Still my peroz were not convinced about me leaving. Why would I go all that way, for what? A 3 months attachment?
But trust me I needed this. More than ever!
I was loosing my shit.
From a toxic relationship ,to drugs ,to being assaulted and then getting involved with a girl?
That last was what took me out completely. I couldn’t get it off my head. That night I had an overdose but no matter how much I tried to tell myself that…I didn’t wanna hear about it either!
Every morning I woke up thinking about that shit and it haunt real bad.
Too much for the exploring…
Suicidal is what I was becoming day by day.
I wanted out.
Drugs will do that to you.
Thank God for being a first child, there is no being babied here. You insist and you are asked how much? You give a figure…a reasonable amount least you are asked to ‘kaa kando kwanza, because ‘you are not the only child’.
First stop to uni, pick my attachment papers and my stuff from my best friends place.
She was giving me all the reasons to stay and her high ass was laughing through words.
‘Stay…you can’t run away from your problems,’ she kept saying and I stared at space a little trying to reason with her.
But No!
This time I’m making one final bad decision, if I die I die.
So we light a final one laughing on her balcony as she lies to me how kilifi has mud houses.
She was saying the most for me to stay, but no boo kumethoka, I have to leave…
I take one for the road and hit the road .
Damn! It’s 30 minutes left before my bus leaves. There’s traffic, I have a million luggages, it’s drizzling, getting dark, and my highness can’t even see clear! Combination utachizi
In Nairobi if you are late you are just late! You sit there be humble and don’t tell a tout nothing because they have the best comebacks to ruin your day. That is part of their job!
The driver is chewing Mirra and living his best life with all sorts of Kikuyu songs on that cassette. Kikuyus be having the nerves really.
I become impatient and tell the dere ‘Si unishukishe apo tomboya.’
He sneers and my lips do that thing a toddler do when they want to cry.
So I just chill and wait for life to take its course.
We are taken rounds and rounds in the beautiful city before it decides to pack the damn car.
If you are cat-walking in this city of Nai~robbery with your bag flying from side to side then you really won’t be loving yourself OR you are rich, filthy rich.
The radar here is to walk as if somebody is chasing you and you hold your bag tight close to your breasts.
Because I swear the thieves here are dressed in suits.
This city will show you things!
Surely, there is nothing like crocodile tears. The moment I ask if my bus was still there and i’m told it left and my ticket is expired tears form and I become numb.
It’s just January and people are happy from their reunions with their families so I save them the drama and go aside to compose myself.
The signs were now clear that this journey wasn’t meant for me.
As in kama kitu sio yako sio yako…
But I’m telling you a girl had set her mind and it was kuomoka,by fire by force..
So there are two options; I either cut for another ticket or take a nduthi and catch up with the bus as it was still caught up with traffic somewhere.
My smart ass decides I’m not wasting another bus fare. I was going to chase after a bus, literally!
One motorbike ahead with my luggage and me on the other, speeding like my life depended on this. Non stop, its drizzling, no helmet and small stones kept hitting my face…holding tight and overtaking buses like we were in a rally!
Wow, what is this life?
I didn’t even ask for it!
I wished a bus could just run over us. Poor guy was tryna get me to catch a bus while his companion was wishing for death.
Trust nobody!
The wind brought me back sober to make sure I felt the pain of all this…
At a petrol station is where we saw the bus. Finally. Thank God.
I ask them how much and boooyyyyy… Rule number one, you DON’T dare hop on a motorbike without asking ‘ni how much’. This nigga was spitting, did he just say 750 each? Kwani was i flying… because that is 1500! Equal the money I’d have used to just cut for another bus ticket.
I played myself!
No time to argue. I pay them and the mzungu driver who was already opening the side boot of the car asks me to hurry up. I show my ticket and he says, ‘That luggage you’ll pay for it.’ Wauz just wau! This was the real definition of ‘kutoboka doo.’
I don’t even check my mpesa balance, fear of heart attack.
It is what it is, we are going!
I had had enough of this other side of the country. I wanted the other part…
001 I’m coming..
Best friend calling, I hit decline because I really need to get my seat and organise myself. My phone beeps severally and I decide to switch it off because I swear was going to scream.
