She possessed the face of the most enchanting women,
Her voice, a melodious symphony that outshone trumpets,
A smile that could outshine even the brightest stars,
Her complexion, a flawless canvas, a portrait of perfection.
Her figure was a masterpiece, sharp and sculpted, reminiscent of fanta bamboocha, women in their prime.
Her beauty had the power to stop the rotation of the Earth itself.

She was a vision of such stunning allure,
A beauty that could make anyone question their own existence in the image of God,
For her beauty was nothing short of divine,
Yet, beneath the surface, there was something amiss,
People who delved into her world found nothing but her physical charm,
No intellect to engage with, no wisdom to impart,
They criticized her hygiene, lamented about her perfectly-manicured yet impractical nails,
Her house in perpetual disarray, with food rubbing shoulders with dirty socks.

She was a sight to behold, a temptation impossible to resist,
But being with her, they found, was a discomforting ordeal,
They came, they saw, and they added to her list, her body count,
She must have suffered in silence,
Why didn’t they simply tell her?
Perhaps, she might have changed her ways,
For we all know that at that stage, there was little hope for her mind to evolve.

@okelododdychitchats

I was engrossed in one of Biko Zulu’s pieces on men and marriage, and let me tell you, I adore Biko Zulu – well, not in the “let’s get married” way, but I have mad respect for his work. In Africa, you see, a man can’t just go around saying he loves another man, even if it’s brotherly love. But I owe my admiration for Biko’s work to my brother, Stephen Ochieng, AKA Bache or if you like SOO_Ochieng.

So, I delved into Biko’s words, reading between the lines, and what I found was a revelation. It’s so darn normal for us men to bear our burdens in silence. We carry these heavy loads and perish quietly – like suffering in silence is our superpower. You see, as an African man, it’s like a cardinal sin to open up about your struggles, whether to your buddies or someone you hold dear to your heart. In our society, it’s practically written in stone that men shouldn’t be vulnerable. Go on, break that mold, and you’re labeled as weak, and nobody wants that on their name.

Don’t get me wrong; these aren’t just my thoughts. No, siree! It’s what our African society believes in. None of us wants to let the side down. I certainly don’t, and neither do you. So, I won’t be the guy who puts a dent in the armor of societal expectations. I’m not about to spill my financial woes and admit to being broke. That’s not how an African man rolls, my friends. But aisulu…

In this wild ride called life, it’s like the only way to score a touchdown is by being swimming-in-money successful. Forget all those tales about acing the national exams and securing your golden ticket to the Land of Success. It’s a beautiful lie. The real world? It’s more like a labyrinth of absurdity, and I mean it’s a real maze out there, folks. Sometimes it’s colder than a penguin’s kiss, and it can get depressingly gloomy. Success isn’t just handed to you on a silver platter; you’ve got to snatch it like the last piece of pizza at a party.

Now, I’m a young fella in his mid-twenties, and I’ve been on this never-ending quest to find my path. I’d like to say I’m making enough, but hold your horses; I’m not living the high life. My pockets aren’t exactly bulging with cash. I mean, I’m making enough to pay the rent and leave me with a handful of coins to survive on. Yep, that’s right, just enough to keep the landlord happy. I sometimes roll the dice with my transport and food expenses. But let’s get real, all they see is a well-dressed dude, thinking I’m living the dream. Ha, if only they knew that my second-hand shoe business is my lifeline, often collapsing due to my uncanny ability to snack on the capital.

With the meager earnings I scrape together, every now and then, I want to show my body some love, you know, apologize for the tough times. And during these moments, I’d love to have a charming lady by my side. They say life’s a tad dull without some female company. Is it true? Well, I’d love to let her in on my financial status, make her feel comfortable, and maybe even give those blue Subaru owners a run for their money – quite literally with my two-wheel footshoebishi. I want her to be content with my financial situation, but is that even feasible? Not really, my friends. The life I’m living is no hand-to-mouth existence; it’s more like scraping-the-bottom-of-the-barrel broke. The only thing that keeps my spirits high is my killer fashion sense, but let’s be honest, you can’t chew on style when hunger strikes. So, fashion, step aside, and let money take the wheel!

But here’s the kicker – I’m not just craving money to squash hunger pangs. With money, those growls will turn into purrs. I want to savor the finer things in life. Who doesn’t want to revel in the sweet joys of life, unless you’ve taken a crash course in madness? Beyond a cozy home, swanky cars, and smart investments, I want to impress the ladies, explore every nook and cranny, and dance the night away at those swanky shindigs. I want to savor my youth, just as the Bible advises, and in the wise words of Swahili, “Ujana ni Moshi.” I want to live it up, not waste it.

But here’s the catch – I’m flat broke. I can barely keep my head above water with these measly paychecks, and don’t even get me started on the taxes imposed by our “nabii” government, trying to tax a nation into prosperity – like trying to squeeze blood from a stone. My saving grace might just be finding some wisdom in the depths of this financial quagmire. So, to my fellow comrades of my age, you know, the ones comfortably ensconced in your luxurious cars, leading the high life, please, for the love of all that’s holy, share your wisdom with us, my friends! We’re all in the same leaky boat, navigating these turbulent waters, and we could certainly use a guiding star to help us chart our course through the stormy seas of financial distress.

