The word “forget” is such a heavy word especially when referring to a human being you last spoke to ages ago. I had forgotten about her. Burried her and built a tombstone on her grave in my bottomless pit of memory. A place where memories go to die with no hopes of surfacing up in my subconscious.
A week ago she popped up in my head. It was 2 a.m. I was struggling to catch some sleep, even if it would be a whiff of it. I turned and tossed in bed, nothing came up. I shut my eyes tightly and all I could see was phosphene. There were no lights. My phone was playing kalongo longo with me. Normally I would have woken up and powered on my computer and see if I would binge watch any movie that had not caught my attention. Instead it was total darkness. No late night writing and it was raining.
Everything was engulfed in total silence. You could hear the crickets serenading each other as the frogs croaked. The rain mercilessly hammered the iron sheets as it made a rhythmic drumming sound. The place I am in isn’t where one could complain that there was no electricity. KPLC guys feel like gods around here. They would generally take their ample time to respond to any sort of alarm. Very few folks are in Twitter. The rest are in those other apps where they put those thingmajigs on their foreheads and stick out their tongues like a burukenge. Total buffoonery it is. These KPLC guys will fix electricity when they want to fix it.
So it was me and the darkness. At such an hour of unholy alliances. Darkness coupled up with lack of sleep. Total recipe for a disaster waiting to be unleashed. A lot of things pop up in your mind. You recall some excerpt of a book you just read. You make plans. Some that would materialize and others ending up being a pipe dream. You recall some songs. The songs that you actually hate decide to linger in your for a while. You actually hum to some of them. You think of people. You think of life, basically how you’d have handled different situations.
In that ka moment of loneliness so much rolls through your head. You finally understand why people decide to walk down the altar and say, “I do.” You get to know why people tend to look for companionship. Cause it is so hard to sit alone in the dark storm. We need to find that someone who can walk with us through the dark. Someone who can hold our hands and tell us that it would be okay. Someone to kiss and cuddle. Someone to shag perhaps not out of pity, but because we feel them. We want someone to share our thoughts of two in the freaking morning. But you see there is no beauty in darkness. There is no beauty in treading down the path of the treacherous souls. Very few people find beauty in the darkness and most tend to be insane and lonely. Maybe I am the insane type who finds such beauty in darkness. I tend to find the most beautiful stories out of broken people who are beyond repair.
It was at that two in the morning when this girl walked into my thoughts. For heavens sake, it had been eons. But why now when all I needed was just to find some damn sleep? She had an afro kinky curl bob hairstyle. If I’m correct on the name that is. My recollections of her are a bit hazy. She dyed her hair grey. That type of grey you only see in movies. The grey that has an ashy color.
Her body was well curved and well built. She had a slender waist which led down to curvy hips and she was blessed with a bright future behind of her. In short, she had a nice body that every woman dreamed of. Some misguided guys would tell you how you should look at the heart first then the body. It’s the total opposite of that. Body first, then heart later. She was the yellow yellow type. They say the darker the berry the sweeter the juice? I don’t know, but what I know from the creation story was that the light came first. Her smile was infectious. She had perfect square white teeth.
She knew she was hot. She knew that guys oggled at her butt most of the time. She had a chic aura. She was tall but not that imposing. And such chilles to break through her barrier would involve a lot of logistics. With such height differences who would call the other dzaddy? Each to their own preference though. The most defeating thing as a guy is when you hug a lady and you get lost in her bossom. It would make one feel like a penguin.
We were in some certain mall that had a gaming center when she showed up. A friend of another friend called her. When we done with gaming and decided to have on for the road she decided to call the shots. I politely declined. She asked what was wrong with me. I told her nothing was, I just like keeping things within my reach. We were not in a buddy buddy type of friendship.
You probably wondering at this point why I never hit on the said so chille when I have a high definition mental picture of her. Images just get stuck in my head and I remember even the most of random things.
The led strap bar flickered on and then went off. “Oh crap”, I thought.
I met the girl again in some computer shop in town. She was seated on a bench waiting to be served. I planned to ignore and lenga that story like nobodies business. But then she made eye contact with me. I had to say hi to her. We talked. She asked me what brought me there. And I told her supplies. She said that she brought her laptop to be fixed. At some point I had to seat down cause the queue was damn long. She opened up like a wild flower.
Things were not so well with her boyfriend. They were on a stalemate of some sort. I’m not the type to like happily ever after, so I decided to lean on in this particular story and see where it headed. She had a liquor store business. She got the liquor, did the pricing and sorting them out. Her dude on the other hand did the supplies and brought out the machwaa back. They shared the same bed, so it was more than just an alcohol relationship. There was no alcohol her in the morning to see if she fikaad safe. They would split the money into half. Pumping one half back into the business and the other half would be blown by parte after parte. They were a young couple with no loans nor kids to worry about. Money was good, relationship was fine just as the way normal young relationships would be.
At one point she had made so much money that she had a figure close to a million. It maybe not that much to guys who are used to drinking high end whiskeys, but it is alot for anyone between the ages of 24-30. One evening she had baked some weed cookies and some weed cakes. Her boyfriend came up with three bottles of whiskey. They got high, and ate some of the weed pastries and screwed each other like hell. I can’t confirm this. I’m not in a position to do so. At some point she dozed off. They had been together for three years.
When she woke up, there was no one. Just her wrapped in a bed sheet to cover her nakedness. She called his name, but nothing. She turned the lights on, there was just no trace. The guy just vamoosed. She checked her wardrobe and found three quarters of the money missing. She arranged the money neatly in her wardrobe. When she called him, his phone would be answered but not a single soul spoke from the other end of the line.
He was gone like the wind. She didn’t show any remorse as she told me that. She never expected things to take a turn and be on a stalemate because of money. They had began when they were dead flat broke. The guy who helped get her money load light, skipped towns.
It is low to steal from a woman.
I didn’t see her again. It has been a year and eight months now.
A week ago, as I tried to court my sleep, she popped up in my head. I have no idea if she is around, where she is. I don’t have her number. Heck I can’t even remember her name. It pisses women when you have to ask their name for a second time when they had told you earlier. Hahaha.
I just want to know if she found her boyfriend, if he ever returned her money back. Did she get wind of him? How does it feel to sleep with someone who steals from you? Did she forgive him? Did they reconcile?
I can’t remember her name, so I’ll just have to call her A-65.