“So, this girl is something!”
“You’ve said that since I got back from work dude, what is it with her? I know you Gabriel, everything seems like a dream to you until you are called to commit then you run. So, first things first- what’s her name and favorite drink?”
“Mercy and she loves Smirnoff Black Ice.”
“All chicks in Nai love that stuff. I thought you were looking for a Tequila kind of chick to keep your heart racing.”
“Shut up Michael. Mercy is like breathing you know- talking of which, I need to take her to a good hotel this weekend- so any cool places you know?”
“Sarova, Hilton, Laico Regency.”
“Eish! Are you trying to kill me? You know my salo cannot buy a plate in those places. Give me something I can work with.”
“I’ll let you know, so does she know you smoke and all?”
“Well, that is another story for another day. It’s not like we are getting married.”
“So, does she know you want to have fun?”
“Bless you Brother Michael, when was the last time you actually dated a girl?”
“Last week.”
“And how long did that relationship last?”
“Ten hours.”
“Thank you!”
Tag: relationships
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The sky is blue and so is the feeling she has. To get her to open her eyes, I have to take her back to the beginning.
It’s like walking on a rainbow at night. I am afraid of the dark but hope with some little light I might make my way through.
I met Mercy on the same day that she met Gabriel. He was my best friend. We lived in the same one bedroom apartment and talked of getting laid and drunk all the time. She was at the same party with us and had a green purse. I came to know it as a clutch. I had known all along that women carried bags. I didn’t know they had names and served different purposes until she told me.
Mercy was like a bee sting.
She had an appealing bosom like I have told you- and a smile that unlike all in the room felt like a glow. She held her drink like it was a treat, and walked around the room saying hello to people like she owned the party.
I must have seen her first because Gabriel slapped me in the back of the head to get my attention. It was then that he saw her. It’s true that birds of a feather flock together, but not all fly at the same pace.
Gabriel was a bull; the worst kind of bull. He pushed me aside and made for her, and in that moment I knew he’d have her. They talked for sometime. He made her laugh, and when I couldn’t stand to watch, I left the party for home. My father had always taught me that nothing beats surrender as much as retreat. I slept my humiliation away and waited to hear the endless story of how he had her. Gabriel came home the next morning at 6am when I was leaving for work. Though he reeked of cigarette smoke, he was sober. I handed him the keys and smiled.
I knew that would be the beginning of my torture but never thought of saying anything else in case my best friend saw the jealousy in me.
-
It is said that love comes in its purest form to the most impure, not to change them but to have them see what good it would do them if they had a change of heart.
Sometimes when Mercy would stop and look upon April 16th, her heart would remind her of the impurity bestowed upon her by her one true love. It s neither here nor there, but when she looks outside her window she is tempted to be one with the earth. She is high above the ground with nothing and no one to hold onto.
She has herself, but it’s been two years and she does not see it. She used to have an appealing bosom, soft thick lips of even proportion and a smile that could serve lust on a platter. In her mind it’s still one day, April 16th, but in mine it’s like waking up in a black hole and descending in it.
My name is Michael.
I am the one who sees the light in her. I am the one who has to lock all the windows in case she jumps while I’m away at work. I call her thrice before noon, sometimes she answers, but this has only happened once in the two years.
I know that one day I’ll hear her say ‘hello’ and not the operator telling me ‘the mobile subscriber cannot be reached.’
I am the one who would love to know the color of her heart. It’s pathetic I know, but she’s hanging by a thread and so am I.
-
For as long as she could remember the scent of him and that smile, all Vanessa had been doing was waiting.
She was the one who saw him that day in the school field. He was in a blue shirt and khaki trousers. The other boys were drawn to him as much as the girls were. He said something to make them laugh and that’s when his eyes met her cocoa eyes. They were dark and had a glint of mischief, but it was his height and ease that drew her to him. She had a few boyfriends in her stay in high school. There was the one she met in a bus on her way home who had written one letter but used a revised stamp. She had to pay fifty shillings to read his illegible writing and wrong musical dedications. Any fool knew that “Queen of my Heart” was a song by Westlife and not Backstreet Boys!
There was the great dancer in form three who though short had managed to hit on her best friend and get away with it. His idea of getting back at her had been to leave an empty packet of milk in her locker. She found it quite refreshing. Their break up and his upgrade became the talk of the two streams for that weekend. She told no one the that she never loved him, but was in awe of his handwriting and grammar. Even then she knew that she could not love a guy in high school. She could not lend her heart to a boy who had an influx of love letters from other girls. The thought of such deception made her cautious, but relatively stupid.She fell hard for him.
