Wishful Thinking of A Stupid Girl.

I had a short sit down with a workmate yesterday, feeling all hungry and depressed because of what we all concluded to be because of the oppression we had experienced up until this point in our lives as young inters barely making a thing. Well, some of us more than others on the oppression thing, some of us being me, I thought I was worse off for sure, but I may never know for I don’t really want any sort of relationship, even a good one, with this workmate.

Now let me help you understand my position. Recently got kicked out of places that I called home, not that I’m complaining, it’s just the nature of life, mostly my life, where things like that happen and no one is really shocked. Well, except people who are new to me.

Anyway, life’s been real for a minute, and for me that’s okay because all my life I’ve been struggling for things, relationships, jobs, families that were not going to work and I know it now. So I got this new thing where I say, it be like that sometimes, and I let it go.

In between psychiatrist charges in his Nairobi where smokies are not even 20 bob anymore, who has that money. If they did and they gave it to me I still wouldn’t pay for a shrink, there some kicks I saw in backyard that I know would elevate my career just by the way I would walk in them, I mean who can deny the confidence of a strong beautiful, intelligent, overpraised as a child, black woman? 

My step mom is a judge, I want to put it outside there so that you see that at home they aren’t doing to badly, if I didn’t, would I even be a luo, let alone Kenyan? My dad, congratulations to him, just opened a law firm. He recently told me that I needed a psychiatrist. Something about petty issues that I shouldn’t be holding on to anymore, and in any case, who has time {new law firm}. Something about I’m making my parents scared to talk to me. I don’t get it, they’ve been talking my whole life, wonder what’s scaring them now. Sorry I didn’t mean to come off as bitter.

Basically I’m so used to things not working out that I just live apologizing. That went sideways, I’m again, sorry I didn’t mean to put you in this weird mood I’ve created, you know me, I’m a funny girl who writes happy stories, most of the time… sometimes, listen, I write! So onto happier matters, I’ve finally decided to continue writing my erotica, that book bound that I felt was too much for me at the time, I think I bit too much, I’m ready now, pumped with ideas. Definitely going to turn some of you on, yes you, I am still speaking to you bro.

Anyway, my workmate. We are having lunch, a free lunch that the big man gives us, that my girlfriend is very envious of. Well, I am grateful too because in between 300 bob for lunch in 30 days that translates to 9k which is actually above my salary, sorry, stipend is the word they used when they inducted me. That’s before diner and transport. I haven’t mentioned rent have I? I’m just trying to understand how other people are doing it, damn adulting has to be really difficult, judging from all the adults that are hypertensive. Notice how that number is significantly smaller for kids, I will not mention anything else. {The kids want to eliminate us, I’m starting a support group for anyone like minded, lets meet at the corner at 3am it is not safe out here, children everywhere.}

I’ll also have you know while I type this I am going from happy to confused to funny, that could be because I am watching a hilarious series and typing so everyone thinks I’m doing serious manufacturing stuff that is very important and is the very foundation of this company, in fact I might throw in a cringe at the screen to remind them that without me this company may actually not make it throught the day let alone the fiscal year. You have to try you know. 

Binadamu ni kujiamini bro. For the third time, the intern!

He says to me,

kwani ukiingia huko hutaiba?”

We are talking about the government and how there are some corrupt individuals and that they donate like 10 mil to their church. I’m thinking well that explains the number of choppers and jets that the men of cloth have been procuring. I mean, who doesn’t want a jet though? I could use some air. What are the chances that I will ever get one, I have to tell you, they are very slim, didn’t I tell you about the lunch thing and how I definitely will not be able to afford it, that’s just lunch.

At least I have my brain which I find to be very interesting. Some might go so far as to call me intelligent, others find me dumb, whichever, at least I have my degree right? Because all people that graduate in this country get jobs, {insert ugly laughter.} All the same I’m not academically challenged so that’s one on my court, oh I also know how to use excel, this happened yesterday when I got an assignment and I almost died. Well thank God for google, I should also probably thank the founders too and a pretty girl that lit my path. You must also be wondering why I am clearly computer deficient but that is none of your business love.

