Shattered Dreams.

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(Photo credits: Ms. JenifferPatta)

March 3 2016.

Bellavista.

1400hrs.

It’s been a week since we last spoke. Technically, it’s a few days. Ego and pride shot up through the roof. Not a good start, aye. To something beautiful that was meant to be long lasting. A few misunderstandings caused this. I on my other hand didn’t know on how to deal with such situations. They often left me awed. Unattended arguments, fights that went left, right and center. Then came the silence. It made me feel uncomfortable with my own woman. Yes. A very uneasing feel chewed its way right into our plans.

Marriage. We planned to have kids. Atleast that’s how most marriages began. Our different religions didn’t deter us either. I could say we were in love, or perhaps that was the notion? An answer I’d have never known if I hadn’t met her. We lived in two different towns. Practically long distance relationships were never my thing. I used to live with the notion, “out of sight, out of mind”. She changed that notion. My inner self tried to hammer sense deep within me. But do I ever listen? I threw caution to the wind. Determination to make it work clouded me. The gods and my ancestors left me to my own devices.

“What a silly little child”, they chuckled.

I had my doubts. Shoved them to the back of my mind I did. Little fears and insecurities they were. Atleast that’s what I told myself. The distance never mattered either. Communication was constant. It wasn’t one sided mostly. We had all those promises that all silly couples who are in love do make. I was quite proud that I was moving on away from the many unhealthy relationships I’ve had in the past. I learnt to love myself and my partner. It wasn’t that rosy eithe but we had our best days.
Whenever I’d take my leave, I’d find way to be with my love. Naive I was. Everything was centred around her to a point that I almost forgot my existence. The little red signs and flags zoomed right past through my face. Perhaps slow down and take a detour from all this heartfelt hullabaloo?

Aaaaah, whiskey, such a good friend. The consolations it offers and the “advices” ring right till your senses pick up the phone.

Whiskey: Hello sense, been a while.

Sense: Yes, finally you came. About time to jumpstart me to reality.

Whiskey: Guy here is really being a sissy.

Sense: It happens whenever he thinks with his bloody heart. I miss the moments when he used to think with his little brain down there.

Whiskey: Those were the days mate. No one to worry about and we used to live without a single care in the world.

Sense: So what about now?

Whiskey: His judgement with time it’s about to become poor. Wanna give a hand in this?

Sense: Sure. That heart would ruin him someday.

Whiskey: At times you should be lynched for the atrocities you’ve led him through. Especially his unstable relationships in the past.

Sense: I protect my turf. Laters.

Oflate she doesn’t want me around her place. Whenever I tell her to come over, she claims, “I’m busy”. A sure way to kill both mood and conversation. I order two fingers of whiskey. I like it neat. Her silence is deafening. The sister on the other hand, well, we never see eye to eye lately. I signal the waiter to bring my bill.

A nice white blouse not fully buttoned that reveals her cleavege. Yellow yellow tits. Down below she dons a pretty little black mini skirt with a slit that expose her voluptuous thighs. Not today. I place a thousand shillings in her hand and leave.

Waiter: Excuse sir, your change?

Me: What change, (I smile, then head to the exit.)

The waiter is quite perplexed. No biggie. I should go home. It’s been quite tiresome having to explain technological mambo jambo to people who are not computer literate. My phone rings. I begin to wonder who is calling me at such moments. Her perhaps?

Me: Hello,

Philipo: Yow Cliff where thee at? I reserved space for you at our locals.

Me: (Wondering to myself, which local? I’m known in very many popular joints). Sawa ping me the location I’ll be there in the next thirty.

Philipo: Cool.

Philipo. The guy most women confuse or would pass off as a bouncer. He likes putting on black tees that show off his muscles. He’s our security guy, incase things go wrong off at the club. Humble guy though.

1600hrs.

Shots Bar.

Bamburi.

