Day 3: God must be a woman

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GOD MUST BE A WOMAN

I am tucked at the back left seat of our car, like a small baby being driven to school. At the driver’s seat, Ceasar (cousin) and Collo (friend) is the co-driver. I have all the back seat for myself. Ceasar and Collo chat all the way through in low tones and I cannot keep up with what they are saying. In a daze, I drift off to a slumber because travelling to Kisii is such a long journey. Our beast licks the tar at 130kph.

At around 8 pm I feel the car breaking sharply and my mind awakens. In less than a minute, all I hear is “Toka!Toka!Toka!.” In my mind, death is here to take me away. I am helpless and hopeless. The auto is moving backward and I am the only one inside Czar and Collo having jumped out.

I can’t get to strap off my seat belt or open the door. But the vehicle going backwards tells me I am falling off a cliff and I need to say my last wishes. At this moment, I stop struggling, in fact I start looking for my kicks. Never knew why because, hell, maybe I wanted to die while wearing my shoes.

I am writing this story from bed. In a locked room, and I am naked. There is a PC on my bed and next to it is my member smiling. Being naked has got nothing to do with this story. It has got everything to do with me appreciating my body for being alive today.

God pulled me out of a mangled wreck of a car. God must be a woman because that was quite a caring spirit. We survived a smashed bonnet, windscreen, driver window, wrecked engine and impactful crash. Getting out for me was a miracle.

So today’s piece on what went on in KU might be a little bit incoherent because I suffered a brain shock. I have been living in a daze since then, not having any words to explain the experince we had yesterday. I don’t know whether you’ve been in a circumstance where a million things happen in less than a minute, like a bunch of fruits all wrapped in one paper and you’re eating them all at once.

I knew some day would come. This day. Only that I didn’t know how and when it would want to hug me right in my sleep. When I looked at the what used to be a sleek BMW M5 Sport, then I understood that things are not meant to last. So never have a sentimental attachment to anything, even worse, anyone. One day you’ll be heart broken that the same thing or person you loved is the one to leave you with hot coal under your feet. The same to change your life- break your neck or spine, smash your face into grotesque pieces, run you down, or even take the life in you.

God, must be a woman, if not, such a great gentleman.

Amen!

Diary of a Lost Casanova

DAY 3: Tuesday

KISSING THE ASS

My routine is wake up at 6 and exercise for at least 25 minutes. I crank my legs up on the metal frames by my small bed and work 30 pull ups followed by working my stomach by taking my legs up and down while on my back. I hit 50 press ups, with an allowance of 30 seconds rest, I go another 50 steady jumps, do some other stuff that has no names and then hit the shower for a refreshing bath. I take exactly 10 minutes.

Vincent asks for my body jelly. Being this generous guy, I hand him my Armis. Armis is the one used to milk cows. It my special, or is it favourite. When I use it on my body, I feel like a baby. Come on now! We all want to feel like babies, right?

Breakfast rotates around black tea, two croissants and a sausage. I choose black tea. When my demons are good, I take nylon tea because I want to lower my sugar consumption rate in every way possible. Sugar makes me feel lethargic. After finishing, Mercy who is on the line to get served gives me this quick and tight hug that leaves others pouring their eyes to us. I leave after a small talk.

DAY 2 IN CLASS

I meet Ruth already in her seat. An early riser? I don’t know. I greet her and we don’t talk much. Leaning to my right, we continue chatting with Vincent. He is a young dude studying in Jkuat, pursuing Radiotherapy or something. Sophomore I guess because he finished high school in 2015. How I know this, I peeped into his phone and saw Kanga High 2015 WhatsApp group. A journalist doing homework.

The class kicks off at around 8.30am with Linda taking the wheel to jam start us, to which we respond positively. Laughter, chuckles and whispers fill the room. All students want sometimes in a classroom is a breakaway to take them to another environment with less rules and almost nil compelling commitments.