Point is, I would love to live in a good place, like walk to work, bike back at 8pm and jump into my bed with shoes on like in Australia or something. I’d love more than ten people to be able to afford a jet, I mean people that I know. I’m so tired of the regular broke story. Unemployment and the sixty years it takes for people to finally pay off loans and mortgages. I really cannot stand that narrative any longer. Why then would this regular denguar thinking that if were in office I’d steal. I also don’t understand this thirst for money just for you. When I think of how badly I want my entire crew in Jamaica or Trinidad and Tobago, maybe even just Zanzibar, don’t you worry about my destination, once again, none of your business. I will definitely not do the ‘God when?’, because by the day the situation gets worse. In between the graft and the lies and just good old fashion oppression, for lack of a better word, when would the jet come. The opportunities that we thought we had, gone. I was so hopeful.

When will we have the actual good things out if life. I mean except the alcohol we drain in the clubs and all the illegal sheesha. How long before we have pretty trains and clean streets. Before we can have financial security as a unit? Man I’m tired of feeling this hopelessness. I’m tired of more bad news and more women reps that I may have stood up for only for them to be yet another lightskin daft that jumps on any train to “increase our salaries” anga employer wants to give me a raise in twitter. I am the employer I voted you in, I definitely don’t have the capacity to give a rich man a raise. Maybe I am actually in need of a shrink. Recently someone was adviced by statehouse that they might be depressed. Wonder what caused that, he was trying to break into some drunk’s house and it was a whole issue. Blown out of proportion if you ask me, but I realize that you are not. 

I just wish my girlfriend and I could hold hands and take a nice long trip out of this place but that is not even something the government can talk about, lest we make them uncomfortable. Honestly my biggest fear is getting jailed or hurt I wouldn’t be the first would I? 

The beauty of life though, is that it be like that. I’ve been in very low moments but I came out of it glowing, as I am glowing these days happy and sated all day long. I’m thinking straight and I know there is a way out of the pit because while sometimes I think its the wishfull thinking of a little girl, a stupid girl that needs mental help, according to some, but then my rational mind tells me we can. Gaddafi was a little boy and what he did for he’s country was huge, he might have taken power for significantly longer than he was supposed to, some might even call him a dictator, but once again it be like that. This is Africa. I just want to know for how long we will be in the pit. Which of us should take responsibility and stop it, ama we continue sitting and wishful thinking that we’ll marry a rich white dude to take you to Ireland? Wake up, you’ll piss yourself nanii.

Lets agree, lets make a pact, that we aren’t giving these people more chances. I’m not talking revolt, I don’t think I can fight for shit. One slap and I will lie down flat with my hands behind my head. I’m talking change. We have capacity, all 40 mil of us, some of us are smart others not so much, there is room for improvement lads. Don’t be seated somewhere thinking of how you’ll become an MP in an already dying country and immediately start looting. Something about ‘mtoto wangu lazima aendeshe rover.’ Sit your raggedy ass back down no one wants you as a leader, you lack basic speaking skills, I am speaking like this at 20 something, you will not manage to convince me. Focus on filing those financial records and think of actual ways out of the pit, because I warn you, I’ll be coming for you. I will have the capacity and I will take you down because all these guys had to do was think of ways to lie to us and they have been for thousands of days. 

There is good news though. The good news is that I will be there when my peers are in parliament, and as a self glorified overthinker I want to find a way to break the African curse. We have to move to the next level. I see white people hack into doors and cars, here we are waiting for a small parliamentarian to carry an osofia full of money into a land cruiser to hide it in he’s pillows ati its safe. That is a stupid plan, is what it is.

Lets think outside of poor, old, sad and dark Africa

Via Aduda



‘Do I have something to say? Yes I do. But where to start is where am not so sure.’

Roboman from Netflix’s Velvet Buzzsaw

Thoughts that I have whenever I try to picture myself in a therapist session. Its funny how I want to heal myself without having to let someone in. The walls that have been built can put the great wall of China into shame.

She tried her childhood, teenage years, early adulthood, her mid ‘ what in the world is going on’ years but they always miss something. Something that she cant remember. She doesnt know when it happened,but it happened. She can feel it, taste it, hounds over her like a halo, but she couldn’t name it.