He was talking to his friends that day but once he caught her staring, he couldn’t look away. She stood there until he walked towards her.
She could look into his eyes, but the scent of him was all she needed.
He was charming, but she knew that charm was deceitful and her heart stopped.
They were called to the hall where the results were announced. She hated Physics exams. She loved the practical exams but the theory part always had her in knots.
When their teacher announced the results she looked down aware that her performance would prove to him how stupid she was. In fact, she hadn’t studied for it. The skirt she was wearing was a size smaller, and the elastic on those new socks were stressing her, so she couldn’t focus in the exam room.
How would he know that she had been attending an English Symposium the previous evening and had been the best? Or that she wanted to know his name and hear him say that he liked her?The result came in and he stood when his name was called and the sound of palms meeting filled the room. She could not put her palms together, but he saw her. His eyes stayed with her until the end.
The smart ones stayed in the podium to receive their gifts as the room filled with music. It was a Symposium and some entertainment was in order. She slipped out and returned to the hall when she heard E-Sir’s song, “Mos Mos” and found herself doing the Helicopter dance just like she had seen in the music videos and shows.
After a while she stepped out through the back door hoping to sneak back to her dorm and change. Those socks were really killing the muscles on her legs.
“You’re a very good dancer, Vanessa.”
He was right beside the door. His hands were in his pockets and his right leg was raised as he leaned on the wall.
“Hi.”
“Max,you can call me Max. I was looking for you.”
“Well, you found me. ”
” I did. You’ll hear from me.” She wanted to ask when she would hear from him but she didn’t want to seem desperate. She knew his name and he knew hers. It was enough to disregard the miserable grade she got in Physics.
The next weekend brought with it time to watch a Nigerian movie and read his letter under her blanket with the aide of a flashlight . He did not just like her, he really liked her. He was not afraid to admit it, but he found her confidence a little intimidating.
His handwriting was impeccable and he signed off better than she had hoped. She read his letter over the weekend, before she could pick a pen to answer his letter. But she knew even then that her heart would always beat to his.That was ten years ago. Vanessa was still waiting. She heard from Max once in a while but his words never reached her heart or sparked the fire that he had kindled in her.
She had dated some guys, got dumped by three and set four in the friend zone. He had evolved into an accountant. She had evolved into a woman. When they met that day at the cafe, he had invited her to his apartment and treated her to lunch. He had the same glint in his eyes. She had the same stare.
He kissed her forehead that night, but nothing beyond that. She walked home tired and spent. He had drained her of the fire she kept burning for him.She did everything to steer clear of him. No one she knew had married their high school sweetheart, but even then she hoped she would be the first. The fire in her heart was slowly picking up. He worked in the same building as her, and they had lunch when his moods favored him. Her colleagues told her they looked great together every day. She smiled at the beginning but it became more of a burden like an unwanted constipation.
She stayed late in the office that evening. The proposals for the new Campaign had to be revised before the Shareholders meeting the next morning. She heard the knock and his scent.
“Hey, would you mind if I join you?”
“No, please do.”
“Thanks.”
“I brought you some cupcakes from the cafe. I know you always have house coffee and two chocolate cupcakes every Wednesday.”
“Thank you Max, I didn’t know that I had a stalker in you.”
“I think it’s a good thing, at least a stalker who brings you cupcakes, look, would you like to go out with me, as in be my girlfriend Vanessa?”
“Max…”
“I know it’s been a while but I have been watching you Vanessa. Like how you frown when you want to say something but can’t. You also love blue scarves, and that everything has to be in order for you, but more so I have seen the way you look at me.”
“Max,can we do this later, um…”
“I have waited for fifteen years to talk to the girl I met at St. Anne’s during a Physics symposium who made me lose my cool. The girl who knew she came first and who wrote me the only letters I have ever had the pleasure of reading. I could sit here and go on, or tell you how much I have dreamed of this, but it is not in my style to live like am one of those Mexicans you swoon over in TV. So, what will it be Vanessa, be honest with me.”
“Max…”
“Are you seeing someone?”
“No, all this time I thought that it would never happen. You made me wait Max. I waited and dreamed and gave up and gained hope, it was like… Would you wait for me to finish typing this document?”
“It’s been fifteen years Vanessa, a few more hours wouldn’t hurt, but am not leaving this office without you.”