As usual, I spot Mary with her ass some seats in front. I lean towards Vincent and whisper, “Kuna msichana ako apo mbele tu ye hunimaliza. Ako na haga tamu sana na ni msexy.” The dude just smiles and laughs. He is good at that.

The day moves quite well. The trainers take us through requirements needed to work online. Adding to that, they also introduce to us various types of online work. This inlcudes article writing, transcription, web research, virtual assistant, translation, et al.

We tackle one by one, ripping through the sub categories and specific skills tied to its success. We eat all the meat in between the bones and knock down joints for any bone marrow by asking questions and getting proper responses. Ron was a pro in this. Salut!

During break time, I forge the line for tea and get served my nylon tea with a bun. For me, eating is a sacred activity that arrests my 99% attention. Meaning, I usually look for lonely spots and religiously devour it down while feeling it exchange greetings with my stomach.

Thereafter, I don’t know what goes on, but I do remember lunch time because of chicken. The day actually moves quite fast.

MEETING HER

Classes end at 5 pm. I head down to Kilimabogo and slip under the blankets to catch up with a fast siesta. I need it badly because my mind is literary jammed. It feels locked and nothing can penetrate without a shot of a nap. But I set my alarm at 6.45pm before I close my eyes.

In my sweet sleep, I experince this dream where I drop to a dark unending hole. While doing so, I try to grapple at anything to get me some hold but there is nothing. As I fall, I am screeming at the top of my voice but there is no sound coming out.

It should be understood that when I dream I usually have real experiences. This makes dreams a nightmare for me. The suffering is just terriffic and at times I pray to God to take the cup of dreams away from my life. I still have hope.

As I go for supper luck finds me. I come along Mercy and her beautiful friend, Mary. This Mary, is a different Mary from the one that I keep talking about. You remember the one in my class? The talk picks a new development and there is more laughter and a louder banter.

At the dining table, Mary is so sidelined by our conversation with Mercy. Just like evil, luck finds her when a close friend of hers (a dude) joins our table and they keep trudging on in their own path as we do in ours, using our local lingo in some instances.

FURNISHING THE NIGHT

Whatever is going on between us is not going to break soon, Mary realizes so. Her with his friend (I forgot his name), they leave to go and continue signing up for some of the writing sites. Times travels by like a man in suit going across the Atlanta. Lights go off and we’re chased away. Well, I lied about that. We’re asked to move out because it is time to close down.

Our talk continues for hours. Such a close talk that reveals all the hidden unsaid feelings lying dormantly for all those years. She is such good, and worth spending time with. Our talk swindles from one point of intersection to a boundary, and another and another.

Laughter, nods, touches, smiles, whispers. People come and go, but we’re still outside Ngong Hostel.” Oh boy! It shouldn’t end. It shouldn’t. We should go and sleep in the same room and keep on talking. Keep looking into each other’s eyes and locking their gazes. Keeping rubbing each other’s back and later sleep close to each other.”

Dreams. Wishes. All like an open book on each other’s face.

Mary comes by and wonders what we might be still talking about. We wish her a good night…Sleep well, beautiful. Sleep well.

***Tight and another tighter,looong hug.***

On my way back to Kilimambogo, I get lost. So lost that I discover shortcuts work for our own bad.

I go straight to bed because it is almost 11pm. I clutch tightly to the memories and slide into my blankets after changing to my sleeping apparel.

God, take me home. Take my mind off this world of pain and let me lie down beautifully like an innocent baby. Do not let me think of anything other than peace of mind. Let me slip…let me go Lord…let me go to sleep.

*zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz*

Day 4 loading……………….

May God be praised that I survived the accident.

Amen,

Mzangila.

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One thought on “Day 3: God must be a woman

  1. excuse me mzangila, ur cretivity looks heart skeeping. i write too bt ur creativity n skills r such that affectioning that i dont feel like letting go, plz i wanna meet u.. very soon b4 u end thé training. help plz i stay here at bypass Ruiru. i blv my appointment is on time.

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