Her Thought Piece

It's 5:23 am, Monday morning. It's pouring and the excess water draining from the roof is slapping the corridor a little too hard. Now I'm awake before I really should and it sucks to have to start this new week with these eyebags I'm staring at on the wardrobe mirror.  I wanna text my person. I haven't seen him all weekend and I miss him so bad my toes hurt. He sent me a text late last night that I peeped at while drifting in and out of sleep. It fazed me. I had waited and waited for the reply and I'm dead ass that skeleton meme lying on the bed. Dude takes his sweet time and I love that about him. He's sweet as 12 icecreams.  I like it slow. I told him that when he asked to be the person I share most of my life with. I like to check what someone is made of before I dive in, feet first. I'm a brittle maiden who craves love and all the good stuff that comes with it. I have done this love thing before and many are times that it's ended in tears. Not e

“It’s obvious that by now you know I like you a lot.” “What?” I retort with a cheeky face I make when I’m trying to downplay these situations. “I do, and it feels like you’re stealing my heart ma’am.” “But I am a career criminal Sir, you shouldn’t be surprised.” My humour kicks in and I’m getting excited. “I can’t have you running in the streets free like that, I should cuff you sometime.” “Well, catch me if you can!” and I cough faintly. “Ok, get your witty ass in we got to go.”   I have a cold but he says we should go out. He insists and fine, I let him have it. I could manage. We drive off to grab some burgers at the mall and catch up in an open space. He says staying indoors and cuddling up with my teddy bear, Bubbles, doesn’t help. He speaks like an indigenous Kenyan and I totally understand. He says I look good today. With my blue cardigan sweater, jeans and bata ngomas. “But my eyes are bloodshot don’t you see? “But I said what I said Monique.” His inner self mus

Just another day of sitting by myself. The rain is pouring, the mist hastily blinding my dusty window from the dreamy sight of falling droplets, and the overcast skies.  Blackouts go hand in glove with such a weather in my country, and the silence disrupts your peace of mind. It felt better dancing to the music in front of the mirror, to binge watch series and play games on my computer. That feels like an easy way of living by myself, no? To drown in to social media, easy.  Now the silence. The cold starts to bite and I slide quickly beneath my furry blankets. And that's not enough. I need a hot drink and snack to warm up faster but getting up from this snug is something I don't want to do. If only someone could come through for me. If only they'd cuddle me up and touch a little, and smooch a little more.  The silence plunges me deeper. To what makes me happy. What keeps me single and solo and satisfied. What gives me the will to live off myself, physically a

"Aki Sue call me in 2 minutes. It's mayday!" I am hysterical and sweating bullets. It's 6:45 p.m during this pandemic. I am too far but I must go home. I hate it here. I loathe this man.  My girlfriend knows the drill and calls back sounding very fierce. My call volume is intentionally high so the man can overhear how impatient my "cousin waiting by my door" is. He now drives a little fast and my heart races even faster, it's winning I can tell. My veins are almost popping out of my skin in dire attempt to guise my disgust. I would cry but Fergie says big girls don't do that.  I know, I know, I should get an Uber but it's actually late. I am a scaredy cat and he's my safest bet home I swear, which hella sucks at this point. He's an authorized medic so I guess we won't be landing into any trouble with the hungry and blood thirsty night crawlers. My bad, I meant to say cops.  There's some serious traffic but in an hour we pull up at

...Phil calls and an involuntary smile fills up my face. I can’t get used to his croaky voice. It makes me nervous and I like it. “So what’s up?” I ask. He says he wants to see me, he’s off work. I too am home. “Can I come?”, he asks, “I have some wine and I miss seeing you laugh so sheepishly”. Yes, wine gets me drunk. I have been a teetotaler all my life until Phil happened, a month ago. He comes and soon we are seated on the floor chatting and teasing. He draws me in for a kiss. I am complaisant this time. I respond in kind and we get lost in a shameless hearty moment until he feels his phone ring in his pocket. Damn! It’s been a 5-year hiatus from physical intimacy and I feel heat surging through my body. I could scream but as for Phil…  I 100% recommend. I let him answer and on getting his phone out, oh whoop! The balloons slip out too. I cock my eyebrows, in a quizzical stare and he gives me the smug smile back. It’s her I could tell and he was not hiding it.

It's a Friday night in an eighth full matatu(team positivity) and I'm going wherever the party's at. I'm a little frustrated from frantic calls I'm getting from another fella and I won't pick them anyway. A raggedy brother hops in, looks around and he settles for where I am. I'm mad, what are all these empty se ats for? I know I'm not looking pretty as my hair is held back with no much thought put into neatness. I'm in a trenchcoat and some random pants I jumped into hurriedly. Or it's that thing they say about you being who you att ract? I'm actually mad because he has a boiled maize on his left that he's gnawing at unapologetically and a fat avocado on his right. Wait, no, that's no crime. It's his chewing that's getting to my nerves. "You can have a bite," he offers with his mouth full and pointing the maize at me. I'll pass lawfully. My reason being chewing maize is exhausting for me, so I'm