My hair was all up because of the wind from that moto fuckin aeroplane. Why are people that inhumane though?
I looked horrible, I didn’t even need a mirror.
Two things I had to put away at this point; a mirror and my phone! The last thing I wanted was to be met with my black lips in the mirror and to be reminded that the only way to stop them from turning dark was to quit the herb and no… I wasn’t willing to go down that path yet. Instead I sought to use ndimu to scrab them to go back to normal because shit lowered my esteem big time…
And the other thing is foshoo, social media never forgets! Being a celebrity or rich really helps at your lowest points in life, because then you have PR that takes care of your reputation and guides you through. But when you are a common mwananchi like me, you deal with it and take care of your reputation by all means.
If you decide to get high or drunk and send nudes or flirt recklessly, that’s on you.
You’ll sober up and beat yourself about it.
Like that and that every day.
First stop over, people are getting food, getting relieved and catching some air. I find a spot behind the washrooms in some bush to light my ‘one for the road’.
We arrive at almost 6 in the Morning. In a land where you know nobody.
I decide to freshen up in a hotel before I start searching for a ka bedsitter.
Why are people eating viazi and soup in the morning? Ah maybe they are those drunk men who sleep at the bar and are just having breakfast. I think to myself.
The waiter comes and I ask her what they have, she says, viazi bhajia and something ukwaju.
Walaaa! This was the life here. I had just asked for a new life and maybe a new breath but now a new diet? That’s a bonus.
I already love it here.
My expectations of kilifi wasn’t what I saw but I knew better than to overlook it! Beggars can’t be choosers.
My budget was already messed up so I had to choose one thing and leave the other. Rent a house, buy no cooker. To survive my guy!
And on the second weekend I decide to go to the beach and ease all my stress you know. The wazungu way of staring at space, oceans, waves and all those kosokosos.
But it wasn’t working on me! I felt so heavy inside.
Mine needed to be dealt with the African way of ‘sit down and think about what you have done’.
… As in I really thought that a problem that I had created for months was going to find a breakthrough in a day of staring at water? Jokes on me.
But trust me I needed this. More than ever!
I was loosing my shit.
From a toxic relationship ,to drugs ,to being assaulted and then getting involved with a girl?
That last was what took me out completely. I couldn’t get it off my head. That night I had an overdose but no matter how much I tried to tell myself that…I didn’t wanna hear about it either!
Every morning I woke up thinking about that shit and it haunt real bad.
Too much for the exploring…
Suicidal is what I was becoming day by day.
I wanted out.
Drugs will do that to you.
Thank God for being a first child, there is no being babied here. You insist and you are asked how much? You give a figure…a reasonable amount least you are asked to ‘kaa kando kwanza, because ‘you are not the only child’.
First stop to uni, pick my attachment papers and my stuff from my best friends place.
She was giving me all the reasons to stay and her high ass was laughing through words.
‘Stay…you can’t run away from your problems,’ she kept saying and I stared at space a little trying to reason with her.
But No!
This time I’m making one final bad decision, if I die I die.
So we light a final one laughing on her balcony as she lies to me how kilifi has mud houses.
She was saying the most for me to stay, but no boo kumethoka, I have to leave…
I take one for the road and hit the road .
Damn! It’s 30 minutes left before my bus leaves. There’s traffic, I have a million luggages, it’s drizzling, getting dark, and my highness can’t even see clear! Combination utachizi
In Nairobi if you are late you are just late! You sit there be humble and don’t tell a tout nothing because they have the best comebacks to ruin your day. That is part of their job!
The driver is chewing Mirra and living his best life with all sorts of Kikuyu songs on that cassette. Kikuyus be having the nerves really.
I become impatient and tell the dere ‘Si unishukishe apo tomboya.’
He sneers and my lips do that thing a toddler do when they want to cry.
So I just chill and wait for life to take its course.
We are taken rounds and rounds in the beautiful city before it decides to pack the damn car.
If you are cat-walking in this city of Nai~robbery with your bag flying from side to side then you really won’t be loving yourself OR you are rich, filthy rich.