She read psychology to try and find it out but she couldn’t. Only thing that came out is that she learned about people, their behaviour, their patterns, their characters. She learned them so good, so good that she knew what to say or what to be. But she slipped every now and then, but she always got up. And from there is where her walls started being erected. The world was her dancefloor, she knew it yet she couldn’t stand up and do the cha-cha.

But now she is at the corner, no escape, no excuses, no stories. “Is this the breaking point? Is this what they say make it or make it?” Everywhere she turned, eyes were on her, of loved ones, acquaintances and strangers. Some hands were stretching with hope on their faces. Hope, of which she was. And it was time for her to stand, as wobbly as she could, and do the cha-cha.

Via NayNay

Will I Never Just be Enough


He leaned in to kiss her gently and said, “Darling you’re so beautiful. You’re so special. If only we weren’t so different.”

He gripped her in his fierce embrace and emerged from his delirious pleasure whispering, “You’re too good for me love.”

He sat next to her, held her hand in his, drank in her soul and told her, “you drive me mad sweetheart. But I’m sorry I want someone more like me”

They came and went. Each one so different. Each one seeing a different part of her. Each one falling just a little bit in love with her. With her pure aura. With her gentle heart. With her wild spirit. Each one drowned in her sea of magic. Each one took her with them.

But then they all swam ashore and left her suffocating under her ocean of mad passion and desire. Each fled when they realized that slowly they were sinking into the depths of her love. Each fled because they were afraid that if they let themselves drift deeper, they would forget to come up to breathe. Each of them fled because they couldn’t allow themselves to be prisoners in her cage.

And so they left her, a mermaid with a crown, a queen in her realm, to slowly turn into a monster. They left her with her mad grief, to save herself from the waves she created.

But, poor girl, she has no idea how to swim. She took off her crown to make herself lighter, but the weight of her pain bore her down. She took off her shells and gleaming pearls, but that only made her soul darker. She tried to scream out for help but her voice was caught in the raging tide.

So alone and tired, she lay among rocks and waited for death. Here she lies, her heart beating ever slower. Here she lies, her light slowly going out. Here she lies, he aura flickering off. And in her heart the melody replays…” I was too good for the bad boy. I was too wicked for the church guy. I was too good for the bad boy… I was too wicked for the good guy… I was too good… I was too wicked…”

“Will I never just be enough?”

Via Clover.

What if we forget it all?

Wearing my slippers at the balcony and staring into the horizon…I wonder whether it’s true that everyone is in control of their destiny. I sip on vodka in the glass and gulp slowly…feeling it slowly stream down my throat.

What if we will never see each other again?

What if we forget to meet at Chicken Inn or KFC or our favorite cafe in the heart of the street?

If we forget the future we can still make it up to ourselves. We can get creative and build it with our hands, you know, like use clay, or carve a statue out of wood like we used to do in Art and Craft.

But what if we forget the past? What if our memories become ashes and the next time we see each other we don’t feel anything at all?

I do not want to feel nothing for you. I can’t even imagine you as a stranger. I can’t imagine walking by you indifferently; not holding hands as we’re used to.

I do not want to think that we will eventually ignore each other because there’s nothing worst than ignorance. What if all those precious memories we created go down like a house consumed by fire?

What will remain of us is just ash and melancholy. I do not want our love to become apathy. We were us. We were special, so alive together.

I’d become lifeless without you.

Okay I know what you’re thinking and yes, I have three hundred and fifty fears, but oblivion is my deepest one. Nothing like forgetting us attacks my lungs so unforgivingly.

I do not want to forget our moments of escape in paradise.

I do not want to forget all the pictures we took together. I delete some from my gallery but they keep on regenerating, why?

We had a reason to be so perfect at such an inconvenient time. And I do not want to let it go as I envisaged the best coming out of it. I am not ready to disregard my intensity of our short, vivid instants.

I am afraid to forget your sweet mellow voice and that you will forget mine.

I am afraid to forget the fervor I saw in your eyes when we met.

