Posts in category: Entertainment

I am woken up by noise from my door “Knock, knock, Mom open for me, Mom I want to pee in your bathroom, Moooooooom open pleeeeeeaaaase!”

“Is it morning already?” I ask myself before opening the door.

“Moooooooom opeeeeen”

“Darren wait Baba, just a minute baby I am coming”

Oh God! It is 7:30PM! I clear my room quickly as I hide the wine bottle, I brush my teeth because the first thing this boy does is hug me and chum chum on my face, ears, hair, waaaa! A real Mama’s boy. I am a bit sober, I open the door and let my only son in.

“Mom I want water”

“Aaiih! My fren si umetoka chini?”

“Yes, but I want you to give me water”

Mothers will understand this scenario. So no one could give this lil man water apart from me? Anyway, this only means I have to go to the kitchen and get water for “Mr. Kingston”. Of course he follows me.

“Mum please give me your phone, I want to play a game”

“My phone has no battery”

“It has, I have it and its not off yet”

“Poela!”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing, okay use it but don’t take too long, don’t delete my documents”

I get him water, In the kitchen I meet Myra preparing dinner while Dela is in the sitting room watching  TV. I proceed to the sitting room to join my daughter.

“Hey baby”

“Hey Mum”

“Daddy is not home yet?”

“He said he was going to see uncle Sam and drove off”

“Ooh! Okay!”

My daughter is that calm baby of the house, but very curious and inquisitive as well. Sometimes we even have talks as if we are sisters, kids of today huh? She comes close to me and asks if I want to watch another channel. I tell her it is okay, she can enjoy her program. She comes closer and starts to play with my hair as though it was a mess, she combs it nicely and she asks….

“Mom, are you okay?”

“Yes honey, why?”

“You don’t look okay, did Daddy offend you? Please forgive him. Pastor Ken said today that if someone does wrong to you, forgive them”.

“I know baby, but I am fine, Daddy is a great person he has not wronged me in any way”

Painting my husband as a bad person to my children is the last thing I can ever do. I mean, he has his faults, but he is a great dad to my babies, even if I was to leave this house today, he wont let me go with his kids. Ben is a good Father, reason why I have always fallen in love with him every day of my 8 years since I met him.

“Okay Mom, but remember to  buy me the skate shoes you promised me”.

“Deal”.

Food is ready, my daughter’s favourite, rice with french beans. I eat with my children but I am not at peace. My heart is pumping as though I was Kipchoge after INEOS 1:59. No appetite but my children can not eat if I am not eating, so I have to force myself. Mothers, you know what I mean?

Myra asks if I need anything, I say no, she goes to her bedroom. I am here with my babies, the reason why I am alive, my whole world revolves around them, I don’t want to disappoint them, I don’t want them to suffer for their father’s mistakes. I am scared I might loose my family, my happiness because of TRM and Ben. God please help me, give me strength to walk this rough path. I need wisdom to work on this. But God Why? Why me? I am not ready to be a single mother because I am not as that strong, my children and my husband can’t be separated. Why me God?

Anyway, We are done with dinner, I clear the table and take my kids to bed. As usual Darren sleeps in my bed before I carry him to his bedroom. This is my Boy!

I go to the balcony  to have a talk with the stars and the moon, I have so many questions. Should I call his mother? No way, she will take his side. My husband happens to be the last born and just like Darren, he is his Mama’s boy. I wont risk.  This is my marriage, I have to solve this, but still I need to talk to someone.

I rush to the girls whatsapp group called “My Mother’s Girls”. I type…

“Hey girls, are you asleep?”

Marble: Hey girl, what’s up? You good?

Me: “Yep, just something is eating my head up”

Rose: “Hey girl, you have been silent the whole day kwani umezaa? Hehehe”.

Me: “Idiot, nimezaa maembe?”

Clare: “Ladies I feel like going out! Baba Prince is in Naivasha na he is not coming back, I am bored like shit”

Marble: “Wee kwani hauna malazi? My fren lalisha haga”

Me: “Hahahaha Marble thank you….. but I think Clare is right, where is Jacqiy our designated chauffeur?  Trust me I don’t want to drive right now, I want to drink and dance”

Rose: “Eeeeih Mrs. Benito come slowly, are you still pregnant?”

Me: “Sharaaaaap woman, just come pick me, nipate kwa gate”

Marble: “ I was with Jacqiy in church and she said she was to fly to Mombasa because hubby is already there, so I am not sure she is around”

Me: “Waaaa, ebu tell her to come online”

Clare: “Yaaaaaaaaaay let me shower asap, see you girls. I hope we are going to Laico”

Me: “Burrofcos”

Marble: Hehehee enyewe mumeboeka, sorry girls I won’t make it, Bae is around.

Rose: “Okay Doreen, in a few, Marble you are joking, see you”

Jacqiy: “Basie kuyoka kwa si?” (What is the noise for?)

Me: “Hey bestie, we are going out and you can’t say no because you are in the country. See you there, Laico Regency. Keep time.

Jacqiy: “Waaa baby girl, I am in bed, already in my PJ’s”

Me: “Do we look like we care? Woman, see you at Laico, hiyo ingine ni yako”

Jacqiy and Marble insist that they wont come, but I burst the bubble

“Ladies, Ben is having an affair, and maybe, just maybe, he has a son with this bitch”

Jacqiy: “What? Baby are you okay? Leaving the house in a few, see you baby girl”

Rose: “Oooh Noo! Not Ben! Girl you need a drink, a strong one”

Clare: “What the Eff? Are you serious? How did you find out?”

Me: “His phone”

Marble: “Now this is serious, I am coming, hata sitaoga, wacha tu nicome”

Rose: “Girls, let’s not go to Laico tonight, lets go to Dee’s house, she needs us”

They all agree to come over. These girls are like my sisters, we laugh and cry together. When I met my husband they interviewed him, funny right? Yes, they asked him so many questions and gave him warnings not to hurt me because I am their last born, they call me “Baby of the Group” I love them so much.

Rose came in first because she stays near. I am at the balcony still, crying my heart out with a glass of wine and a packet of serviettes. She walks in and starts to look for me, “I am here, kwa balcony yangu”.

She sees me, hugs me tight, by now I am literally sobbing, my eyes are red, mucus coming out, I let out a big cry as she tries to cover my mouth with her hand, “Babes the kids’ bedrooms are just here, sorry girl”. I walk to the other side of the balcony. Rose is watching me as tears roll down her cheeks too. This one helps in crying. Instead of her being strong for you, pia analia.

My three girls walk in together, Rose texts them that we are upstairs. They all hug me while asking so many questions at ago.

“He cheated on me, and maybe he is with her right now. See, it’s 10PM and son of a woman is not here yet. See, she is in his arms right now, I hate him, so much”

“Noo, don’t say that dear, maybe he is out with friends”.

“Did you ask him about this?

“No, why would I? I will only feel stupid in his eyes and of course he will deny, you know men”.

“No no no you should have asked him” insists Marble.

“True baby” Jacqiy adds.

“I am tired, I am really tired, I WANT OUT!”

“Mmmh Nooooo we ain’t going there, no you are not” says clare.

The girls discourage me from moving out. “Are you people even my friends? Nkt! I am leaving!”

From the Balcony we can see his car comes in the gate, Ben parks his car but doesn’t come out, maybe because he can see my friend’s vehicles and he knows Kamati are ready to eat his sorry ass. 30 minutes are gone but boychild ain’t coming out of his damn car.

Marble, who keeps defending him goes to the car, they have a chat then boom! Mr. Man is out, drunk! We are all at the sitting room waiting as though he was a locust awaited by the government. He says hi and asks to speak to me, in private!

“No, if you want to speak to me do it right here”

“Babe please”

“Again, don’t babe me, I am not Madam TRM, the Newest bride in town, madam boss herself! The best thing that ever happened to you, Mrs. World Kenya, the only “sweet” woman that has ever ‘gone down’ on you, because maybe your pathetic black wife here only does missionary!” I am tossing my glass of wine as I walk around my sitting roon throwing words at Ben. “I hope while dickmatizing her, you use protection because I am not ready to die of HIV. Trust me that woman is not screwing only you, she looks like a hoe who just wants financial support from already established men, and baby boy, you are just one of them”

The shock on my hubby’s face!!!! Wueh! Guilty as charged! Boy is confused, his eyes turn around like a lizard, his hand that was almost holding mine starts to shake, his lips tremble in fear. I can see my husband reduced to a 5 year old boy, he can’t even look me in the eyes and say it’s not true. He wishes he never came home, in front of my besties, what a shame!!

“If you don’t tell me who that bitch is, boy, I gat your balls in my hand and I’m gonna squeeze them right now”

Rose: “Ladies, can we go to the kitchen please, I need coffee”

Jacqiy : “Yep, I am not ready to see balls being squeezed”

Marble and Clare too agree, and they leave for the kitchen.