If it weren’t for Philipo and Franklin (whom we call Ranki). I won’t be here watching football. Feels good whenever Manchester fans are being flogged by a small team.

Ranki: Mamaz mmeongea naye? (You talked to your woman?)

Philipo: Uyo naona amekuacha, ama ako na mwingine. (I think she left your sorry ass, or she got somebody new.)

Me: Tuko hapa kuwatch game ama kuongelelea mamaz. (Are we here to watch the game or discuss my woman?).

Ranki: Mguys, utakua representative wetu? (Can you be our representative?)

Philipo:Uende urepresent company yetu kwa summit flani huko majuu? (You can represent our company at some summit abroad?)

Ranki: Najua hatuna mtu wa hands on ikifika kwa mambo ya tech. Na tunadai kuimpress hizi junguz ndio tuget deal flani apo na mapesa zianguke. (We dont have a guy whose conversant with tech stuf and we need to impress these white folks so that we can clinch the deal. The money flows right from there.)

Me: Whats my cut?

Ranki: Everything is catered for in this business meeting. Air tickets, visa, whatever you need man. I’ll give you 20% of it.

Me: Give me a day or two I think about it. Let it sink in me.

Philipo: And stop whining about women. What happened to you man?

A pitiful look they both cast at me. This is going to be one long evening. I should treat my liver to its fill. We watch the game in silence. I’m pondering on what to do next. Should I take their deal? There has never been a setback when it came to the money. Yes. It’s not the first time dealing with them either.

The game ends with Manchester United winning. They came from two goals behind to equalize and added another extra goal. I’ll let her decide the longevity of the silence. I’m quite accustomed to the blueticks and the status sneer remarks. Since when did I grow soft? Philipo orders another bottle of whiskey. They are not keen on letting me go. They decided that they would hammer me with whiskey until the time I’d quit whimpering about her.

A pleasant thursday evening. The place is getting full and livelier. A day shy from the weekend. Tomorrow I wont be working either. Win win situation for me. Ranki is the sober guy. The chauffeur when we decide to misbehave. On my part, any day is a drinking day. So long as my stars have aligned well.

I don’t drink and drive. Not when I’m taking huge amounts of liquor and sobriety flies out of the world. Two weeks ago I missed an idiot who decided to cross the road at some undesignated point and ended up veering of the road and into a ditch. So the haily ‘Little’ does it for me. The only good decision made.

Out of my past conquests. Conquering was what reigned those days before I met my woman. One would be a hero from the more merry making and bedding women. Utter rubbish. Some hearts were torn, others daggered to the extent that it teared the soul. Others we forgot their names as soon as the deed was done. I have no wild oats out there.

2000hrs.

Kendas.

Mtwapa.

I have no idea how I reached at this strip joint. I have no recollection. Everything seems to zoom off past me. Four bottles of whiskey. I think I shall call it a night. Autopilot caught up with me. I can see women grinding and gyrating. Naked women, half dressed women. Ladies standing outside a dimly lit alley. I figure out that they are whores. You can here grunts and groans of someone having a cheap lay down the alleyway. Everything is blurry and disoriented in a fashionable manner.

March 4 2016.

0700hrs.

Blue Residents Apartments.

Kilifi.

I wake up to the smell of coffee and breakfast being made. I can hear a child shrieking and laughing. A woman’s voice is heard too. I notice I’m in unfamiliar surroundings. The ceiling looked different. The room smelled nice. Something more of lavender cherries, unlike mine, which smelled of cigarettes. I’m in different clothes. What the hell I’m I doing in a pyjamas?

The door swings open, and a woman comes in holding a tray full of bacon, coffee and sandwiches. A little girl holds the hem of her dress from behind giggling.

Her: Been a while, welcome home. This is our daughter Ashley.

Ashley: Hi, Daddy, It’s nice finally meeting you. (She stretches her little hand to me).

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Joy Oketch says:

    Awesome… I love your articles

  2. ubernesh says:

    Dope piece my guy!

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