I am afraid to forget your sense of humor and hearty laughters.

I am afraid to forget our love.

I am afraid to forget the pace of our love, your smooth hands caressing me, goofy faces, wagging your tongue at me at a distant when we in public, and the quick glances we used to exchange only after a few hours after not seeing each other.

I am afraid to forget the late night and early morning conversations over the phone.

I am afraid to forget the cosy and comforting feeling of sleeping and waking up with your warm tender body wrapped in mine.

I am afraid to forget how intimate we can get.

I am afraid to forget that I said I’d be loyal and only belong to you.

I am afraid to forget all the songs we played and listened together and the fights of who was playing the next one.

I am afraid to forget all our first times.

I am afraid of how dolorous our goodbye has been.

I am afraid to forget how liquor tasted so better when we had it together.

I am afraid to lose myself as I lose memories.

I do not want to forget how the intensity of our love made me feel alive again.

I want to remember. I want to be able to recall those instances that made me fall in love even when we were gone.

Even when the pain is too much to bear, I want to feel you one more time.

But again, maybe I’m lost in my world alone, dreaming.

Tha Dreamchaser.

Via Fidash


I give the most gentle of knocks that I can master, the adrenaline is pumping in my veins I am terrified I know I have crossed a line this time.

‘I don’t have to do this anymore, I am stronger than this,’ I keep chanting.

I don’t get a response as I knew I would not so with the last shred of balls that I have I open the heavy mahogany door and immediately the smell, the glorious smell of his presence hits me. I walk in, with a slight sway in the hip, just the way I know he likes it. He does not acknowledge me and I realise I may be in even deeper shit than I thought.

‘Sit down and be quiet.’

I take the furthest seat and fold my legs then straighten my back because who the hell does he think he is, today is the day I walk away, I am done, I will am leaving the chains. I have to keep chanting to myself I have to keep telling myself that I am bigger than him, I own him, he’s nothing without me.

‘I understand, I will be careful to consider this in future’

He hangs up looks at me then right past me then back to the telephone picks it up. It barely rings before it connects he listens for a minute and says

‘You know what to do.’

He stands to his full height back to me and gently picks up the scotch fills a glass, puts in some ice cubes and strides towards me. My breath catches at the sheer masculinity that is this man and wonder how I got myself here.


I know what he’s asking but I do not know what to say. He is looking at me like he expects a response and I stare, partly because I am awed by him and partly because I am about to take him down.

He sees my cocky face and realises I am not as terrified as he thinks I am, he comes closer and I give him a full blown smile,

‘Goddamnit Ava, what did you do, bloody heavens you told the press didn’t you, you have wanted to fuck this up right from the onset,’

I like the way he speaks.

‘Get out,’

Well, this is what I wanted isn’t it, to get rid of this, to let the burden go. I know I will not get any sleep tonight. I get up surprised that my legs work and move past him headed for the door then I realise belatedly that there is no letting this man go, I was made for this, I am forever going to be bound and as this dawns on me, I change my destination and go to the west side of the office and get down on my knees bow my head and arch my back. I know my place and it isn’t away from him.

‘Good girl.’

Most times I ask myself how I got here, how I got to be so powerful, the sheer respect that I get from the populace is impressive. I guess I was always just ambitious. While some might say it looks ugly on me, I did not get this far looking pretty. That may be the reason why I may never get married, or get kids, just wasn’t meant for me. I have no regrets thus far, all is going perfectly well.

I  notice that my mind wanders too much, he has left me here for hours in the past running his empire, being the boss that he is, while I waited my chance in patience. I thought most of my father that died while I was six, God rest his soul. Even more often was my mother, the most selfless being to ever exist in my world, took many of my beatings for me, died a soldier if you ask me. I stayed with Luca for the better part of my childhood, took the beatings of course after mama died, my grace period did end, but I applaud Luca he did his best for me, see, I turned out just fine.

