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Good riddance Daisy

Sam sat in front of his laptop that morning with a throbbing headache. He played with the keypad not quite sure what to do. He looked around at his messy room; unmade bed with torn socks tossed on them, a study table with stacks of CDs on them.

Who the hell is Ghetto Superstar and Papa Bear? Why do I even have those CDs? Sam thought to himself. Book upon book, upon book; the bright red and bold words, “Giving” stopped his eyes from browsing other titles on the table. It was Bill Clinton’s book on changing the world. Sam sneered and laughed hysterically. “Giving indeed!”He muttered under his breath. His thoughts were interrupted by a song. Where was it coming from? It was Coolio, Gangstas paradise.

Sam stared at his screen then suddenly recalled that that was his phone, he quickly flipped his sheets and duvet, looking for his phone; it was a phone call. Too late, the broken arrow sign on his phone, missed call, it was Daisy. He looked and sighed heavily, he was a bit confused. He stared at his screen pulled out a word document then stared at the blinking cursor. He scratched the crack of his elbow with a sad pout wondering, eyes fixed on the wall. His calendar, days crossed out in red. He looked back at his study table and noticed his mug was empty. He stood up and headed to the kitchen for some hot chocolate. He wanted to be soothed today; no more manic alertness from coffee and the tea started tasting bitter. Chocolate it was.

A few minutes later Sam returned with a colossal mug of hot chocolate and a juicy doughnut to wash it down with. He pushed his laptop aside and filled himself with the meal. His phone rang again, it was Daisy again. He ignored it. And began to Google search Clinton, Monica Lewinsky popped up. “A man’s ruin” he muttered under his breath. He sighed out of exasperation. Sam quickly licked his fingers and began to drum at his keyboard like crazy.

It always begins well, and soon it ends, painful, rotten and with a lot of blood… he began to type, his phone beeped, it was a message. He didn’t care to look at who it was from, Sam was busy. Typing away his frustration and echoing his ‘understanding’ of Clinton’s situation, “the affair that the world can never forget”, he muttered under his breath. After thirty minutes of drumming away at his keyboard, he paused, breathing fast and with sweaty palms the cursor now blinked; two full pages and a man about to pass out. He needed to let it out or he would burst.

Sam paused and took several deep breaths to calm himself down, he unclenched his fists and slowly began to take collection of his surroundings. He sipped his cup of hot chocolate and moved to his window. He stood and stared watching children scream from excitement as they played. Random goats pass by as they grazed on the little grass in the neighbourhood. Sam breathed normally again. He stood at that window observing the mundane life which seemed to give him some sense of relief; Life does go on after all he thought to himself.

The sun came up and warmed his face; he closed his eyes and sucked it all in with a smile warm and gentle. Daisy was his past and his future was bright.

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Oh! Yes! She did!

Laughter, clinking glasses and a manicured ‘high five’.

“Aki No! Joanne! Seriously…You…” Anyango continued.

“….I did! I cried on the phone for him….and don’t you dear judge me, Miss, ‘My mother doesn’t approve of you.’ How do you even tell a man that as an excuse to break up wth him? He hadn’t even met your mum. Heck! You don’t even know her.” Joanne retorted bursting into laughter. Anyango joined in and they high fived again.

“Anyango, I just don’t get it. I did, well I thought I loved him, after all he was my first…”

“The first and the worst, what was it you called him again, the “one minute cherry popping man…” Anyango looked at Joanne with a cheeky frown. Joanne pouted, shaking her head comically, with some of her braids falling on her face from here updo.

“I know that was mean, I was out of line with that…”Joanne felt remorseful.
“Even though it was true…”

“Give it a break Anyango, Albert was a nice guy.”

‘First of all, Jo- Anne, why would you even date an Albert?”

“I love you Anyango but at times you make me question this friendship, you tend to be so shallow sometimes.”

“Albert was great, he was tender….” Anyango laughed smacking the table and rocking the wine glasses. Joanne gave her a stern look and shook her head as she rolled her eyes.

“You have a lot of growing up to do Nyangi!” Joanne sipped her wine as Anyango wolfed down her steak.

“Ok fine, I will behave, why did you cry on the phone?”

“Just drop it. How is Mr. “Text language” doing?” Anyango choked on her meal, and quickly grabbed her glass of wine and gulped what she could. She let out a burp as she thumped her sternum.

Joanne was laughing so hard she began to tear.

“Looks like I hit a raw nerve.” Joanne smiled sipping her wine once again. “Go on, Miss Anyango” Joanne grinned sheepishly, and winked. Anyango rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, then closed it again. She was lost for words and looked around the room, as if she was scouting for Mr. “Text language”.

“Go on, he isn’t here…well not that I know what he looks like, go on you can whisper.” Joanne nudged her.

