you hate?”

“Being lonely and alone in my loneliness.”

I look at her and smile because she has said the very thing she knows is weighing her down. She smiles and before I nod in agreement, she cries…and I for one, let her.
The thing about ringtones

October 17th, 2017

Is this…if your ringtone is John Mayer’s Heartbreak Warfare, I’m going to strike up a conversation with you. I am not declaring my weirdness, just the profound understanding of what that song means to me.

I was meeting with a group out of town today. I had just strapped myself in when one of the guys in the back shouts to someone outside, “Weh! Ali, simu yako…”I could have cared less but then it was Heartbreak warfare and all I could think of was laying my weapons down and turning to get a good look at this Ali dude. Ali comes back, looks at the caller ID and then says “wacha tu ilie,” and at this point I’m thinking it’s a conversation he is not ready for.

I dig that. I get that.

Two magic words: Airplane Mode

When I’m not down for anything be it a text, call, notification or beep, I set my phone on airplane mode and read a book or two. Sometimes, at night, if I am unable to write, I would look up random policies on children and read them comparing what each government has to say about child protection. (I find Singapore’s policy quite refreshing; but Liberia does take the cake when it comes girl’s education and gender bias and merging it with their basic education policy, that’s kickass if you ask me. I’m yet to read Japan’s but I feel like South Korea could be worth a read some night.)

Ali comes back to the van. The driver steps in and introduces me to the team. At this point, I know two things: they are working on health and sexual reproduction in a community and they need me to help them plan out how to reach out to the women and young girls. I am introduced to; Anne (Sociology major, cute glasses), David (Masters in Community Development, Unapproachable facade), Ali (Communications, hence the John Mayer vibe and I tell him that I was once a Communications Assistant at my previous job), Stella (Project Manager, the one who reached out to me) and then Humphrey (the driver whom I like, but know he’s the senior field manager and he’s just too modest to admit that he’s the boss). Stella is keen on clarifying that this is me just giving me a guideline and that I wouldn’t be employed by the organization they work for. She hands me some liability documents and I take them and sign them. Ali asks “won’t you want to read those?”

“No, I know my way around them. The only document I ever read is anything that deals with photo and video consent and it’s not here. So, this means that any photos you take of me while we are working would not be shared without my consent. Is that so?”

“Eh, I have the consent forms but I thought I’d give them to you once we are in the field.”

“Why did you pick heartbreak warfare as your ringtone?”

“Ati what?”

“Your ringtone, that’s John Mayer’s song Heartbreak warfare off his Battle Studies album. Why did you pick it?”

“I like it. Do people have reasons behind the ringtones they assign?”

“Yes, you just said you like it. I love that song. It’s cool that you have it. Can I take a look at the consent forms you had in mind for me?”

“Sure, let me just get them for you.”

At this point, Humphrey looks at me and smiles, “You are not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“Someone taller, older or let’s just say a bit different and serious like most consultants are, but you are…easy to talk to.”

“Why do you say so?”

“Ali does not talk to anyone while we are driving. He would have his earphones on and listen to music the whole way, but you come along and suddenly he’s talking. I don’t know what to make of that?”

I nodded and we talked about everything including why it was important to buy bananas at Kisian and not Ndori. They dropped me off at home an hour ago. I wished them well but Ali jumped out of the car and reach out to me just as I was opening the gate. He dipped his hands in his pockets and leaned closer and said “I really like you. I mean, I like how you talk, but don’t get any ideas, it’s just that few people can…you know, speak, yaani hawawezi kuongea vile unaongea and that’s dope. Na, juu ya hiyo ringtone, well, sometimes you like someone and she’s not yours and it’s like war every time. So, see you next time, I’d love to hear your suggestions on a success story I’m working on. We could do something together, I mean…nitanyamaza sasa, bye.”

“Sure, bye Ali.”

I knew he was cool from his ringtone because you’ve gotta have something in you to set heartbreak warfare as a ringtone.
Slow Down

October 15th, 2017

The world is running. I cannot catch up. I cannot hold my breath, sprint, run and watch it as it spirals into a dimension that is.

Slow down.

The world is running, but will it run out of breath?

I wonder, what world am I talking about? What do I mean by running, because as it stands, I am the one whose feet are in motion. They move faster than I can get my mind to sit still. They run away from…

They run and for a long time, I have endured and lived for the thrill of it. Running, or getting out of a situation because it was the easiest thing to do. Emotions are complicated, feelings can be summoned and then hurt and then what?

Slow down

Listen, laugh, love, live.

Live.

Slow down.

So, here I am, taking a break; staying when all I want to do is call things off and walk away. I am giving myself a chance. I am reminding myself that I too can take a break because there is no fun in running into a wall.
Rapid Fire Book Tag

October 13th, 2017

Hello, it’s Friday the Thirteenth and it is a wet morning here in Kisumu. I’m on my third cup of instant black coffee and I fear I’ve run out of Nescafe. I came across this book tag on Abigail’s Books blog and it was created by Kate at Girl Reading. It’s the second book tag that fascinates me and so I thought, eh, why not? Let’s do this:

E-book or physical book?

Physical books any time or day, but I do prefer e-books when I am traveling.

Paperback or hardback?

Paperback🙂.

Online or in-store book shopping?

I ❤ online book shopping because of the many recommendations that pop up which always introduces me to a new writer. I am also known to wander off in book stores.

Trilogies or series?

Can we stick to two books? I’ve written a series so here’s the pot calling the kettle black!

Heroes or villains?

Villains (psst! Don’t tell Peaches, he reckons I’m a good girl).

A book I want everyone to read.

Recommend an underrated book

In the Kitchen by Monica Ali🙂

The last book I finished.

The Platinum Dragon by Vance Pumphrey

The Last book I bought.

The Kitchen God’s Wife by Amy Tan

Weirdest thing I’ve used as a bookmark

Lollipop wrapper.

Used books- yes or no?

Yes, well, as long as all the pages are there.

Top three favorite genres

Literary fiction

Women’s fiction

Romance

Borrow or buy?

Buy.

Characters or plot?

Characters.

Long or short books?

Both? 🙂

Long or short chapters?

Surprise me!

The first three books I can think of

Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe

Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone by J.K.Rowling

Books that made you laugh or cry?

Rain Falls on Everyone by Clar Ni Chonghaile

Land Without Thunder by Grace Ogot

Arrows of Rain by Okey Ndibe

The Abyssinian Chronicles by Moses Issegawa

Our world or fictional worlds?

Fictional!

Audiobooks- yes or no?

No, thanks.

Ever judge a book by it’s cover?

Yes…like seriously who hasn’t?

Book to movie or book to TV adaptations?

No, what’s in print should stay there…but Marvel has me thinking differently.

A movie or TV show I preferred to its book

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Let’s just say that I never finished reading the book 😦

Series or standalones?

Standalones.