waruguru wa kiai

My Puppy love collection. #oi #mapenz

When things were good…

I was doing four things when I saw him looking tall and fine
like a healthy potato that will fetch a good price at the market.

I was battling with ‘ffene’ that annoying yet devastatingly sweet fruit from Uganda
ripping the sticky ‘flesh’ with my teeth,poking the seeks away with my greedy hands.

I was also shaking my head back and forth and grinding my buttocks to the sounds of ‘ngwea kimya Kimya’
chanting ‘mikasi…mitungi’ occasionally rising to dance along to ‘Dar Mpaka Moro’

I was enjoying the Uganda sun,basking like a shameless lizard turning this way and that way to make sure the sun caressed me E-V-E-R-Y-W-H-E-R-E.

I was being truant,in my infinite wisdom I had decided not to be attending afternoon lectures
In fact I had concluded that to attend a Human Rights Lecture at three in the afternoon was a violation of my Human Rights.

it was while I was doing all those things that I met him,the boy who stole my heart, the very same one who threw my heart off a moving Akamba Bus.

 

There were really good…

About this guy-yes its always about Adam’s race!
I remember,fine as a new note from the bank he was
his chest chiseled to near perfection,his color
flowed like chocolate lava,his eyes shone brighter than the future
and his fine waist line that would then introduce a perfect rear-oh my forgive me for I have sinned-dreams I had for that waist…fine-fine-fine!
allow me a moment to recover my reason…

At first he was just like them,nothing out of the ordinary
irritating indeed,with his fine pressed suits and manners coupled with a reasonable command of the Master’s language.
I was doing fine all by myself!
it was them though-the other girl’s-I blame them,
always chattering about him-this guy  this, this guy that, Oh that guy…
it was then that my eyes noticed him.
There I was seated under the mango tree wishing near death experience to my Lecturer who always insisted on afternoon lectures under the blazing Uganda sun-god will punish him I always declared!
there he was-the walking chocolate sweet looking fine fine!
I could have kept my composure,
I could have maintained my senses-all of them-I swear!
had he not walked confidently towards me,exposing his enchanting dimples as he smiled,
as soon as he said hello…
I said goodbye to myself.

But that was then,
then why I flew like the flying Dutchman-that world cup guy- when he held me
or when he waited for me to finish my lessons-I didn’t mean no harm- but walking with a fine species escorted by no so happy female eyes,gave me a good kick,but don’t we all!
and I never missed any rugby match-of course he was going to be there with his tight shirt and tight other things…
until that day he asked me to abandon my path of life for his…
that moment I knew,I could never quit me, not even for that shameless six pack,
and so he left…
and I left.
I do not remember him-I swear, only when I cut my birthday cake,
I just had to share a birthday with the dude, damn!

 

and when they went south…there was never a north!

There is this boy I knew
tall and kind,or so it seemed
with warm hands that set my heart on fire
and lips that killed my knees.

Back then,miles away in Museveni’s land
This boy tore up my chest, plucked my heart and
left with it. I was left cold yet warm
dead only alive in his arms,my heart was at home
in his pocket.

This boy remained true to his race
for even though my heart was in his pocket
He plucked other hearts and kept them.
when he left that evening
sited in that yellow Akamba bus
He reached for his pocket
grabbed and dangled my heart on his hands,then
He threw it out the window.

My heart rolled on the streets
ducking speeding boda boda
you should have seen me run after my heart
desperate…

I found my heart,dying
next to rotting garbage
wounded,humiliated
cold…

I cried for my heart
Then I took my heart
wiped and soothed it
I cut open my chest
and painfully stitched back my heart.

When you see Him,tell him
my heart beats cold
but tell him my heart beats
strong!

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  1. grace

    African writing has a special place in my heart. Your work is exceptional. Makes for very interesting reading. Great material, perfect context.


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