When I was seventeen I moved to the big city that Luca had worked so long in, with his entire savings with me, I had earned it, I built myself up, brick by brick lets not forget Lucas’ unwilling small investment in me, [I may or may not have borrowed the money the night before I ran away, depends on who’s asking.] I built a comfortable life and the best part was never getting to tend to an abusive alcoholic.  I had a good life I was content but you never really know what you’re missing till you try that unknown. when I found my complexity, I was at first astounded then as is everything in my life, i embraced him, he grew on me, just like a cancer, those terminal ones that you can never get rid of, it ends with death. I hated to think of what may have caused my little disability but heck out of sight, out of mind.

I can hear a buzzing, I know the rhythm of that buzz and immediately all thoughts vanish and I remember that I am in the four hundred square feet expanse of the office I have come to know so well. He has redecorated here and there but its the same old thing that I may or may not have cum in repeatedly. My heart beat accelerates as I watch him walk towards my phone and switch it off then turn towards me an angry flare striking his face. He lifts his hand to his tie and loosens it not completly removing then as an after thought takes it off and strides towards me, takes my hands and binds my wrrists behind me. He’s being lenient, I am grateful. I do not move, shallow breaths and hooded eyes.

‘I asked you, I asked you so many times, you rejected me, Ava I want you to remember that you left me,


You have no right to come back and ruin my life with her now, is the arrangement not working? I have done my best Ava I have stayed away, I have let you build your life, I have watched  you take credit for me, I have paid them all off, you did not want a life with me, bad for business, wasn’t I? Now why am I getting calls from press about an affair?’

I can feel my tears coming up, I can feel the emptiness creeping up, my past faults that I was comfortable with tearing me apart. I should not have continues seeing him, I should have taken the high road, should have ended things early eough, the web had grown too big and too complicated now. This should have been the last time, I was coming to give farewell. To let him go, yet here I am again. I have not said a word since I came. I have submitted already to a complexity that is not mine.

I need to speak, I need to leave, I need to do something, anything. I can feel the anger, I know he doesnt want to deal with my shit anymore, I  should have never leaked to the press, wrong move, wrong time, wrong man.


And just like that, for the first time in fifteen years  I cry, I can feel my heart break, tired of all the work its been doing putting up with the shit. My hands are still restrained, it is getting to my skin, it hurts I try to focuss on that and I can’t, I begin to sob and for the first time lift my eyes up to meet his. I watch the  blood drain from hes face, he looks ashy then his hands begin to shake, I have never put him so off balance. This was not the plan, so not the plan.

The shoes come off second to the tie and he kneels. This works me up even more than all the rest, he never humbles himself for me, he doesn’t come down to my level, he doesnt sink down to me, he tells me how I can get up to him, when I am ready. My tears seem not to be controlable. Well this is embarrasing. He holds my waist pulls me closer head to shoulder my sobbing body accepts this, he unwraps the tie, freeing my hands and I beggin to protest I know what I need, and it is to capitulate, to yield and not to move, to be confined within the rules, to obey, to be submissive. It is all I know the only life I have lived with them all, it’s my medicine.

He is saying no, he is freeing me, he is massaging my writs where they were tied up and looking at me, tender eyes, I cant remember tender eyes, I cannot deal with tender eyes. He then proceeds to rip my  heart right out, wraps my body into his and rocks me back and forth as if to sing

rockabye baby don’t you cry,

‘Hush there Cherie, it’s not like that this time, I got you baby, now let the demon out.’

Via Adudahera


I think it is morning, I hope it isn’t but I know for a fact that it must be. Something must have woken me up, it does not take me long to find it. I smile that one smile that I reserve for him, he doesn’t return it. I guess we are not in a smiling mood. The Nyaluo in me will not agree to this, I keep smiling and he catches the drift and gives mama some teeth. I do my sarcastic giggle because I can and when I hear myself I think, it sounds good.

Among the most famous words I have heard given to me by men in my adult life are to name a few,

“Luos don’t come this pretty nowadays jaber, are you a hybrid?”,

“Those eyes tear me down jowa, I’m coming to pay dowry this weekend because there is no way am letting you go”….

One thing or another with an obvious goal that I might shame myself for falling for one too many times in the distant past. Enough about this stories, the point was that this man often told me how beautiful he thought I was, in the beginning, it puzzled me, because how? then came the understanding and I actually believed him because like I mentioned above, I like to shame myself more often than not.