“You’ll hear from me.”Other awesome posts in the East Africa Friday Feature
The Girl with the Golden Smile 2
Flashes of The Birthday Killer -
It started out as a whispering. A loud and prolonged hush between the clouds that were drawing nearer the earth at eight o’clock in the night.
She held onto her sweater as she looked at the dark clouds hover above her while whispering.
They hovered and got darker and then just as they were about to merge she saw the flash of lightning bring back some light to the dark night. She looked at her watch.
The bus came and people filled it. It drove off while she was still seated on that bench. She fastened the scarf around her neck but the cold wind still stung her earlobes. She pulled out her phone and saw that she still had 27 percent battery power left.
Jeremy had called her five times. He might have been worried about her, but she needed to do this. The woman at the bridal shop had told her that matters of the heart could mess people up. If she loved Jeremy she had to face Mark. When she told the lady about Mark, the woman scrunched up her nose, scoffed and said, “A man with a four letter name is a player, haven’t you ever noticed how many women cry over Johns, Pauls, Max, and Marks?”
She laughed at this as she stopped to twirl so she could have a feel of her gown. She loved the A-line. The texture was smooth and it did not have too much embroidery. Her wedding was going to be simple, full of love and true. The woman had insisted, “you cannot move on unless you face your past and bury it.”
She stopped when she heard her name. It was a whisper as loud and real as that of the clouds she had been watching.
It was a voice she could never get out of her head just like she would never forget how he treated her. It was a mistake to him. It started with, “let me explain,” and ended with “I know I cheated but I love you.”
What amused her was how often she heard the words and how easily she believed them.
She looked at him settle beside her and braced herself for what he had to say.
” You came…”
She looked at him and then pulled out her phone. Her battery power was down to 24 percent. He had started with an observation not a question. She dug her hands in her brown bag and sighed.
“How are you Grace?”
“I am fine.”
“I can see. So, I hear you are getting married next weekend, is it to that Dentist?”
“Yes.”
“I hate Dentists. You know it really hurts when they extract a tooth.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t be like that Grace, I just wanted to see you and catch up on times and stuff, so don’t just sit there and act like I am a stranger, please don’t.”
“Okay.”
“Grace,do you love this dude? I mean, are you sure about marrying him?”
“Yes, I am.”
“He does not deserve you babe, he really does not.”She looked at Mark and just when she was going to say something she felt the first splatter land on her forehead. She looked up and those clouds had now formed one large mass of the darkest shade of black and were sending those rain drops down on her.
The splatter increased as the raindrops hit the pavement with vengeance. Mark was shouting something at her about seeking shelter but all she could see were the lights and heard the brakes before she saw the bus come to a stop right before her.
She stood up and rushed into the bus while holding her breath hoping that Mark would not follow her.
The woman at the bridal shop had been wrong. Everything about Mark unsettled her because every time he opened his mouth, she held her breath knowing that her heart was listening to him.
He still had that scent: some musk with a twinge of lime. His hair was still cropped short and he dressed better than Jeremy. It had been two years and he could still rile her up, get her jumping and running after his empty promises. Jeremy always called her “honey,” while Mark always knew that she loved being called “babe.”
It was pouring as she ground her teeth hoping the bus filled up and left the station. It was foolish of her to think that she could still love Mark. He has asked for her hand in marriage. In fact he had been the first man to ask for her hand in marriage. He had also been the only man to make a promise and break it even before he finished saying it.
She wiped the window to look at the people and there; right behind the bench where they were seated was the red saloon car she could spot even in her dreams.
There was a man standing beside the car with an umbrella and he was looking straight at her.
She looked at the tall profile of the man and in that moment, she stood up holding her bag close to her chest and ran out of the bus. She bumped into the tout on the way out, as she ran in the cold heavy rain towards the one her heart yearned for.
Jeremy opened his arms and she walked right into them knowing he had so many questions. They stood there in the rain with the splash of rain, hooting of the bus, ghust of wind holding each other and answering their questions by touch.
She did not care about that, except for the fact that he had drove through the rain to come and get her.Other blogs in the East Africa Friday Feature :
Love in Nairobi
Flashes of Vice -
She said, “He is not good enough for you,” as she applied that red lipstick that she got from me. Signature or Charm Max? I cannot remember. She looked better with red lips.
She pulled out a soft tissue from her black purse and pressed her lips slightly on it, then applied gloss.
I did not know if it was a rating or a competition. Is he supposed to be good enough or right? Is he supposed to be handsome or perfect?
Is he supposed to be rated by her or by me and my family?