The radar here is to walk as if somebody is chasing you and you hold your bag tight close to your breasts.
Because I swear the thieves here are dressed in suits.
This city will show you things!
Surely, there is nothing like crocodile tears. The moment I ask if my bus was still there and i’m told it left and my ticket is expired tears form and I become numb.
It’s just January and people are happy from their reunions with their families so I save them the drama and go aside to compose myself.
The signs were now clear that this journey wasn’t meant for me.
As in kama kitu sio yako sio yako…
But I’m telling you a girl had set her mind and it was kuomoka,by fire by force..
So there are two options; I either cut for another ticket or take a nduthi and catch up with the bus as it was still caught up with traffic somewhere.
My smart ass decides I’m not wasting another bus fare. I was going to chase after a bus, literally!
One motorbike ahead with my luggage and me on the other, speeding like my life depended on this. Non stop, its drizzling, no helmet and small stones kept hitting my face…holding tight and overtaking buses like we were in a rally!
Wow, what is this life?
I didn’t even ask for it!
I wished a bus could just run over us. Poor guy was tryna get me to catch a bus while his companion was wishing for death.
Trust nobody!
The wind brought me back sober to make sure I felt the pain of all this…
At a petrol station is where we saw the bus. Finally. Thank God.
I ask them how much and boooyyyyy… Rule number one, you DON’T dare hop on a motorbike without asking ‘ni how much’. This nigga was spitting, did he just say 750 each? Kwani was i flying… because that is 1500! Equal the money I’d have used to just cut for another bus ticket.
I played myself!
No time to argue. I pay them and the mzungu driver who was already opening the side boot of the car asks me to hurry up. I show my ticket and he says, ‘That luggage you’ll pay for it.’ Wauz just wau! This was the real definition of ‘kutoboka doo.’
I don’t even check my mpesa balance, fear of heart attack.
It is what it is, we are going!
I had had enough of this other side of the country. I wanted the other part…
001 I’m coming..
Best friend calling, I hit decline because I really need to get my seat and organise myself. My phone beeps severally and I decide to switch it off because I swear was going to scream.
My hair was all up because of the wind from that moto fuckin aeroplane. Why are people that inhumane though?
I looked horrible, I didn’t even need a mirror.
Two things I had to put away at this point; a mirror and my phone! The last thing I wanted was to be met with my black lips in the mirror and to be reminded that the only way to stop them from turning dark was to quit the herb and no… I wasn’t willing to go down that path yet. Instead I sought to use ndimu to scrab them to go back to normal because shit lowered my esteem big time…
And the other thing is foshoo, social media never forgets! Being a celebrity or rich really helps at your lowest points in life, because then you have PR that takes care of your reputation and guides you through. But when you are a common mwananchi like me, you deal with it and take care of your reputation by all means.
If you decide to get high or drunk and send nudes or flirt recklessly, that’s on you.
You’ll sober up and beat yourself about it.
Like that and that every day.
First stop over, people are getting food, getting relieved and catching some air. I find a spot behind the washrooms in some bush to light my ‘one for the road’.
We arrive at almost 6 in the Morning. In a land where you know nobody.
I decide to freshen up in a hotel before I start searching for a ka bedsitter.
Why are people eating viazi and soup in the morning? Ah maybe they are those drunk men who sleep at the bar and are just having breakfast. I think to myself.
The waiter comes and I ask her what they have, she says, viazi bhajia and something ukwaju.
Walaaa! This was the life here. I had just asked for a new life and maybe a new breath but now a new diet? That’s a bonus.
I already love it here.
My expectations of kilifi wasn’t what I saw but I knew better than to overlook it! Beggars can’t be choosers.
My budget was already messed up so I had to choose one thing and leave the other. Rent a house, buy no cooker. To survive my guy!
And on the second weekend I decide to go to the beach and ease all my stress you know. The wazungu way of staring at space, oceans, waves and all those kosokosos.
But it wasn’t working on me! I felt so heavy inside.
Mine needed to be dealt with the African way of ‘sit down and think about what you have done’.
… As in I really thought that a problem that I had created for months was going to find a breakthrough in a day of staring at water? Jokes on me.