This, therefore, cancels out my good giggle for, and I want to assure you, my voice is nothing to reckon with. Back to important things, i get up from my bed it’s roughly nine thirty am, no this is not the time that i woke up, i woke up roughly at six am, i get to the shower, toy about with it till i get the right temperature then my body is systematically cleaned. I don’t hate this shower i come to notice, i might get used to this…

Am feeling particularly pretty today, I put my nude lipstick on, make an attempt to hold up my weave, that I wish I didn’t put in the first place but a few people have thought it looks good, good, bad, semantics really if you ask me. The nude lipstick is supposed to make my lips pop but by the time I walk past the light-skin receptionist i instantly wish i wore the dark purple that my good friend, let me call her Barbie thinks looks good on us dark skin girls.

This girl maybe 25 or 26, i may be tempted to say 30 or 40 but i will not get personal with her, assumes my very presence. Now i was not in the “let it pass mood” because, as i mentioned earlier, i was feeling pretty today. She says to  me, and i know she was talking to me because there was no-one else in the lobby she could have been referring to but me, “that comes with breakfast,” i thought so but i stood all the same and waited for my him, lets name him Thindo to come and respond.

We did not have her silly breakfast, i say with pride, despite the smile she plastered on her face when Thindo reached me and said,

“No, breakfast wont be necessary,”

I couldn’t hide my smile, it was going to be a good morning this one.

Now there is something about eating at home that appeals to me, it might be the fact that i don’t need to put both legs on the floor when i eat or the fact that no-one would care if i showed the color of my panties as i got comfortable on the floor  and bit a far too big piece of sausage off and it proceeded to burn my tongue where i would then attempt to dispel some air out by hissing in the least dignified manner you can think of, otherwise are you even eating sausage? wait what was i saying yawa, i talk too fucking much, ooh eating out. Yes, i dont like eating out, fighting with knives and forks and whatnot yet we all know mayai you tear with your hand and put in your mouth because the taste of mayai and oil on its own minus all that bread nonsense is what we live for, dont pretend you dont know what im saying…

I get into java Hurlingham and you already know what i see, people having business breakfasts, i think, they look pretty serious and it is a Wednesday morning, others just there because they can take breakfast in java, its their damned ass money by the way you have nothing to say, others are just not in love with the breakfast their maids make at home. I classify all these categories of people in one glance at the room, then tell Thindo, we are sitting there, i indicate with my finger at the far left corner. My Thindo follows me and behind him is a pretty, short and melanised waitress just like me. We sit as she calmly waits for us to organise our shit,then she gives us our menus and while she turns she gives me that smile, that knowing one, like damn girl.

I smile back, i know at that moment that i did well going with nude, she walks away and my stare lingers on her. She’s probably my height, she’s curvy but not voluptuous, she has her braids caught in a bun at the top of her head and at that instant i realize she’s most probably better looking than i am.

Quickly i turn my gaze to the menu she gave me and open it, it’s about to happen and i know it. I’m about to hand my stupid ass back at myself a nice good plate, i have been served. What was that smile about, maybe she knows i have lied to Mrs Ochieng Nyar Kanyada about my whereabouts, i must not look like i come from around i mean rich people don’t wear doll shoes and short dresses not these 500 bob ones at least. I knew this yesterday but why did i wear them? Why couldn’t i stick to my thick sole rubbers, they’d look better for sure. my hair, this hair ojoga ma daliedalieda i dont know about this weave business it looks awful and the waitress knows it has been on my head one week too long. Maybe it Thindo here, what if she also knows he’s too good for me, i mean Thindo clearly has no problem with handling a fork knife and spoon, if need be. I  still want to talk about sitting on the floor  and bite big pieces of sausage. Im barbaric and they all know it. I mean i should have stayed longer with dad after the divorce, maybe i’d enjoy java like this people, maybe i’d know how to sit properly, one leg over another the way my cousin Mizurl does.