“Dee don’t kill him ooh!” shouts Marble. I have a bunch of idiots for friends right?

“Now, can you talk?”

Hubby: “In our bedroom”

He leaves, I follow him. My mind is racing, should I just pack and leave this idiot of a man or what?

We are in the bedroom.

“Babe I can explain”

“Explain what? Ben”

“That girl is not what you think she is”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“She is not my girlfriend”

“Oh, she graduated to be your Baby Mama, donge?”

“The hell”

“Ooh right, there will be hell in this room if you don’t explain your damn ass, Ben don’t waste my time baby boy, I need a drink.

Talk!”

“Babe, it is not what you think, she is just a friend”

“There we go again, bla bla bla! Don’t give that BS, just tell me, I am ready to hear everything, or you want me to wake your kids up to see the kind of bullshit their father has become? Oh Yeah I can bring them uwaambie venye wewe ni jogoo, unawika nyumbani, unawika nje”

“Don’t you include my children in this…… that girl is just a friend, and No, her child is not mine.”

By now I am boiling, what the hell! This man thinks I was born yesterday or what? What kind of nonsense is this? I am not doing this.

“Look Ben, I won’t waste your time here, let’s talk when you are ready”.  I leave

Opening my bedroom door, I hear people running downstairs, okay, wait! Where did I meet these cartoons and became their friend? I also don’t know! So they had been listening to our conversations? What if my hubby made me “weak” they could have heard us “doing it?” Lol!

Reaching the kitchen, Clare, as usual eating an apple. Starts with the question.

“Tell us, what did he say”

“Why are you asking and you heard everything?”

“Aaaih who? We were here in the kitchen, hata hatujaskia anything” they say in unison.

Marble: “Why didn’t you listen to him, at least he said she is just a friend, daaah!”

“How did you know he said that?”

Marble: “I guessed, that’s what every man says, right girls”

“Yeeaah” they agreed.

Rose: “That man needs some beating, lakini hata wewe, unataka kuamsha watoto juu ya?”

“Again, how did you know that? Nkt! Nitawafukuza muende kwenu”

“Oohhn Nooo unleash the tea girl, we are listening” Jacqiy reiterated.

I explained to them even though I knew they had heard everything.

We talked about life our children, our ups and downs in our marriages, businesses, school, chamas, finances etc, how to deal with the Makodofias in our husband’s lives etc. Then boom! Ben comes in the kitchen to get his beer from the fridge.

Marble: “But Ben you are a good man, why did you do it? You even have a kid with him?”

Hubby: “ I don’t have child with any other woman other than my wife, but she doesn’t want to listen to me, what should I do?”

Me: “Fuck you”

Hubby: “You see the way she talks to me? In front of you ladies?”

Me: “Damn you! I don’t care. The moment you undressed in front of another woman, I have no respect for you buddy.”

Hubby: “Okay, can I call her right now so you believe me?”

Women, when a man dares you with this, he always know that you will refuse to call his bitch. So, my sister, play to his tune, say Yes!

Me: “Yes!”

Hubby: “What?”

Me: “Your words, not mine, call your baby mama right now.”

Hubby: “Babe are you sure? It’s late. And she is not my baby mama”

Girls: “Yes, call her”

Father to my children could not escape this, I had cornered him already. He is taking time though, so I do the necessary, I pick his phone which was at the dining, charging and dial her number, “Calling TRM”. I put the call on Loud Speaker, the girls are alert, the adrenaline? The headache? My hands are sweating, My stomach is rumbling, I think I need to use the washroom but no, I can do number 2 right here right now, this is my house, I will clean the mess, Dah! Hubby is pretending to be okay but I know deep down he is shaking like a leaf. Pressure ikanipanda aki, call goes unanswered. Daaaaamn!!!

Clare insists that we call again, hubby is reluctant and says, “I told you that is someone’s wife and they are asleep, mnawasumbua tu”.

I give him that sharp look, I dial the number again…….

She picks the call!

Doreen Shikuku

It is on a Sunday afternoon at a round 3:32 PM, I am in house lazing around, walking from room to room just to make sure everything is in place, preparing the uniforms and arranging my God Ordained Matrimonial Bedroom. My son Darren, 4 years, is on the balcony with his dad, My Beloved Husband, the man that God kept for me, enjoying the view. My daughter Delance, 7 years,  is in the kitchen with our Domestic Manager Myra making some lemon pancakes and 4 ’O’clock tea. That’s what I am craving because mmmmhhh……. Oh yeah, you guessed right, I am pregnant, 3 months…. Hey, don’t give me that look, I do what made me leave my father’s house.

Tea is served.

Me: “Honey, tea is ready.”

Hubby: “Okay babe, coming…..”

Me: “Dela, get me some ginger from the kitchen please….”

Dela goes to the kitchen and brings me my favourite Tropical Heat  Ginger….. Darren on his dad’s laps, driving his favourite toy car as his father sips some hot masala tea. I remember that I left my bedroom’s lights on so I walk upstairs, get in my bedroom and switch off the lights. I realize there is a phone vibrating from my coffee table (I sometimes eat from my bedroom so I have a very beautiful coffee table, a gift from my mother-in-law on our wedding day). Kuna kale kashetani kanakuambianga “Shika hiyo simu” but your mother warned you about hubby’s phone. But this Kashetani wins in most cases. I take the phone, “TRM Calling”… What? Who is this TRM?  Thika Road Mall, Two Rivers Mall? Tuna Rarua Mali? ….or what? Any who, I decide to pick.

Me: (Silent on phone)

TRM: “Hello, babe mbona hushiki simu zangu tangu juzi?”

Ati Babe? Is this a wrong number? I keep my cool, but the devil in me is awake… I am Shocked! My Blood Pressure shoots…

TRM: Now you are quiet huh? I don’t like the way you are treating me Ben, it’s not fair, you promised to send money for tuition and you don’t pick calls, when you pick hauongei, I don’t like it ooh!

Shaking, sweating, almost bursting in flames, I hang up, sit on my bed, tears rolling down my cheeks, wondering what was happening to me. So many things going through my mind, but I have to stay sober. Every woman knows that once you see this kinda red light, you need more evidence, and they will agree with me that we go though messages, whatsapp, Facebook, LinkedIn, Instagram etc.. This needs not more than 5 minutes, that’s if you are a real African woman. You know what I mean? Anyway, I get the evidence from whatsapp chats, but men really need that conference happening on February 14. I mean, how do you keep messages of how you had a good time in her bed? Ouch!

The thought of another woman being grinded the way I am grinded by the same bull breaks me, completely! My Man is My Man, he can’t be holding another woman. I am hurt!

Anyway, I am through, of-cause I get the number saved on my phone then I delete it from the received call-log on his phone.

Dela comes in my bedroom…

Dela: “Mommy, Daddy says you should come down.”

Me: “Which Daddy?”

Dela: (Shocked) “Moooom!”

Me: “Uh! Sorry baby, I am right behind you.”

Hubby: “Honey your tea is getting cold, are you okay?”

In my mind I am asking myself “Is this the man I married? Is he just asking if I am okay? How am I supposed to be okay when TRM is in the picture? Is this man for real?”

Me: “I am fine. I lost my appetite. Tea? No thank you. Myra get me some ice cream from the freezer.”

My DM brings ice cream, of course Darren must enjoy it with me. I hold my son, he happens to be his father’s exact replica, I look straight into his eyes and say “Mahn! You have failed me today”. My son looks at me in shock and says “Me?, Mommy I just want a little ice cream, I don’t want too much because I will get sick”. I remember I was directing my anger to a small version Ben. “I am sorry baby,  I was day dreaming, did you finish your homework? Tomorrow is school day” “I did, Daddy helped me with colouring.”  “Oh, okay, I see, perfect! You have a good Father”…. by this time Hubby is looking at me, I guess he knows me so much, 8 years of being married, he knows when something is not right.

Hubby: “Honey we need to talk, in our bedroom, please.”

“About what”

“In the bedroom please, Myra, come pick the kids and take them out, find something to do, ride bikes or whatever…”

“Ben….”

“What did you just call me?”

“Isn’t  that your name”

“Let’s not do this babe, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing”

“I know you honey, 10 years of knowing you, you are not okay, would you please talk”

“I said I am fine”

“Look, we need to  solve this right now or else…”

“Or else what???”

“Babe”

“Ooh please, jut leave me alone.”

I walk away from my husband, something I have not done for years, straight in my bedroom as he follows me.

