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.

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Bound

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.

‘Why?’

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 BROKE MY HEART!

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.

‘I…I….I CANT’

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

Delusion

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

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.

Mkeka: The fading gem

When my grandmother sent for me, I knew whatever she wanted to show or tell me was of importance and it couldn’t wait. Once at her place I was fed to the brim as usual,you know how grandmas are right? Done, she called me in her room that had this warmth and always felt like home. Next to her bed was the decorative mat, mkeka wa chole.

“Take it” she said.

Puzzled, I asked why. I knew I was supposed to be given one on my wedding and so i couldn’t understand why she was giving me one then.

“You are different and you will need it. And maybe when the day comes, I might not be here to hand this to you”, she said in a frail loving voice.

Baffled, I sat next to her on her king size bed draped with silky sheets.

“I know you already know how important the mkeka is. And I want you to pass this down to your children’s children because we are living in a world that is evolving as the sun rises.”

As of this very moment, as I write this, very few of us do possess a mkeka and we all  know the cultural significance it has.

Mkeka’s importance in Swahili culture is also embedded with Islamic/Arabic culture. Mkeka is a woven mat, mostly used during the early days made from an indigenous palm tree found at the coastal parts of Africa. It comes from two Swahili words woven together- mke (woman) kaa(have a seat). Mkeka is mostly used as floor mat but it has other many usage such as wall hangings, table, prayer mats and on beds. But the most cardinal use is when one dies and it is used to wrap the body, then taken to grave.

Back in the day, a newly wed woman would be given one as a present for her new house. A brief reminder of the mkeka from grandmothers and aunts to her would go like this; “Mkeka huu, wafungua kwako, kama mama wa nyumba. Mkeka huu mtaswalia, mtakalia, mtalalia, mtapigana juu yake, mtapendana juu yake na
wakati wako ukifika wa kutokua mja hapa duniani, utakupeleka mpaka kwenye kaburi lako. Mtunze mkeka huu Kwani ndio ufunguo wa nyumba yako“(This mat will be of great significance to you as the mother of the house. You will play and pray on it,sleep on it,sit on it,cry on it, fight and love each other on it. And when your time to depart this world comes,this mat will carry you to the grave. Take good care of it as it is the key to your home).

These words are just an echo of what you’ve always known your entire life but now are transformed from being words to reality of the life one is about to embark after that day.

Mkeka nowadays has flourished from being a palm tree mat to sisal, string, clothes and many other materials. You will always find a mkeka in a mosque, the only thing separating the cold floor and one’s feet in the house of God.

Creativity has also played a huge part in mkeka evolution. You will get baskets, fancy wall hangings, table covers etc at coastal markets and other cultural shops. You will find it in Swahili houses but not on the floor. It will be wrapped somewhere in the corner, only used when necessary.

Mwacha mila ni mtumwa – A Swahili proverb.

So get your mkeka, be it for decoration, or any other personal use, beautify and preserve the culture.

Via NayNay.