“Fine! He’s a midget. And they are every where, they pop up like roaches, crawling everywhere, into your mind, and pants.” Anyango rambled in paranoia and slight pleasure which she tried to hide. But the smirk on her face gave her away.

Joanne gasped. “No! You? Really? How was it?”

Anyango gestured as if she was zipping her lips and looked down at her plate sheepishly. Joanne laughed even more, now Anyango looked ashamed.

“Keep it down woman!” Anyango barked.

People in adjacent tables began to laugh also, the two ladies were so loud they couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

“But…You know the text language repulsed me, how the HELL do you type “Hae” to replace “Hi”, I thought the whole bloody purpose of text lanaguge was to economise on character use. That just adds to it and it is repulsive to type like that. UUUUUUURRRGGGG.”

Joanne had laughed so hard, tears flooded her face, holding her tummy, Joanne gasped for air.

“You are killing me. You pick on me for being sentimental and you just attract impropriaties in your love life.” Joanne laughed some more wiping her tears with her handkerchief.

“So he can’t spell, he is a midget and he has severe halitosis. Let me tell you even Listerine doesn’t get that taste out of your mouth after a kiss. Which I must add he is dreadful at.” Anyango was devastated as she spoke and repulsed, she looked like she was going to spit.

Joanne was laughing so hard the waiter asked them to keep it down. Joanne quickly stood and dashed to the ladies laughing. Anyango stayed at the table pouring more wine into her glass sipping away. About 10 minutes later, as Anynago took another sip from her glass, she froze. Joanne was back from the ladies still smiling and sighing.

“You made me pee on myself, go on…the midget…uhu…” Joanne sipped from her glass. Anyango looked like she had seen a ghost. She was mum with her finger pointing at the waiter who had just served them.

“What is the matter now Joanne, cat caught your tongue.” Joanne smiled as she turned. Joanne’s face went pale.

“Is that…” Joanne started. Anyango nodded with her mouth agape.

“Everything…the whole….he heard….” Anyango nodded

They were so absorbed in their conversation loud and glorious; they hadn’t noticed their waiter was Mr. “Text language” standing at his glorious 5 feet 2 inches.

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Dumbfounded

“You scare me.” Ted started.

“Ok? How exactly do I scare you?” Noreen, was a bit confused, she thought he wanted this.

“I can’t really explain…”

“Try to, because I don’t understand what may have made you feel that way Ted.”

“Like…like..what you have just done…”

“What? Stroke your back as I kissed your face?”

“No…”

“Then WHAT? WHAT Ted? I am confused, I show affection, you say you love me, now I scare you. What exactly do you mean scare you? You need to be clear…”

“That right there. Is what I mean!”

“Huh?” Noreen shook her head as she walked away, holding her temple like she was checking if she had a fever. This conversation was frustrating and going nowhere, and Ted really wasn’t helping. He just couldn’t articulate what was in his mind.

“Ted, do you need me to give you time to put your thoughts together?” She let out with a sigh of disappointment.

Ted nodded, then, “Wait!” He rushed to Noreen who was walking away. “Listen” He gently turned her as he held her waist.

“It’s not….not… that I don’t love you. You are an amazing woman; I love you with all my heart but…”

“BUT WHAT TED?” Ted lifted his index finger and gently pressed it against Noreen’s lips. Then he kissed her gently. “Let me finish honey. He whispered in her ears after the kiss.”

Noreen closed her eyes and tears began to streak down her cheeks. Ted kissed her forehead and held her in his arms. Noreen began to sob.

“I am not breaking up with you, and you don’t need to go…I love who you are, I love your drive, your tenacity….Honey, you are intense.”

Ted gestured again with his index finger, Noreen looked into his eyes pleading, scared, like a lost puppy. Ted kissed her forehead tenderly again. Noreen closed her eyes and steadily began to break from the embrace. Ted reached out for her arms, and looked at her intently.

“Noreen, you love hard, you fall hard, and that is a beautiful thing… at times it is scary and intimidating. You give fully of yourself and at times I don’t know how to respond. And at times I even ask myself why I deserve such selfless love. It at times almost feels unusual…”

Noreen broke off completely and walked to a nearby bench and plunked herself on it. She had nothing to say, but she sighed, expelling what seemed like relief. But she was still confused. Did Ted want her to love him less? What exactly was he asking of her?

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If Your Not The One…

I was working on my class assignment but I couldn’t continue before I got this out of my mind. I have spent several weeks thinking about you, us. My eyes have been opened to something new, maybe something real. Every time I think of it I feel exhilarated and at the same time stifled. I want to jump and at times I want to crawl in to a hole and never emerge to the warmth of the sun’s rays.