Tears starts dropping, I can’t hold it any more, he hugs me and apologizes for whatever he had done to hurt me, he knows my weakness, his masculine hands works magic on me, I am almost calming down but I am totally confused. He kisses me on my neck as he whispers sweet nothings, again I am weak, he says how I am his whole world, how the kids and me are all he has and he is not ready to watch his family break. Women, you can feel me, right? I am almost responding with kisses, I am weak, this fool knows my weakness and he is taking advantage, but my mind bounces back…..

“Don’t touch me Ben, don’t you ever, eeevvveeerrr touch me again”

“Babe”

“Don’t call me that shit, I need to take a nap, I am tired, now, you either walk your sorry ass out of my bedroom or I do”

“I am not going anywhere”

“Ooh Yeah….. okay…… fine….. I will”

“Oookay okay okay okay fine, I will leave, but…”

“But nothing, just leave”

Mr. Man picks his car keys and his damn-ugly phone and leaves, I lock the door from inside. I am shattered, what is happening to my marriage? Is this the man that I married through a church wedding? So it’s true, Marriage is a big scam? What about my children, will they be affected by this? Ooh God I don’t want my children to grow up without their father, Dela is her daddy’s girl, she is so connected to her father. Again I am pregnant! Ben is a great father, but what about me, his wife? I am confused.  I am scared, really scared. But he cheated on me? Why? What had I not done for him? I had played my wifely duties, I had given him adorable kids, I had watched him transform from a hustler to who he is right now. Is it my fault? Just what does “TRM” have that I don’t? A nice figure? But I am like this because I bore him children, and another one is on the way….. Oh God I need to fix this, but I have to teach him a lesson, bure atanizoea.

As usual I have to inform the Kamati. But no, I am not going to call my mentor Norich Shitubi, I know what she will say “Ma’am please be calm, pray, pray, pray and make him want you more that he needs her, make your home comfortable for him bla bla bla” Oooh no, I am not going to pray for anyone’s son, I have my own children to pray for. Kila mtu aombewe na mama yake.

Can I call Martha, this one is crazy, she will ask me to go out and have a drink, I am pregnant for Christ’s sake. No I won’t call her.

I call my mum,

“Mum sasa”

“Poa sana, habari ya wajukuu na mzee”

“Wako poa, nataka kukuambia kitu”

“Kuna shida? Niambie Mum”

“Mum Ben is cheating on me”

“What? How did you know?”

“Really Mum? I just found out”

I don’t want to tell her that I went through his phone because she had warned me.

“How did you find out your husband was having an affair?”

“She called him and I picked”

“You see, you were looking for trouble, and you found trouble”

“Hata hunisaidii Mami, will call you later, bye”

I hang up.

What should I do now? Should I call this b*ich and let her know that I know about her escapades with the father of my children? Hell No. That will be lowering myself to her level. Because I have saved her number as “Makodofia”, probably I could see her whatsapp photo, just to see who my husband is screwing. I go straight to whatsapp, she has a kid as a profile picture. From far I can see what I thought I will never see in my life. I guess I need spectacles and a glass of wine. I walk to the bar, no wine. I open the bedroom door, go straight to the kitchen, take my Baileys Irish Cream and go back to my bedroom. Put my glasses on, I put up some music, I select “Rolling in the deep” by Adele, a song for the broken hearts.

The lyrics,

The scars of your love remind me of us
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all
The scars of your love they leave me breathless, I can’t help feeling
We could have had it all (you’re gonna wish you never had met me)
Rolling in the deep (tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
You had my heart inside of your hand (you’re gonna wish you never had met me)
And you played it to the beat (tears…

I then go straight to TRM’s whatsapp profile photo.

I zoom in the image, I see a boy who kinda looks like my own son. These idiots have a son together? Damn you Ben, damn you Makodofia.

I sip my Baileys but this time round it tastes like urine. But still I gulp the whole bottle, to the last drop!

I am doomed!!

Doreen Shikuku

It was already dark when we woke up. Joe got up and put on his boxers. He tossed me a black t-shirt,

”Can i fix you coffee?”

”I will appreciate.”

He went to the kitchen, i could see his back as i lay on his bed. He made two mugs of coffee and added tots of whisky in each. He handed me my coffee and the remote.

”Let me fix something to eat real quick.”

”I will brush my teeth real quick too.”

He raised his brow, i shrugged and took out my toothbrush and disappeared into his bathroom. When i came back, he looked at me and quickly set his mug down. He walked to me like he was seeing something unbelievable, a smudge of toothpaste was on the t-shirt, i had not even noticed.

”What the fuck Diana!”

”What did i do?”

”You just spoilt my tee.”

”What?”

I looked at the smudge,

”This is just toothpaste, i will clean it.”

”This is not just any t-shirt, this is Versace, do you know how much it cost me?”

”You gave it to me, you should have considered the price.”

He grit his teeth and curled up his fists.

”It is just a t-shirt, why are you so worked up?”

”Didn’t you hear what i just said?”

He was really mad and i just didn’t understand why.

”Joe, i think you are overreacting.”

”I am overreacting?”

He picked a glass that was on the TV stand and smashed it against the wall. I was visibly shaken, i did not expect this from him. I took off the t-shirt and shoved it into my bag. I reached for my bra and dress and started dressing up.

”You know what Joe, I am sorry i ruined your expensive t-shirt, i will order a new one for you first thing in the morning.”

”What are you doing?”

”Dressing up because i am going home.”

”Babe no, I did not mean to shout at you.”

”You are upset, I think it is best if i leave.”

He took a deep breath and walked over to me. He took my hands into his and looked me in the eye,

”I had a nasty argument with my dad and i am sorry for taking it out on you.”

”Joe, i……”

”I know, i feel terrible about this. Babe please forgive me.”

”Sorry i ruined your t-shirt.”

”It’s just a t-shirt. Have you forgiven me?”

”Yeah, there is really nothing to forgive.”

He bent down and kissed me,

”I am going to cook, i will be back shortly. I love you.”

That night, i should have picked out his trait. Joe had anger issues. The signs were there but i chose to ignore them. I could have walked out but i did not. Why do people stay in abusive relationships?

”So your folks, where are they staying?”

”In Syokimau with my brother.”

”Oh nice. They will have Jake for a week?”

”Yeah, a whole week.”

”You can stay here for that week.”

”I won’t be too much in your space?”

”Come on, i love having you around.”

”I will have to go see them tomorrow though.”

He was silent for a minute.

”Are you sure you are not mad at me?”

I turned to him and kissed him.

”No, i am not, i can’t be mad at you for long.”

He leaned in for another kiss, this time he did not stop. We made love on his couch. We drank more coffee with whisky and made love again and again until we blacked out.

When i woke up, it was already 7. I had a terrible hangover and a throbbing headache. I was going to be late for my meeting. I sent my boss a text and told him i was going to be late. I just really wanted to go back to sleep but i could not miss this particular meeting.

Several mugs of coffee and lemon water later, Joe drove me to the office. There was no traffic and in half an hour, i was in the office.

”Diana, you look terrible.”

”Sir, I don’t feel too good, I think i am going down with malaria.”

”You could have said so in the morning, You should go to the hospital.”

”Okay.”

I took the day off and went to my brothers’ house and slept the day away.

In the evening Joe came to pick me. There was too much traffic on Mombasa road.

”Maybe for today we can eat out.”

”Okay.”

”We can go to South C and have some really nice biryani, i know a place.”

”Sure.”

He turned to look at me,

”Whats’ with the one word answers?”

”What?”

”You are responding to me with one word, Diana are you upset about something?”

”No i am not. Are you trying to pick another fight?”

”Wow! So you are still mad about yesterday.”

”Joe, i am not mad about yesterday, can we move on already?”

”Fine.”

The rest of the drive to the swahili dishes in South C was silent, almost too silent. Even his stereo was off.

I had been single for too long, i had forgotten what relationships look like. Was i really ready for one?

”I don’t like fighting with you Joe.”

”Me neither.”

”Can we make a deal that we will not fight anymore?”

”Deal, my queen.”

After dinner, he got me flowers, chocolates, a bottle of wine and an apology card. Maybe we still had a chance if i overlooked the small things.

Diana Mosoba

What if?

What if you woke up one day and you are gone to the LAND OF NO RETURN?

How will people mourn your demise?

It’s probably a chilly morning when everybody is busy, save for the lazy lot that are still fighting with their alarms, or those on their Annual Leave, or maybe on their Honey Moon, my step-mum is heading to the village to work on the farm, most of my friends here in Nairobi are heading to work, others are going back home after a night shift, then Boom! I gasp my last breathe. News spreads on social Media, “Doreen is No More”.

I will be strategically watching each and every person that I have interacted with while still alive, those we have crossed paths will also me watched, because I wouldn’t want to go to hell because I was holding grudges with people.

