In the radiant ambience of the bustling city; where city lights ran to the horizon, where clubs operate on a roll, where PSV’s play Russian roulette, where streets have a penchant for scandals, where everyone is trying to get by, where hungry tummies growl under suave outfits, where ‘kanjos’ lurk in thirst for misdemeanors, where supple waist night players twinkle, where tempers glare in wait for an ignite, where bloggers and KOT try to determine ‘who’s bag was on who’s plane’, where novice newbies are initiated in due time, where frauds will tag you bro before swindling you off, where exclusively precocious minds thrive, where bus prices will double in a whim, where identical thigh tattoos whet appetites, where cat fish victims throng Archives or Ken-com, I could sing for you only I don’t have the voice and I’m skeptical about you having the time. This eclectic city where everyone is trying to be someone and handful rummage in murky pursuit of finding their someone; beyond men that insist on going Dutch on dates. Women redundantly getting socks for their not so significant others on Birthdays and Valentines. Gratified bodies making Irish exits the ‘morning after’. Wallets having a habit of being ‘forgotten’ at home. Tinder profiles conveying more Rihanna and Idris Elba faces. Where everyone is in an undisclosed polyamorous relationship. Beyond all the tomfoolery and chaos you’re finding yourself and someone. A mysterious someone.
Flowers are neatly placed on your desk, again, purple ones this time, a complimentary box of cookies on the side and a note that says ‘Dearly beloved, you’re royalty – I figured I’d go with purple today.’ I hope you read that in a baritone or tenor voice, it would be sad if you don’t. This is novel to you the closest someone showed this level of commitment to you was half a decade ago when you were seeing Kimani but he cut ties before a vacay to Mombasa. Reason – his mom said no. Why – she hasn’t moved on from an uncle who drowned in the ocean in 1954, crazy right? You take the cookies – tasty, as you dive Into pensiveness of trying to put a face to this prudent guy, you always try albeit futile. Last time it was blue flowers and a cake. The other time was white flowers and chocolate. Orchids, Roses, Irises and a good range of petals have come your way but nothing comes close to the exotic Hibiscus and a Teddy bear he sent on Mother’s Day, talk about making an effort. Then it promptly hits you. Wait, how did he know you were a mom, a single mom?
There were no flowers the next morning, unusual. Maybe he overslept, maybe he reached an impasse ama maybe he just had a ‘gift block’, you know – like writer’s block but for gift ideas. If the boss adds more files to your desk you swear to fling them at her heavily done face, she draws her eye brows too high she looks like Patrick, from SpongeBob. She’s been on your case over trivial matters. You think; This ugly woman always nagging me. She must be jealous of my flowers. Ati my short hair is not good for the brand, what brand b***h! Huh, she needs to get laid! You work through the stack of files and by the time you’re done with the last one, the office echoes on your yawn – it’s 10.00 PM.
You request an Uber as the last thing you need is a stuffy PSV with all shades of odor. The driver; a much younger guy offers a handshake. You stare at his hands, weighing where they’ve been, at the same time you don’t want to be rude so you will shake his hand, begrudgingly and after a couple of minutes covertly smudge yours in sanitizer, he’ll notice and will smile to that.
“Naitwa Hawi,” he’ll say.
“I know, I saw your name on the app,” you return feeling woozy, like you had shots of hard liquor.
It gets worse by the minute and you are now slipping in and out of consciousness, gibbers crawling out of your mouth like leaking tap, drop by drop. Your hands go numb, eyelids become heavy and just before you pass out, he’ll open the glove box pull out exotic Hibiscus flowers and out the lights will go.
I’ve been feeling lacklustre lately, so if you read my post yesterday before I pulled it down, my bad.