I ask myself why I love you so much, why I can’t let go of you and cease to be ‘selfish’ for not wanting you to be the man I thought you were. For seven years I have known of you, I created an ideal of who I thought you were. Something that I was comfortable that you were, that made me feel secure. I know now that that was a lie a lie that almost jeopardized everything. I feel that now I am getting to know you.

But however much being with you now is a new experience, I still find myself burdened with an unconditional love for your being. I ask myself why, why you, what has he done to deserve this? Why do I feel endeared to him? What outstanding thing has he done for you that ideally, once again perceived, a ‘real’ man should do? The answer, unfortunately nothing much.

But why do I stay? Why do I long to be in your arms, cup your face in my palms and gaze endlessly into your gorgeous baby eyes and feel your supple, dark countenance. Even thinking about you right now takes me to places no man has ever taken me. You have shown me nothing but respect and kindness that only God can repay. You never took advantage of me sexually which at times almost made me feel unattractive and unwanted, you have tried to explain it; you do care. I just need to learn that things may not always play out with us as they ideally would, with other people, in a similar situation.

Maybe listening to this sensual 60’s music may not be helping me right now. But being with you yesterday and seeing a glint of something intangible but emotionally exhilarating, I was drawn to you again. I don’t know how long this cycle will go on, of falling in and out of love with you, or even if it should end. I am learning that friendship is more important than romance with us. Again I ask myself why, why you? I fight the counter argument ‘why not you?’, because that might just be me being selfish again. And the response isn’t that you are perfect, perfection doesn’t exist, it is a human creation of an ill conceived premise.

After much thought as I walked home today I had an answer to why, maybe, I might never stop loving you in this life time. You made sweet and tender love to me…without laying a finger on me. You gently spread my world to new horizons, kissing and caressing new revelations of my being and taking me to new orgasmic realms of a fulfilled life and existence.

Anyone who can give another human being that much mental intimacy, something that you only see once in a lifetime is worth cultivating. I am on a new journey with you. I want to start a fresh with you. I would first like to introduce myself and start on a clean slate.

Hi, I am Stephanie, you can call me Steph if you like, what’s your name?

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Distorted love

They lay there both drenched in sweat, Sarah smiled exhilarated, she gazed into Anthony’s eyes and for a moment there she saw something in his eyes that threw her off. She stopped for a moment and looked again to see that she wasn’t imagining what she just saw. Sarah arose from the bed and went to the bathroom.

“Hurry up! We can go one more round.” Anthony called out cheekily.

Sarah hopped into the shower and let the water flow in full force. She lathered up and let the water flow over her body. Her mind was racing, darting from one end to another, she began to cry. Why was she crying? It didn’t make sense, she loved her man, she was in a great relationship. She had just made love to the man of her dreams and now she just felt heavy. What was going on here? Sarah stood there; she closed her eyes and wished everything away.

“Babe! Babe! Babe!” Anthony knocked on the door disrupting her thoughts. “You OK in there? It’s been 40 minutes.”

“I will be out in a few”, Sarah said as she turned up the shower again, she just stood there enjoying the water and then 10 minutes later turned off the shower, and walked out. She walked to the sink and whipped out her brush and paste and brushed her teeth for almost 5 minutes. She wrapped that up, opened the cabinet and whipped out her dental floss and flossed away.

The bathroom door opened and the smell of cocoa butter shower gel emerged with a squeaky clean Sarah. Anthony was seated on the bed with his boxer shorts, head hung down between his spread legs, he lifted his face and worry was spelt all over his countenance. “Honey, did I do something wrong?”

Sarah shook her head. “You want to talk about it?” Anthony tried to push a response. Sarah stood and stared into Anthony’s searching eyes and shook her head once again and a tear streamed down her face. She picked up her lotion and some clothes from the wardrobe and went straight into the bathroom. Ten minutes later smelling of vanilla and chocolate, Sarah emerged garbed in sweat pants and matching hoodie.

“Don’t wait up for me, I will be back soon.” She said as she headed for the bedroom door.

Anthony leapt from the bed and straight into her arms. “Baby if I did something wrong; tell me, don’t go alone, let me go with you, it’s 3 in the morning. It’s not safe.”

Sarah broke down in his arms and Anthony carried her to the bed. “Talk to me Sarah, I am here.” She couldn’t muster a word. They sat there; Sarah in Anthony’s arms crying helplessly. Anthony baffled and frustrated that he had no clue what was going on. Sarah‘s tears were equally out of frustration, she didn’t know what was going on either. Anthony rocked Sarah in his arms till they both eventually fell asleep an hour later.

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Love made in Mogadishu

“How was your Christmas and New Year’s break?” Kanini asked her friend Abdi Fatah.

“It was great! I just got back from Mogadishu.” He said with a huge grin.