My Step Mum back in the village will not see the news of her daughter’s demise on social media because she is only on whatsapp and she checks her whatsapp status after weeks. This happens when I update crazy things probably to do with sex and all that, this is the time she views, damn me! Her phone will ring, she checks…. Baby Sharon calling…… that’s how she has saved my baby sister. She starts lamenting “Mimi sina pesa huyu mtoto anataka kunisumbua sahi” she picks….

Sharon: “Hello Mum..”

Mum: “Hello Sharon, habari ya Nairobi?”

Sharon: (Really trying to control herself) “Poa, but uko na nani hapo?”

Mum: “Niko na baba yako Khaemba, tuna panda njugu”

Sharon: (Almost loosing it, clearing her nose and throat) “Mum, kuna kitu nataka kukushow, please take heart.”

Mum: “Take heart for what? What is wrong? Is everything okay?”

Sharon: “Mum Dee ametuacha.”

Mum: “Dee mgani? Ati? Will you please elaborate? What are you saying?”

Sharon: (She can’t hold it any more, starts to wail) “Mum, Doreen ametuacha, she is no more.”

Mu: “What??????????”

Mum Literally falls in the shamba, my uncle Khaemba not knowing what is happening, he runs and picks the call and asks my sister who was still on phone but wailing. My sister breaks the news to him as well. Ooh Uncle! His world is shattered! Literally!

The whole village is notified. Even though I rarely go to village, I am known, sign! Maybe because I have been on their TV screens and on radio, or maybe because of the way I interact with them when I am home.

Oh My! The village is at a stand still, “What happened to Doreen? She was such a jovial girl. Her late father and mother have not even rested well, their daughter has followed them as well. What is life?” they will ask.

My Sister Brenda, the one we call Simakulu, if she had killed my mother during her birth, then I wouldn’t have been born. We were only two from our mother’s womb, you can imagine what this girl is going through after hearing of my demise. I love you Big Sis, Strong Manze, Strong!

On the other hand, my friends! Oh My friends! My Oh My! My spirit will lead me to facebook, read post after post, “RIP Doreen”, others who never even commented on my posts will write paragraphs on my timeline. Others will be too lazy to write and end up with “RIP”. Others who are not my friends will click on my name and go through my timeline like their lives depend on it. They will check if I had shown any sign of leaving this world. They will pity my child for being left and wonder who will take up the role of raising her. They will leave their condolences messages there!

My close friends will not even have time and energy to write anything on my Timeline. I can imagine Jacqyi Bwayo, you know those friends who can wail, just once then pose, think, then give another big wail, that’s her. I call her my sister. Another one is Clare, this one doesn’t know how to control herself, mbele tu ya watu. She will do what we call ‘Khukwa kiminyikha’ in Bukusu, meaning, falling aimlessly. Marble, Oh Marble! I have no words baby girl. I can only imagine your sad face. Tears rolling down your face. No one to hold your hand because here, God is for you all, everybody for themselves. Rose, my chubby girl. This one cries even in joy. Rose is that girl who can laugh while tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. Imagine what happens when she cries in sadness? My dear Rose, you will be heartbroken, asking God why? How? Putting your hands on your head as you wail around your specious home in the leafy suburbs of Karen. You will call my name but I will be gone. I will be dead! Sorry girls.

Pamela Muthami, it is rare to see this one shedding tears. Is she a hardcore? Maybe, just maybe. First of all she will make several calls to reach my child, she will then ask her husband, Ceph to go and pick my baby to her house. She will then liaise with Respah, Ruth, Diana and Pam Chila, meet up in one of their houses, walie hadi wapoe. But I will be gone ladies. So sad!

Diana Makokha will be at work, she does a morning show on a Sulwe FM. Girl you won’t concentrate, you will forget the rules of radio. You will keep playing music, jingles and adverts  just to avoid wailing while ON AIR. You will play worship songs as tears roll down your slightly red cheeks. You will speak little, just to let your Boss S. K. Macharia know that you are not asleep while at work. You will probably run to Citizen studios to let Jeridah know of my demise. Jeridah is a drama-queen, a big one. This one won’t hold it! Sorry girls, I will be gone to be with our maker.

Nekesa, the girl who fights with my child but best of friends. How she interacts with her is out of this world. You would think they are age-mates. She will be confused, wondering how her friend left without a goodbye. She will cry, throwing herself up and down until her boss gets her an uber to just go home…. Poor girl, you won’t come to Thika Road any more, to see who? Doreen is gone, Forever! She will liaise with Tinah who will be in Bungoma, with red eyes, heading to Kimilili to my home, just to be with my step mum. Poor girl will cover her head with her hands, imagining of the years we have been friends, more that 10 years. Right baby girl? Yeah….. I am sorry dear, it is God’s work.

Morning will be long, nothing moving in my beloved lives. All of them will stare at each other wondering what to do next. They will ask questions that can only be answered by me, but I am not here, I can’t speak or even give a sign. I am gone, forever!

My employer, Hi Sir! My colleagues, they are used to a smiley-melanin woman who laughs with those who love her. They can’t imagine they wont see me again. No one to make noise and run around especially during lunch hours (Food is my husband). They will miss my stories. They will miss someone to tease, Oh my second family. It was not my choice, but nature’s! Please Forgive me!

Plans are made here and there and burial day is here.

My Child, My only Treasure, Jewel of the Nile, My Painkiller, My Moderator, My Listener, My headache, My BBI, Viva! Ooh Baby it is a sad day, maybe you are aware of what death means, maybe not. Most of my friends are crying because of you, not me, they can’t imagine how you are going to adjust in this cruel world without me, your Mama. Who will play with you when you come back from school? Only mama knows how to make you eat well and do your homework on time? I will miss such moments baby. Who will hold you tight at night when you have nightmares? Who will look straight into your small eyes and tell you “I Love you Nafula, my Mother”? Who??? As they say, uchungu wa mwana aujuaye ni mzazi…. Baby girl, even me I am not okay thinking of how this world is so full of bad things. You need my protection honey, but my hands are tied. I am a spirit right now. As you look at everyone around you, they are all crying and showing you sad faces, as always, you start crying “I want my mum”. From the gate, you can spot your paternal uncle, Moses (Bless you) he comes straight to where you are, picks you up and leaves. You start asking him “Uncle umeniletea nini?’ Confused, he replies “Tamu mingi sana” He takes you to his car, tries to play with you just to distract you. He gives you a bar of chocolate. You floss from the car window to people staring at you. Some will even break down, some will want to pick you but you will refuse to leave your uncle. Some will try and have a chit chat with you but you will look at them and wonder why is everyone giving you too much attention. Then you will remember how you have not been with your mama. She has been lying in a box from days, why is she not waking up, you even keep few peaces of chocolates for her saying, “Hii ni ya Mum”.

Dressed in a black ballerina dress, my daughter walks from her uncle’s car to go look for my sisters, Sharon and Brenda. She finds them in the house, sitting next to my coffin, crying. She walks straight to Brenda and ask “Aunty Brenda nani amekuchapa?” By now Brenda is loosing it. She screams out loud and makes you wonder what is happening. You start to scream as well as you walk to where I am lying. You touch my soft face, try to open my eyes the way you do after a Sundays afternoon nap, “Mum huamki? Nakuwacha Mum, ona, bye…. bye Mum” you then realize that I am not reacting to your trick. You walk back and tap on my chest, no reaction, you raise your head to look at everyone around. Why are they all awake, surrounding my Mum with tears rolling down their cheeks and she is not awake? What is wrong with her? Is she sick? Your uncle Shaddy picks you up and leaves. My Child, I am sorry but it was my time to leave. I will miss you the same way you gonna miss me. I love you!

Friends and family walk in, one by one, others in groups, my aunties wailing as they run around the house. You see, in my motherland, this is the real mourning, not wiping tears with a white handkerchief as you wear back your shades. Here we scream, run around the compound. Go near the kitchen, wipe your tears as you slow down the wailing and check if there is tea. If there is tea, increase the volume so that you might be served in a big cup called Lisubila. If there isn’t, my sister, wipe your tears, walk to the coffin tent, view the body, say a word of prayer and proceed to the tent.

The program is going on, my friends are given time to give their speeches, some will not manage to finish because hey yoh, I have a bunch of cry babies as friends, but I love them all. I will be watching them, saying how they met me and all that. I will want to hug them but I can’t. I will give a miss, being a spirit if F*ck, right? My grandma will try speaking Kiswahili but she will unknowingly get back to Bukusu. My old lady will wonder why God did not take her instead. She will praise me, she will even lie that I picked all her calls during end month when her back and knees ache most, LOL!

My Siblings, apart from those who have being raised in our home, the ones people know. My Daddy is an African Man abeg! Daddy played away matches. We are a number…… They will all speak, I love my father’s kids, my blood!