I thought about her and wondered how easy it was for her to push him out of my mind. We walked back to the restaurant together and there he was, waiting. She looked at him and smiled. He pulled out my chair and let me sit before continuing with a conversation, as though she was the ghost hovering above our heads.
He said, “I hope she has told you great stuff about me.”
She said, “You wish!” and then she got up, picked her purse and walked away.
He went after her.
-
You my dear are like second hand smoke.
You choke me yet I do not smoke you.And after visiting Aphrodite, you come to me smiling and full of surprises. I get roses, coffee dates, books, stationery and you even surprise me by asking me to dance with you, but when you pull me close and ask me to lay my head on your chest, I inhale her.
I inhale your guilt and anxiety through your beating heart.
And like the jealous and wounded woman that I am, I ask you, “how was your weekend?”You step back and look into my eyes and say, “it was boring, I missed you so much.”
But, I smile and step out of your embrace to breathe in some air that would dispel the stench that’s your guilt.
You are God’s most wonderful piece of work.
A picture with you is like being in a glossy magazine with you as the model and me as a prop.You want to stay in.
I have to leave for work, but what I really want to do is go home and write. Love, do you know that I write? Yes, you buy me stationery and know the best books to get me, but do you really know that I write? And it’s just not, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz but complete sentences that form a story?So, I leave.
But I know thanks to your IG that you must have hired a car for a day, went to a park, had a blast and took endless selfies with your cookie jar. They are very beautiful women. The one in a green bra does know how to pout. I also liked the one in red braids, her cheeks look kissable, but I bet you knew that already.And when I get home, my friend asks me, “so, when will you ever date?”
I smile and say “never,” because I have just had a two month class on the fine art of lying and being in numerous relationships from you.
She looks at me and shakes her head in disbelief.
And, the best part of all this is that you had asked me to give you a chance, to weigh things out and decide if I want you.I want you.
It’s no lie that you are a handsome devil, but I want you out of my life.
And what amazes me is that you still had hope, that I would stay, yet, you never did anything to make me stay.You bought me things I love, while you slept around with other women.
For my attention you disrespected me.
You appreciated my cooking and cherished how I got along with your family, while you did everything to threaten their trust by not being honest with them about me.
You want to have fun while I do the growing up for you.We cannot switch roles.
Go have fun.
Go make merry.Thank you for a wonderful insight on lying and lack of focus, and until then, steer clear of me.
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I’ll be your demon, guarding your doors so that no evil shall pass. I will stop all the girls from staring, with their teeth every time you walk into a room- and grip your hand so they know you seek no evil. But, I will be the angel hoping and praying that you cease to create room for evil by telling the truth.
(Photo Credits: Larisa Koshkina )
Such that when your phone lights up, you do not have to leave the room or talk in the bathroom or pretend that your boss needs you. Your boss does not send you messages via Whatsapp.
I will sit and smile and hope that when I ask, “are we good?” you will say, “I don’t know,” and it will be the truth. I cannot deny lust when it is before me. She smiles and you start day dreaming. She smells like roses and kisses you like Aphrodite. She is your night while I am your day, and you know…a man needs peace of mind. Sometimes, you have things that are so great in your life and you cannot figure out which one to stick with. When there are so many women to choose from, why not see what will become of it all, why not have fun?
So, I am the “wifey,” the one who is respectful and is loved by your parents and siblings. I am the one who knows how to cook your favorite serving of fried beef and ugali with sauteed sukuma wiki, and will add your can of Tusker just to top it off!
I am the one who knows what gift to get your friends and family and will write something sweet, you know just cause you need them to know you care.
I am the one who will ask you questions that your conscience has been drumming up on you so much so that it has gone mute, like, “what are your career plans?” and “are you looking to invest in that?” and “how was your day?”
I am the one who knows that there is more to radio than listening to Classic and Kiss 100, and will bore you to death by listening to BBC.
But, she is oxygen itself!
She knows what to say and when to say it! She knows when to order drinks and help pull out your wallet to pay the bill, and the taxi back to her place. She knows how handsome and loving you are, because she does not need to tell you this when you are sober, I mean, why be so serious? You only live once, right? And you nod, “yeah,” and sink in her…and at the back of your mind you say, “only for tonight.”
What you do not know is that to women, the phrase, “the world is a small village,” is not news! We knew it long before we knew that we are women.
One word, whispered to two ears, finds itself an audience of ten thousand, and whatever is gospel truth to four ears is the verdict!
You…
(part two comes this Friday.)
nilichoandika 