“Mogadishu?” Kanini was baffled, in her head she added, “…and it was great?” Kanini couldn’t believe Abdi saw anything worth celebrating or being happy about. Kanini had to know more, how did he even make it back, his family actually lives there, out of choice? Why would you do that to yourself? Kanini thought Abdi is Kenyan what was this nonsense of his family being based in Mogadishu? Kanini wasn’t that ignorant to call him or his family terrorists. She knew they would be more of the targets of Shabaab or something.

Abdi could read what could be going through her mind. “I know.” He said as he gently held her hand and directed her to sit. “Let me help you understand.” He smiled ever so gently. Kanini looked down feeling ashamed that she had asked.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. Everyone thinks it…at least you seem to really want to understand.”

“Ok…I am sorry if I was judgmental, I just don’t understand how you can find joy amidst the carnage and bullet ridden buildings. I am sorry…”

“Shhh!” he pressed his index finger against his mouth and hissed. He pulled out his phone and began to scroll through images. It was the shores of a beach, children and adults laughing and playing. Then there was the picture of a market and then another of an amazing restaurant and another of a sign in a restaurant, he translated it for Kanini.

“No Ak 47s, pistols or knives and machetes allowed in here.” We looked at each other and laughed.

He showed Kanini pictures of university students in class. He told her of the risks they have to take to get to class. Kanini laughed and teared. She was relieved and slightly ashamed of herself. There was life, lots of it. People went beyond the constant odds against them and they had to live.

“Devlish tenacity to live, we Somalis have…” Abdi smiled and Kanini mouthed, “Sorry.”

“Kanini, it is OK. If I wouldn’t have shared my story with you, you would never have known. That’s why I needed to tell you.”

Kanini sighed and shrugged her shoulders, she was really sorry for being so arrogantly judgmental with her perception of Somalis and Somalia as a whole. The country is yes, a failed state, but the truth is, people were still going about their lives. Somalis from the diaspora still returned home to rebuild and establish enterprise to get the economy moving.

Abdi smiled, Kanini smiled back, Kanini began to giggle, he began to giggle then they both burst in to uncontrollable laughter.

“Here one more photo,” Abdi scrolled to it, an image of him and his family in a studio photo in Mogadishu in the early nighties. “God is great! We are all alive and well; all eight of us.” Kanini nodded. They embraced.

“Let’s go eat some Anjeera.” Kanini said, Abdi laughed, held her hand and she arose from her seat. Off they went to a Somali restaurant in Nairobi.

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Rigged Love

It has been six years since I met Teddy. It started off as a joke really, at work, I would taunt him, softly, he was easy to bully. He was cool! And he played along without complaint. We started having lunch together, most of the time I bashed his work, it started off more on a general stance. I felt that people in his department were lethargic and I felt it was prudent to point out that when they screw up our department catches all the heat.

The discussions shifted from work, to life in general, philosophical debates on Socrates and John Locke to episodes of Tom & Jerry. We both loved the Fred Quimby produced version and detested the ugliness of today’s animations. It was refreshing. Most of my life I have been told that I intimidate men. It felt great to be with a man who enjoys my company and saw beyond what everyone else saw.

It started off cordial, and with time there was an emotional attachment. It was then I started noticing how attractive he actually was, he smelt great and his clothes, man, we may work in blue collar, but when he whips off his overalls and slips back into his khakis and tweed jacket, darn! My heart melts, handsome son of a gun! I loved the way we would exchange silent gazes and smiles at lunch.

We discovered we lived close to each other and we would go home together, we would talk for ages. We would walk from the bus stop and just sit on the verandah of an apartment block and talk for an extra two to three hours, getting home at midnight. It was never anything romantic, purely life, career and mostly politics and philosophy. Teddy was so awesome to be around! Fabulous chap!

It all changed one evening after our long talk, as I hugged him goodbye he mumbled something. And then I asked him what he was going on about. This was about two years of just talking. “I want to do something and I am not sure I should.” I told him to make it like Nike and Just do it! I was utterly clueless at what was to happen next. Teddy kissed me and ran like a shy 10 year old. I laughed at him as he ran home. “Good night Teddy”. One hand waving high in the air as he ran.

My heart raced, I was confused, but what was ignited in me wasn’t going to die at all. Since that kiss 2 years ago, we’ve gotten close to making love. But never had, the last time, in the heat of the moment, Teddy said that I deserved better. I was crushed. Thoroughly. I thought that was my decision to make. He made it for me, he disqualified himself from my life. I don’t know how to shake him off, ignoring him helps at times. Then there are moments I smell him and remember the jokes and laughter. I feel completely horrible and unsure of what to do with myself. How do I rid myself of this dreadful burden? How do I let go of this man, who I fell madly in love with?