As Mum’s Church members escort her to the stage to give her last respect, she breaks down, she remembers how she has taken care of me ever since my Mother rested. Even though I gave  her headache with some boy from Kamusinga, she admits to still love me as her own. She is held by Mama Kanisa while the Deacons’ wife wipes her cheeks with a white handkerchief. Her sisters will keep telling her “It is well Martha, take heart” but I will be gone. Leaving her with another burden of raising my daughter. As a widow, It is going to be tough. But I will be there to watch over you Mommy. It is well, please take good care of my baby.

After the Church Service, as some of the villagers fight for food in the kitchen, mothers serving for their children and  husbands, my boda-boda friends cursing the store man for not giving them Soda…..

I am being escorted to the grave, my last home….

As you walk down slowly, singing “Chakutumaini Sina”, it’s a sombre mood.

As my baby is carried by my sister, everyone is looking at her. She gives them that priceless smile, she has no idea that she will never see me again.

She later realizes that I am being surrounded by people, near a hole, My Last Home!

After short prayer, I am slowly descended in a grave, my child screams out loud which leaves my friends with no choice but to break down. She wonders why Mama is put in a whole.

It is sad, I know, but what to do! I have to be laid to rest. Forever!

I can hear kuduu kuduu on my coffin, ooh God they are really burying me. I will never be above the soil, never to see my child. Never to laugh with my buddies. Never to eat chicken in my Mum’s kitchen during December Holidays. Wee wacheni jokes!

I am gone, Forever!

But my spirit is still hovering around. People are served food, Nairobians enter their cars and leave for the nearby club just to refresh as they prepare to travel the next day because they were only given one day leave. So they are needed at the office on Monday after Saturday burial. I love you my people! Thank you for giving me such a beautiful SEND OFF!

TELL MY DAUGHTER THAT I LOVE HER, SO MUCH, AND I AM HERE, ALWAYS WATCHING OVER HER!

Doreen Shikuku

That week went on by quickly, i had back to back meetings with company guests from India. I only managed to see Joe briefly over lunch hour. That Friday however, my boss traveled and so our meetings were adjourned to the following week. I wanted to send a text to Joe but realized we had not exchanged numbers. I rolled my eyes, kicked off my heels and walked out through the back door. I wasn’t very sure of which garage i could find him but i had to find him. I needed to see him and maybe hug him, you know.

I walked around aimlessly and was almost giving up when i saw him leaning against some car. He dropped his spanner and half ran to me,  he hesitated for a minute and took a step back,

”I thought you missed me?”

”I did, and i want to hold you right now but..”

”But?”

”I am covered in oil.”

”My schedule just opened up.”

”Meaning?”

”I don’t have those hectic meetings till next week.”

”Really?”

His face beamed up and i could see ideas literally floating in his mind.

”Do you know what this means?”

”What does this mean?”

”We have the day to ourselves, let me go change out of this overall.”

I looked at his excited face, he looked so handsome, my head had it’s own ideas, alright.

”Let me go grab my coat and bag.”

”I will pick you up in five minutes, don’t keep me waiting, Diana.”

I smiled and walked back to my office. I quickly switched off my desktop and left through the backdoor. I had a feeling this was going to be a good day.

Joe was waiting for me outside, he got out of his car and opened the door for me and closed after i had settled in.

”Where do you have in mind?”

”I don’t, just anywhere, as long as you are there, Joe.”

He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. There was no traffic and soon we were along Kiambu road,

”So, i was thinking of cooking for you.”

”You cook?”

”Yes, and i am good at it.”

”Oh that is nice, do you love cooking? Most women do.”

”I am not most women.”

he turned to look at me, i don’t know if he was disappointed or not, he smiled and held my hand with his free hand.

”You are not most women, you are special. So what do you want to eat? My queen?”

My queen sounded just about right.

”I will eat whatever you cook, king.”

He smiled, that unnerving smile of his. He parked in front of a small grocery shop in Ruaka.

”I am going to pick a few things, do you want to come with?”

”No, i will just wait for you here.”

”I want you to meet my mama mboga.”

”Joe come on.”

”Please.”

He looked at me with those beautiful eyes of his, how could i say no?

I got out and followed him to the end of the building where a small kibanda was.

”Mathe, habari ya leo?”

”Joe, leo umetoka kazi mapema.”

”Hakuna kazi mingi leo, huyu ni Diana, rafiki yangu.”

She turned to me and stared me down. She wiped her wet hands on her leso before stretching her hand in a very firm handshake.

”Huyu ni kijana wangu na ni mzuri sana. Yeye hununua hapa mboga kila siku.”

You know those situations you find yourself in that you cannot get out of? Here was that. I just smiled and nodded as she talked and talked. Finally, she packed for us fried fish and spinach.

A few minutes drive, he stopped at his apartment and led me out. They had an elevator, no stairs. Fancy, huh!

His studio apartment is how i expected his house to be, simply neat and beautiful. He had pegged on a rustic interior design mixed with modern pieces.

A big TV screen was mounted on one wall, a rustic stand just beneath it, with the DSTV decoder and woofer. He had reclining black seats and a small wooden stamp, rough on the eyes but smooth to the touch. A few hangings on the wall and a flower on one side. The curtain a mixture of grey and yellow. The house was beautiful.

”Welcome home.”

”Your house is beautiful.”

”I am humbled, make yourself comfortable.”

I kicked off my shoes and stepped on the rugged carpet,

”Can i offer you anything to drink?”

”Maybe a glass of water, thank you.”

He took off his coat and jeans and headed to the kitchen.

For someone who has poor eating habits, i could not risk drinking anything before eating, not especially if he was cooking. He switched on the TV for me, i flipped through Netflix looking for nothing in particular. After half an hour, he brought the food, ugali, fish and veges.

Let me tell you, the man can cook.

I took the plates to the kitchen and when i came back, he had started a series, Power. If you have not watched power, you need to Ghost is something else especially when he is making out with his clande.

He moved closer to me, i rested my head on his chest and curled up to him. He slipped his hand into my blouse, his long fingers stroked my arm gently, then they moved further in. He reached for my bra and slipped his fingers into my anticipating apples. There is that feeling of getting something that you have been wanting, yes, that magical feeling, he fondled me, i was aroused, i was in need. He turned, and started unbuttoning my blouse, taking his time, taking in the unfolding sight before him, where his eyes landed, his mouth feasted. He had me at his mercy. One by one, my pieces of clothes were thrown on the floor, piece by piece my body surrendered to him. He touched me here, kissed me there, it was all in his eyes, there was that burning desire. He opened the books of my womanhood and fed from the springs of life. Joe took me to the gates of heaven and opened the pearls for me, i was floating on velvet and silk and feathers. My wells erupted like volcanoes and he was there to fetch the waters into his thirsting mouth. I was beyond the mountains of ecstasy, this was a point of no return. I begged him, to stop not, i want the whole of him, i wanted to feel him, i wanted it all. As though responding to my need, he moved back and peeled of rubber and in a slow motion, he filled my cup and the minutes that followed can not be explained. I was lost in pleasure, beautiful pleasure. We both reached the peak of the mountain and collapsed in a heap, covered by our sweat. It took me more than a minute to catch my breath.

”Diana, that was something else.”

”Tell me about it.”

He got up and kissed me on the forehead,

”We have the whole day to talk about it, my queen.”

That day, as he drove me back home in the evening, i knew he was going to be apart of my life for a long time.

”Maybe i can have your number?”

”Oh yes, i have been meaning to ask you but i wasn’t sure.”

”Joe, i practically eat lunch from your hands, how can i not give you my number?”

”Diana, you don’t understand the effect you have on me.”

”The effect is mutual, king?”

He smiled and continued driving.

This was going to be one beautiful beginning.