I hear footsteps she’s coming back, I’ve taken too long i haven’t read anything in this goddamned menu, i look up at her and then at Thindo who must have realized i was in my head again and left me to it, he knows the kind of maniac i am, he cannot change this so he walks with me while i do it when Im ready, i come back. She has that smile on her face and i know for sure that she knows i know what it meant, she makes a small nod and starts writing, that’s when i realise Thindo just said,

“ill have a house coffee and the breakfast combo,”

Via Adudahera

Out of Luck

“Am getting married “

The words felt like a hot knife slicing through butter. Trains of thoughts and hurricane of emotions collided, making her hyperventilate for a minute or so. As quickly as it came, she got back to her normal self.

“What do you mean getting married? When did you adult real quick to reach there?”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a year now?” He replied.

“Well call me caterpillar who is refusing to change into a butterfly! Dude, have we been not talking for the past year? ”

“I mean at first I wasnt sure till last month”

“Who is the girl” I asked him with my heart still racing.

“I don’t know yet, am going to go the traditional way”

“What in the wizards of Wakanda are you talking about? ”

“You? The most liberal person I know? You? ” “Loool. I know. Its just……. ”

Everything he wrote,tore her apart. She loved that man. Like genuine love. First person who made her start believing in soul mates. He got her, and she got him. Riding on the same wavelength. Perfection, ying yang. That #relationshipgoals kinda love. Even the break up was…. Easy, caring, no tears end. And the friendship after that, blossomed. Stronger. Intense. “You’re now family” friendship. Been there for each other every major life occasions, despite the distance.

It was so good that they could share secrets of themselves to each other. Secrets the world never knew existed.

Subconsciously she missed him engulfing

her with words that always made her feel amazingly good. But now, they found a way to show each other endearment without being cliche. And now he was getting married. And she knew that was the end of them. It was bound to happen eventually no matter who got a spouse earlier. Coz no partner would have been comfortable with their friendship. She knew one day it will end,but not this soon.

As days went by, she tried brushing it off. The more she tried burying it under work and social life, the more she lashed out to people around her. The self realization that she was punishing herself for the inevitable, gave her the the final push to letting go. True love never dies, and just because you love each other doesn’t mean you are bound to be together.

Via Nay Nay

“We Really Should Get You a Man”

He said I’m too nice I need a boyfriend. He said this with his lips on
my neck. He said this as his lips found mine and he drowned me in
passion and desire. He whispered this as I found myself so comfortable
in his hold, so content with his body pressed against mine. For a
second I thought I must have heard him wrong. For a second I thought
there is no way this man could be drinking in my soul while asking me
to find another. Later, when I lay in his arms, sweaty and breathing
deeply, I found myself wondering how messed up this is.

He kissed my forehead and held me close. He made me giggle and tickled
me- in all the spots he knows send me into playful fits. He let me
listen to his beating heart. And even quieted down into beautiful
silence just how he knows I like it sometimes. He let me play with his
neck and sit with my legs entwined around him. He listened to me
ramble on and on how I do when I’m giddy with hormones. He let me lie
on his shoulder in exhausted calm. And all this time I couldn’t
understand how he could be so blind.

He walked me home with my little palm in his. He kissed me as we
passed by a cackle of gossiping women by the market. He laughed when I
said I was high on ecstasy. He held my hand tighter when I asked him
to. But the fool still couldn’t see.

I took forever just to get on a bus… adorably moaning that I didn’t
wanna leave. So he stood there with me for what felt like hours. Just
talking. Laughing. Feeling each other. Finally when I couldn’t stay
any longer, he helped me get onto my ride home. As I hugged him and
gave it a gentle squeeze,  he kissed my cheek and said it again…
“Darling, you’re so incredibly sweet. We really should get you a man.”

Via Clover

Finding Something True. Perhaps One Day.