Diana Mosoba

Do you know that feeling of wanting to talk to someone before going to bed? Yes, that one. I had that feeling, I wanted to talk to Joe, I even took out my phone but guess what, we had not exchanged numbers. I shrugged and went to sleep. Buried my thoughts in debris of fantasies as I drifted away into sleep.
The following day, my colleagues offered to buy me lunch, in an esteemed eatery down the road. I had no idea this place existed. I call it esteemed because here, the wooden tables had table clothes, not actual table clothes but white canvas or is it plastic with bright flowers. Salt was in small salt shakers and not coffee containers. The plates are equally beautiful. Here, it is frequented by our lakeside peeps, on the menu proudly hanged on the wall is fish, fish, fish, omena, omena, omena and beef. Ugali and chapo, no rice or potatoes or githeri. You see, in all senses, compared to others, this is esteemed. I enjoyed a plate of fish prepared the lakeside way. When I went back to the office, I had even forgotten about Joe because fish particularly makes me very happy. Y’all remember how much it rained yesterday, don’t you. We stayed long after eating. When we finally got back, he was there, at his usual, he had finished eating but for some reason he was still there. Was he waiting for me? Or maybe not. My colleague was holding the umbrella for us because first of all he is the man, but maybe because he is tall. He looked at me, then at my colleague and when he looked back at me, our eyes locked. I wanted to explain to him that he is just a colleague, our officers are neighbors, but wait a minute, why should I even explain anything to him.
I however, excused myself at the door.
“You and your colleague seemed cosy.”
“Come on Joe, it’s because we were sharing an umbrella.”
“You changed your eating place?”
“No, he just offered to buy me lunch, fish to be specific.”
“You love fish?”
“Yeah, I love fish.”
“Nice to know. So, your colleague?”
“He is not my type.”
He smiled, without really smiling.
“I smell some jealousy.”
“Yeah right. I have to get back to work, can I pick you at 5?”
“Sure. See you at 5.”
And the time between then and 5 went in a painful slow motion. I checked my phone every few seconds, by 5, it felt like I had waited a whole 50 days.
He was outside as promised. In a pair of jeans, a fitting tee and white canvas, man, I don’t own a single pair of white canvas because how do I keep them white? But here was Joe with a pair of white canvas that looked like they had been unwrapped a second ago.
“What do you want to do this evening?”
“I don’t know, what do you have in mind?”
He opened the car and let me in. He looked at me like he was debating on something then right there, in front of my office entrance, he leaned in and kissed me, so gently at first then with a burning desire. I was out of breath. His breath filled me up, I was breathing his air. What if someone from the office saw me? Would that be considered inappropriate?
“I know what you are thinking.”
“What am I thinking?”
He looked at the entrance. Two guys from the office were talking, had they seen me?
“This car is tinted, trust me, no one saw anything. I wouldn’t do anything to taint your reputation at work.”
I leaned in for another kiss this time. My whole body was swelling with a want, an urgent need. I closed my eyes and let the moment wash me in torrents, I wanted this man, I wanted him here and now but that was not possible. I pulled back, there was that desire in his eyes, it made me even weaker.
“Do you want to finish this?”
“I guess.”
He started the car and pulled away slowly, joining the traffic that was quickly building up.
“I don’t know you that well Diana, but I know you made something in my heart stir the first time I saw you and since then, all I have fantasized about is kissing you.”
“Are you becoming all marshy on me?”
“He he, I am summoning my courage before it fails me to say that I really like you.”
You see, I haven’t dated in a long while, I am used to being flattered by men all the time, especially those who want to sleep with me. This was no different except that the feeling was mutual. It soon started raining again. Vehicles were not moving at all. Traffic in Nairobi becomes a double nightmare when it rains. I had thoughts in my mind. Dirt wild thoughts.
I unfastened my seat belt and turned facing him, one minute I was kissing him and the next I was gagging on his pipe. Okay, I love car blowjobs, their climax is something out of this world, you have got to include it in your bucket list.
But why am I like this? I don’t even know this guy that well and already he is moaning my name in his car? What would mama say if she found out? Well, not that she is ever going to find out but, why am I like this?
It took him a few minutes to catch his breath and clean the thick mess on his jeans. An hour and we were still in traffic.
“I’m taking you home with me.”
I looked at my watch, I couldn’t, in as much as I wanted to, I had to go home and spend time with my son.
“I want to go home with you Joe, but not today.”
“You have started a fire that needs to be put out.”
“Trust me, my fire is just as fiery as you can imagine.”
“But your son..”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, allow me to take you home then. Your home.”
I wanted to refuse but he looked at me the way he did the first time and I found myself agreeing.
Two hours later, he was at my gate.
“I know, one day you will let me in. When you are ready.”
He brushed his lips against mine and got out, it was still drizzling, he opened the door for me, when I got out, he hugged me so tight I could feel his soul seep into mine.
“I will be thinking about you.”
“You’d better be.”
A second later, he was gone. I took a deep breath and opened the gate. Time to be mummy, but what about my desires?……….

Diana Mosoba

I went to my local supermarket, got in and totally forgot what I had gone to buy, who is me? So I walk around looking at random stuff, trying to remember what I really needed, looking at the studded condoms and thinking, ‘is it too late now to say sorry?’ Is it cheese that I wanted or plastic mugs, multi colored mugs? Then I see one of my Oga friends, it’s been a minute since we saw each other and in shock he goes like, “aaaa now, when did you get belle or belly?” He asks loudly and I have to match his zeal, so I respond loudly, “since that day I had sex.” There’s a mama picking milk, she looks like she is in the mothers guild, church choir, Sunday school, scouts, pathfinder and all the church committees. She looks at me in disgust and I can already imagine her narrating to her fellow chama members how she saw this disrespectful girl in the supermarket, I can see the other women turning their noses up in disgust as they clap their hands on their heavy thighs with award winning exclamations, some of them will say how this generation is a cursed one, and they will cover their mouths in shame, feeling sorry for the one who had to go through the ordeal of hearing the word ‘sex’ in public. They will pray for her, lay hands on her head and chant things that will put legio marias to shame. They will sweat as they lift their heavy thighs, sorry, hands in serious deliverance prayers, after forever they will declare her ‘healed, her ears have been sanctified and the anointing oil she is to apply generously every time she steps out will block such obnoxious words from reaching her now holy ears. Then they will surround the table and devour the food that was prepared for them, food that can feed the whole of Kenya and Tanzania for a week as they gossip about mama nani and baba nani. They will laugh at nani and her daughter and say how she is spoilt because different cars drops her home every evening, maybe it’s uber or Taxify or little cab but no! It has to be different men. They will even have details of the supposed men and how elderly they are. They vow to keep their faithful husbands from this shameless girl. Then they will down the food with torrents of tea before leaving for their homes. At night, the mama will turn to baba nani and tell him, “si tufanye leo.” I still don’t know what I wanted from the supermarket but I got the packet of condoms just in case.

Diana Mosoba

It’s been a long one coming. Alice sits from across the small coffee table. The big square is her favorite joint; it is convenient for me because of the proximity from work.

Alice is beautiful, she is chocolate in skin complexion and her make-up game is on point. Maybe I should blackmail her to teach me how to do my eyebrows. She is wearing bald, bold platinum bald. Her red lipstick screams independence, red is the color of the bold after all. She has a heavy Meru accent laced with a strong American accent, how she talks will just blow your mind.

”Good to finally put a face to the name Diana.”

”You sounded disturbed.”

”I have wanted to talk about this for a really long time.”

‘‘What do you want to talk about?”

”My dad, i want to talk about my dad.”

”I am here now, talk to me.”

”Coffee? I picked it up as a habit from you.”

”I hope you haven’t picked other unconventional stuff from me too.”

‘‘Only the good ones. You are an inspiration to so many of us, the way you write, you speak to me, my soul in particular.”

”Alice, maybe you should write me a fat cheque.”

She stops mid-sentence and stares at me, I know what’s going on in her mind, ”this woman is charging me for listening to me?”

I burst out with laughter, she is confused.

” Got you a good one.”

She rolls her eyes I can see the end of Iran. Our coffee is served.

”You were saying something about your dad.”

”God, I hate that man.”

I spurt out my coffee, not what I expected to hear.

‘’Hate is such a strong word.’’

“My mum died when I was only 5 years old. God rest her soul in peace. So it was me and my sister.”

‘’I am so sorry for your loss.’’

‘’Thank you.’’

She sips her coffee and looks out the big window at the already building up traffic, Mombasa road can be a nightmare. I don’t want to interrupt her train of thoughts, maybe she is having a memory of her mother. Then she suddenly turns to me and carries on, with no emotion at all.

‘’That man went to the states after the burial and we never heard or saw him until when I was in form 2. By the way my sister and I are only months apart, we look like twins. She was in form 1.’’

I sip my coffee and note the similarities to what happened to my cousins. Dad in states then shows up when kids are going to High School, which is a good thing because granny will get help paying school fees, right?

‘’Our lives automatically changed, and for the better. He had married another woman, she welcomed us with open arms and insisted that we call her mum. They had built a house in Syokimau. We just blended right in; she had 2 sons, my brothers, I love those boys.”

‘’That sounds like a good thing.’’

‘’Yeah, we were one happy family. He used to take us out, take us shopping, to excursions, you know those kind of things.’’

‘’I know.’’

‘’We grew up in the village with our granny, so coming to Nairobi to this transformation was kind of big. Kids in school knew we were rich because our dad was an American. He used to pop up in school in his black Benz and we’d be called from class regardless of what lesson was going on, the corruption in our institutions! Simply because he was from America, sic.’’

‘’I could have loved that experience while in High school, I could have behaved like a royal.’’

She laughs, maybe for the first time since I got here, or maybe because her laughter is rich and can win an Oscar if there was a laughing competition.

‘’After High School, my grandma became ill so we had to bring her to live us. Dad gave us an apartment along James Gichuru road. He owned the building, he actually gave it to us so as to sustain ourselves. I Joined Strathmore University to pursue International Relations. Life was good, we were okay. I mean, we had everything we needed. My best friend from High School came to live with us. For some reason my grandma used to say she had a dark soul.”

At this point she sips her coffee whilst fully. I can see the battling thoughts tearing at her, I can feel the thud of her heart from, her chest is not rising softly, no. It is raging. Is she upset? I reach out and touch her hand, I don’t know what to say to her. She looks up and her eyes are filled with tears. She takes out a handkerchief from her Korr bag and head to the bathroom. I am not good with dealing with emotions and for the few minutes that I am left alone, I reflect on a lot, finish my coffee and order for a fresh mug. A few minutes later, she returns. Her make-up is fresh, she doesn’t look like she was blowing her nose a second ago, she looks ready for a magazine shoot.

‘’Sorry about that.’’

‘’Oh, It is okay, are you feeling better now?’’

‘’Yeah. This is where it gets messed up.’’

I simply nod and wait.

‘’My dad used to come to see us every day, he stopped. He moved from home in Syokimau and never wanted anyone to know where he was staying. But he still provided for us and paid our school fees.

My sister joined University of Nairobi, my brothers were still in High School. Mum had her hardware shop going. He may have changed a bit but everything else was pretty much the same.’’

She sips her coffee, it is cold. She makes those faces, yuk faces. She makes a new order for fries and nuggets.

‘’Two years later, when, i was a third year, things fell apart. My best friend moved out of our house and somehow everything just went wrong.’’

‘’What happened?’’

‘’That week, dad called us for a meeting at home. He said he was bankrupt and could no longer afford paying our fees. As a matter of fact, he said we were grown up women and should find ourselves husbands.’’

‘’What?’’

‘’Yeah. I dropped out of school and started working at Nakumatt to keep my sister in school. Honestly, I wasn’t making much. Grandma needed her meds, mum had struggles of her own. Things were hard for all of us. Eventually, my sister dropped out of school too.’’

‘’How sad.’’

‘’That was just the beggining. One morning, i went to my dad’s office, guess who I find there?’’

‘’Your mum?’’

She snorts, a painful snorts coming from the chest. You know those choking snorts? That one.

‘’My best friend. I asked her what she was doing and she told me she was now managing my father’s properties. Can you believe that?’’

‘’This is worse than I thought.’’

‘’It does not stop there. I demanded to speak to my dad. She shut the door on my face and asked the security people to throw me out.’’

‘’What? The nerve that woman has.’’

‘’I waited outside until she left the office, she was driving his classic Benz. I followed her to somewhere along Kiambu road. I followed her to the house, a big stand alone house. Dad was outside smoking and when he saw me, the cigarette fell. I was not there for drama or anything, i just wanted my dad back.’’

‘’Did you talk to him?’’

‘’I did. I told him how she had thrown me out of the office.’’

‘’What did he say?’’

‘’That is what makes it all sad, he defended her. He asked me to leave and promised to call me.’’

‘’Did he call you?’’

‘’No, that week, we were served with an eviction note. He had sold off the house, we had a month to vacate.’’

‘’No, what?’’

I couldn’t wrap my head around this, I mean, what sort of a father does that? To his children?

‘’The Syokimau house and shop had also been sold off. We had no option but go back to the village. No degree, no father and all for what?’’

‘’I don’t know what to say Alice, really, I am so sorry.’’

‘’I found a job at the chief’s office, the only advantage I had in the village was that I was from Nairobi and I had been to University. I later found out that he had sold off all the properties and bought land in Karen, he built a really big house for my friend and they have two kids I think.’’

She laughs again, this time, a softer laugher that rings in my ears long after she stopped. She does not sound bitter at all.

‘’I got a Greencard a few years ago. I took my sister, my grandma and my brothers. We managed to buy land for mum in Thika and built a house for her, she says she does not want to be a slave to the Americans.’’

‘’And your dad?’’

‘’I don’t care about him, he can continue changing diapers for all I care.’’

Pain comes in phases. I think by the fact that she has spoken about it, she is on her last phase. I want her to be happy with where life has taken her.

‘’Should we pray for karma to visit your friend?’’

She looks at me again like I am unbelievable.

‘’Diana, you really are crazy.’’

‘’Huh! My coffee got cold listening to you.’’

We both laugh. I finish the last of my coffee and she cleans her plate. Such a petite body but she eats a lot, where does the food go?

‘’Thank you for listening to me.’’

‘’You are Welcome dear, anytime.’’

‘’So, summer bunny, what did you bring for me? Reeboks?’’

It is a good feeling to watch someone lighten up, let loose and pour it all out.

‘’I am getting married in a few months; he wants the dowry but he isn’t getting nothing. He will not even walk me down the aisle.’’

Alice, do not let pain and anger consume you.’’

‘’I am not angry anymore. But I just hate him. I have brothers and a mum, they will walk me down.’’

‘’I understand.’’

It is late, time for me to get home. She insists on paying and we take our separate ubers.

A dad, instrumental yet can be so destructive.

Diana Mosoba

“Have you ever been betrayed by the closest person to you?”
That is a question that most of you can relate with. One person that you could do anything for, but they drove a knife straight into your back. Jack is well into his 50s, a successful city business man with ties and connections. He has a family, a wife and 4 kids, two boys and two girls. Out of the 4, only one is his. “Is it possible to move out now and start a new life?”
“It’s never too late Jack, is it what you really want?” “Diana, you are too young to understand.” “But if you called me here, it means….” “It was weighing me down. This secret. I have carried it with me for the last 6 years. Each night, we sit around our dining table and share a meal and laughter in between, I feel the knife dredge further into my heart.” “What happened?” “Would you like to order for anything? Anything, just order.”
How can I possibly eat something when the man in front of me is breaking apart right before my eyes. I am hungry, but no appetite. Some people carry with them wounds, painful wounds and when they open up, you feel the pain for them.

Tycoon

“I will have coffee.”
“This place is called Tycoon, it is quite pricey, you should take advantage of their steak, it is sumptuous.”  “Jack, I am hungry yes, very much. But looking at you, your pain is apparent”
He flags down a waiter and makes an order, steak, medium cooked and roast potatoes.
“You will love their food. Wine?” My mind is on a frenz, but I nod, red sweet wine it is.
“You know, my age comes with a lot of lessons and one of them is, never go hungry when a pot full of meat is sitting right in front of you.”
“You are a funny man.” “I always thought my kids had a very uncanny resemblance to my best friend.”

“Interesting.”

He looks away as though wishing away something painful.
“My wife had gone to Dubai for a chama with her friends. I was home with the kids when my youngest son became ill. I had to take him to the hospital.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah, he is fine. He was 5 then, now he is 10 or so.”
“What happened?”
“He needed a blood transfusion and as the father, I was the first choice for a blood donation.”
I nodded, because nodding is what you do when you have nothing to say.
“The lab results was quite the result Diana; our blood was not matching. This somehow piqued me, how was that possible? Don’t get me wrong, I am not a medic but I know one or two things.” I look at him and imagine raising kids that all along you thought were yours but then they are not. Our food is here. Tycoon is called Tycoon for a reason and I can tell you for free that their food is sumptuous. Back to Jack, he digs in to his food, like he has not just told me something disturbing. He eats with etiquette. Finally he sets his folk and knife down and looks up.
“How do you like the steak?”
“Oh, it’s delicious.” “I told you, it would have been such a shame if you had not tried it.”
I laugh, a little because there is food in my mouth but mostly because I feel really sorry for Jack.

DNA results

“I called a friend of mine who works in Mp Shah hospital, I told him what happened and he suggested that we do a DNA. Let me tell you Diana, this is when all your life is laid bare. I was confused, and scared. My whole life was built around my kids, what if the results turned out negative? I couldn’t tell my wife about it, what if the results turned out positive? Our relationship would be over, either way I was screwed. But because I had doubts about the boy, I had to go on and do it. I did the DNA in secret and when the results came, my whole world came tumbling down.”
“I’m so sorry Jack.”
“Don’t be, I don’t want your sympathy.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just looked at him sip his beer. His beard is greyish by the way. “My youngest son was not mine, possibly the other three were not mine either. So, I did DNA tests on all of them. Only the eldest boy is mine. The other three….”
He trails off, lost of words, his voice is full of emotions. I can feel it. “I didn’t want to go home, heck I wanted to pack my son and move out, but it’s not that easy. A lot of things started making sense then. These kids look a lot more like my best friend Ben. I had to find a way to know if he had betrayed me with my wife.” You know those situations that you know not what to say? Yes, there was a lot going on in my mind but I had no idea what to say, lest I say something wrong. “Getting his sample wasn’t hard, he is my best friend after all. The results turned out positive. I wanted to go home and confront them, beat him up, I wanted to kill them. I was so mad and so hurt, I was helpless.”