Perhaps one day, in another time, in another world. Perhaps then eros will be kind to me. Perhaps then it will be just the right time, at just the right place, at just the right moment.
Perhaps then we will find each other. Perhaps then we will stay. Perhaps then I will not be afraid to love you for knowing not if you will love me back. Perhaps then we will not need to think and rethink and think again. Perhaps then there will be no other one; no other mine or yours. No other heart I fear to hurt. No other’s life you wish to destroy. Perhaps then it will only be you and me.
Perhaps then you will look into my eyes and see your whole life etched in their sand. Perhaps then I will feel your heart beat and hear the rhythm to carry me to eternity. Perhaps then our lives will be nothing apart. Perhaps then we will be complete in each other.
Perhaps then I will stand by the shores of the ocean, watching the sun sink far into the waters. Perhaps you will walk up to me, a face never before seen, but a heart forever known.
And if not by the ocean, then perhaps in the fields of green at dusk. A lowly flower-picker blissful in her ways. Found by a man seeking a rose in its precious beauty.
And if not in the fields of green, then perhaps in the warmth of a coffee shop. Where I will sit alone reading Shakespeare, and you will find that every one of your senses directs you to me.
And if not in the ensnaring air of coffee, then perhaps in a crowded bus. With noises all round and chaos abound. Where a young woman will sit by the window, watching the rice fields and the woods fly past. Enamored of the sky in its blue and white and streaks of gray. Entranced in a world of her own, until the other half of her sits by her side, both unknowing of their fates intertwined.
And if not in a bus, then wherever it may be. If not while we are young, then whenever it will be. If not as we are, then whoever we shall be.
If only that in that time, in that space, in that world, we will find our way to each other.
Perhaps one day.
Via Clover.


What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you hear or read the word pain. I will tell you my definition through a series of experience I’ve gone through in the few years I’ve existed on this rock that revolves around a star.

5 year old me was a confident wanna be adult. I talked fast and acted faster. And when I bolted to the kitchen to to make myself a cup of hot chocolate, no one saw me. I was a tiny being who was and is still height challenged. The hot water jug had been placed on the table and as I clumsily pulled it, it tilted and the hot scalding water poured on my chest. The pain was so immense that after I let out a blood curdling scream, I lost conscious.

The following 8 months were grueling agony of trying to heal. School, friends, birthday parties, playing, joy, became obsolete. I then yielded an unfamiliar companion and confidant, radio. My love for music, art and communication blossomed there. Sundowner, radio theater, educational episodes on KBC became ingrained in me and left an impact.

Heartbreak. I was living on cloud 9 first time I fell in love. Then it happened. I never knew love could hurt this bad. My self esteem was in shambles. I lost weight, mind and will to live. I went to a place I never knew existed in my head. Then I found Quran. I know its a cliche when people say “God saved me” but am a living testament. I created a relationship so strong, intense, personal and fulfilling with my God that has enabled me to tackle most challenges in life I’ve faced with certain confidence and assuarity.

Aug 2013,I received a notification from my bank stating that the cheque I had issued had bounced and I had been penalized. I was broke. I couldn’t fathom how I had reached here. Memories of the times I spent money on unnecessary things haunted me the same way our government is being haunted by corruption cases. I had to learn to live within my means. Gone were the days where I used to eat chicken like a caucasian. Nowadays I clean the chicken bones so good that my fellows brothers and sisters from the western community would be proud of me.

Fast forward, to Feb 2018. I had been transfered to Doha Qatar. Money, status quo, and living in the wealthiest country in the world. Yet I was living my worst nightmare. My skin color, gender and age were my shortcomings when it came to my occupation. I did everything, frkn being nice to get the whole office dunkin donuts for two months. Nothing worked. I loathed how I felt preparing myself going to work. I despised how my co workers treated me. I shuddered at the sound of Skype call because I knew it was nothing but it would be something that will totally make me feel depressed. As I lay in bed, I wondered how I got myself here.

That morning I woke up, picked my passport and left for the airport. I left all my worldly possession I had over there. I slept two days at the airport for there were no direct flights back home. All I knew is that I was done, and I wanted my piece and peace of mind. And that I wouldn’t find it anywhere else than back home with the people I love and the environment that my soul knew.

So señoritas and señors, physical, emotional, financial, occupational pains that I have gone through has created fundamentals aspects of these woman you see infront of you. What doesn’t kill, makes you stronger, and gives you unhealthy coping mechanism that helps you to waddle through this journey called life.

Thank you.

Via Nay Nay.