Hurt

“Jack.” “I didn’t go home for days, I switched off my phone, I wanted to die.” He sips his beer, and shakes the empty bottle. “You know alcohol has no solace, right?” “It warms my belly Diana, and sometimes my cold heart.”
“Your heart is cold?”
“Mmmmm, ice cold. I don’t know how I survived that phase of my life. It was the darkest moment of my whole life.” “But you are here, aren’t you?” “Yes, I am. I have been thinking of what to do since then. I know moving out will affect the kids but every day I spend in that house is an inch closer to my grave.” “How’s the relationship between you and your wife? And your friend?” “There is no relationship between us. I moved from where we were staying to put distance between us, we don’t even talk that much. When I found out, I wanted to kill them, I even hired a hitman but could not go on with the plan. I bought a gun, I still have it. I bought poison, all crazy thoughts I could have, I had. I watched movies involving smooth murder, I wanted to do it, to soothe my ego and numb my pain.”
“You are a good man Jack, but you need to think about your life now. Live while you are still alive.” “I have a Green card to the States, I have been toying with the idea of relocating with my son and just starting all over again, but look at my age.”
This man is hurting, a pain so deep i can sip through it. It is obvious he cares about his kid or kids. He means good for them. But is it fair to sacrifice his life for others? Personally, I don’t think so. “Jack, this may sound selfish but your wife cheated and even had kids with another man.” “I know, Lord I hate that woman. I loathe her, and it gets intense every day.
“Then why do you stay?”
“Frankly, I have no idea why I am still there.”
“You know what, take that Green car’s and your son and start a new life, you deserve it.”
He looks at me, keenly, like he is seeing me for the first time. He takes off his glasses and wipes them with a small white napkin. He takes time, he is in the zone, I guess the zone where he decides what to do with his life.
He looks up at me and smiles, it is a fresh smile, heck he looks younger.
“Diana, you are God sent.”
“No, I am just a good listener.” “I was scared of being judged and being called weak.”
“Who cares what the world thinks? If they have a problem with you being happy, let them learn to deal with it. Move on Jack, the world will adjust.” The waiter brings the bill, he swipes his card and takes out a clean note of 1000 and tips the waiter.  He returns his attention to me, “Diana, I needed to let it out. You know, just talk to someone.”
“I am glad to talk to you.” “I now know what to do.” He pours me more wine, I see the red tickle down the glass leaving a trail of wetness. We make mistakes, we make choices, we leave traces of pain to the people in our lives. We destroy them, yet we fail to see the damage because we feel entitled. Jack raises his glass, I raise mine, and they clink, in a new moment, a choice has been made. “To a new life.” “To a new life, I wish you all the best Jack.”

What next?

He picks his phone and calls his now ex best friend,
“Bwana, it’s been a minute. Can you come to the house with mama, I have something I want to share with you.”
A few more aha and oho and I will see you then.
He calls his wife, or who used to be his wife. He tells her they are hosting their friends for dinner tonight, “Make it extra special because tonight is special.”
If I was the woman on the other end, I’d be confused because the Jack I met when I came in is not the same Jack I am looking at now. I question my advice to him, did I tell him to do the right thing because as sure as the rains, two families are disintegrating tonight. Two broken families are pulling off their masks, beneath the masks is always ugly.
The truth is always ugly, has more casualties that initially thought.
He looks at his watch,
“Time for me to go and meet them.”
“All the best.” He smiles, a wavering smile that lasts for a few seconds. He then gets up and hurries out. Tonight, I pray to God that Jack starts living, and that he finds the grace to move on and that he grows back into happiness. They say, sometimes the wounds that once bled can blossom again.

Betrayal in Flesh.

Diana Mosoba

Hello dad? Hello mum? I write this wiping away tears from my young cheeks. Tears of fear. Fear of what might happen to me and my little sister. Am afraid. Ideally, I should be writing to ask you for protection from my fears. Ironically, you are the ones I now dread more than the vampires in horror movies. But I still love you because I have not known any parents apart from you.

I have been watching in the news how estranged parents have brutally murdered their kids without an iota of remorse. Hardly a day passes without such an incident getting mentioned. I always shed tears for the innocent souls deprived of a life so promising and full of hope. Not killed by bears or wild dogs but by their biological parents. Parents who just decided to turn against their own flesh. Which child couldn’t be afraid.?

A little background search has always pointed to family wrangles. Wrangles the kids were not privy to. Wrangles they never took part in, they only found themselves in the mix. Nobody cared to listen to them. But still what could they have to say in situations they understood nothing about? And what did they get back for their innocence? Brutal murder. Are you now seeing why am afraid?

Granny’s place

Lately, you, our parents, haven’t been in good terms. It is no longer the same lively life we grew up in. Everything today is messy and noisy. The frequent fights and quarrels are draining us. They are affecting us emotionally and physically. Is our presence in your lives irritating hence the cause of all this rampage? Were you happy before we came into your lives? Are you just afraid to face and tell us to our faces that we, your kids, are the reason for the constant fights? So that you have resorted to turn your anger to each other? Tell us. We will walk out to our granny’s place and start life there. Granny loves us unconditionally. She calls me ‘ My husband’ because am named after her husband my late grandfather. She always cooks us good food and sings nice traditional songs to us every evening when we are at her place. That is why I want to take my sister with me, and seek refuge there. In our absence, I guess you will be happy again. You won’t fight anymore. You will embrace warmly and cuddle like young lovers. Just open up.

A slap

Last month a hot slap landed on my innocent cheeks when I tried intervening in your fights. Am still hurting. I had to lie to my teacher in school that I had fallen over while riding my bicycle with friends at home. She never doubted. I feel guilty I lied. I should have just told her you guys were fighting and when I tried to stop you, you unleashed one missile my way and it landed on my cheek. Now I understand why peace-keepers die in those peace keeping missions. I wanted to do what our priest said when he was preaching about the beatitudes. You remember, ” Blessed are the peace makers for they shall be called sons of God.” I wanted to be called a son of God. But you angrily shouted at me and hit me in the process and out of fear I had to run and hide in my bedroom as you hit each other, tore each other’s clothes and insulted each other in terms you’d kill me if I dared use on other kids yet I have come to learn them from you mom and dad. I still haven’t forgotten how my little sister frantically cried that day.

Divorce

I know you are planning a divorce. Mum has said she will take us with her to wherever she goes. You have severally threatened her of untold consequences if she takes us with her. I can tell things are going south. Soon or later we are going to disappear. Our neighbours will say they haven’t seen us in a while. They will admit that our home has had a tough and rough time in recent days. Everyone will be worried.

Reports will be made in all police stations around. Our pictures will be circulated on social and mainstream media. People will be asked to report any information regarding our disappearance and whereabouts to the police. Some will offer rewards.  One week will elapse without a trace of us. Anxiety and fear will now increase. It will now be almost obvious that we are no more.

Authorities and relatives will begin tracing our last movements. They will go through CCTV cameras in the neighbourhood. They will check our parents last communications on their phones.  Then boom, shallow graves will be discovered in a thicket nearby with badly mutilated bodies of two kids rightfully believed to be ours. A lot of people will gather around. Women will be wailing uncontrollably. Police will be having difficulty controlling people from coming too close and interfering with the scene of crime. People will flash out their phones and take pics of our lifeless bodies to update on their social media statuses. Others will post and say, “Type rip if you have a heart”. Journalists will interview people around. Some will say what they know, others will say what they think, others will say what they heard. But they will all be speaking about our death. The police will say investigations have been launched and they will bring the suspect to book.

We will be soon forgotten

That incident will be the headline during news time. Everyone will be shocked and sad. They will type ” rip angels”. One week will pass and we will be forgotten. Our cousins and uncles will miss us but they will soon move on. In another week’s time, we shall have been buried upcountry and that will be it. Forgotten for good.

So please, let us out as early as now. We don’t want what befell our mates find us. If possible, please reconcile and continue living together happily with us. Before the chaos, you have been the best parents we could ask for. I still believe you are. Bring back the love, the laughter, the joy, the hugs, the gifts, the walks, the outs, the picnics and games that were our way of life. I beg. Because, I don’t want to die and be discovered in a shallow grave. I don’t want to die in the hands of a parent I have loved all along. No. I also want to grow up and bring forth lovely kids that will be your grandkids. Please don’t kill me! Don’t kill each other also. We need both of you in our lives.

By a child from an enstranged family to his parents.