@okelododdychitchats

In the window shades of life, there exists a yearning, a yearning so profound that it weaves itself into the very fabric of our hearts. It’s a yearning we all share, a desire that dances with the stars and lingers in the shadows. It’s the wish, the fervent dream, to be with that one special person, to hold them close, to be the answer to their unspoken questions.

I wish I could,
I wish I could see you every day,
For in your presence, my world finds its way.
I wish I could hold you by my side at any time,
To feel your warmth, your spirit, so divine.

I wish I could respond to your calls at any time,
To hear your voice, your laughter, so sublime.
I wish I could speak to you all day,
In your words, I find solace, come what may.

I wish I could be the answer to all your life questions,
To guide you through uncertainties, make suggestions.
I wish I could be the solution to all your problems,
To ease your burdens, as life ebbs and becomes.

I wish I could be a relief to all your pains,
To wipe away your tears, your worries and your chains.
I wish I could be your smile at all times,
To see your joy, your happiness, your chimes.

I wish I could be your everything,
Because, girl, you are the best thing,
That has ever happened to me, my precious jewel,
My unweathering flower, my heart’s renewal.

And I wish, with all my heart, that this feeling never changes,
For you are my love, my light, in life’s endless exchanges.

@okelododdychitchats

In quiet moments beside her, I cautiously drew near,
Unaware she’d sense my presence, her perception crystal clear.
Her gaze, like spears of lightning, penetrated my core,
Leaving me dumbfounded, unable to meet her eyes once more.

My heart raced wildly, uncertain if it was a ruse,
Her eyes, a gentle furnace, left me perplexed and confused.
As minutes turned to hours, my longing grew profound,
But I dared not glance upward, my gaze tethered to the ground.

Yet, the unspoken tension between us seemed to grow,
A connection, an allure, impossible to forgo.
In the stillness of that moment, an unspoken tale,
Where hearts danced to the rhythm of an invisible trail.

Should I break this silence, or let it linger on,
Unveil the emotions we share, in shadows they’ve withdrawn?
In that profound stillness, our destiny remains unsure,
Two souls bound by unspoken words, a deep allure.

@okelododdychitchats

In a different world,
I found myself inclined to oppose my convictions,
Perhaps even falling in love once more.

She embodied the very essence of virtue,
A living embodiment of heavenly sustenance.
Her beauty knew no bounds, a fusion of form and intellect,
Radiating allure and reason’s grace.

She possessed a distinctive hallmark that distinguished her from others of her ilk,
Calm,
Poised,
Grounded,
And not only visually captivating but also a delight to listen to.

She was a dream, distinct from that of Martin Luther King Jr., yet a dream worth cherishing.

@okelododdychitchats

In my youngish days, confidence seemed an elusive star,
But my upbringing, woven with care and love, set me on a unique path.
With access to all life’s offerings, yet missing self-assurance’s glow,
I struggled to grasp the courage to seize opportunities and let my inner light show.

My ebony skin, unfairly associated with “ugly” by society’s decree,
I felt like a shadow in broad daylight, my ears and nose too prominently free.
Unaware of the treasures hidden within, I was lost in those throes,
Unseen beauty and potential, hidden beneath society’s imposed woes.

Then, fate intervened with the gift of fashion, my life’s turning key,
It became my voice, a conduit for self-expression and discovery.
With style and purpose, I walked the streets with newfound grace,
Fashion bestowed a name upon me, a new identity, a radiant face.

Slowly, I started to see myself through a clearer lens,
A masterpiece of God’s creation, with no need for amends.
Tall, dark, and handsome, I met the world’s admiring gaze,
Transformed from a timid boy to a confident young man, in a triumphant blaze.

Embracing self-love and the journey to find my inner core,
I realized confidence wasn’t about appearance, but the heart’s grandeur.
So, with newfound wisdom, I stepped into my own splendid story,
A journey of self-discovery, wrapped in love, grace, and glory.

@okelododdychitchats

Imagine, if you will, a young man venturing into a world where femininity rules with grace, a narrative as intriguing as it is poetic. Picture this voyage, for my tale unfolds in this enchanting domain.

Surrounded by youth and beauty, I was like a lone star amidst a constellation of radiant comets. How did I feel, you ask? At first, I confess, it was a bewildering trek. Like a fawn wandering amidst the regal lionesses, I pondered how to navigate this realm. How to safeguard my dignity, keeping far from the siren call of workplace gossip.

As we fast forward through the chapters of my story, I can now reveal the outcome. Temptations, like beguiling sirens, whispered tantalizing secrets in my ear. They claimed I was blessed with a simple task – to deceive, not for love, but to fully satisfy ‘sexual desires,’ as they coyly phrased it.

Now, you might assume that the allure of these lovely ladies proved too irresistible. Believe it or not, I triumphed over that unending thirst. Admittedly, they were enchanting, their charm a compelling force. The allure of some playful negotiation beckoned like a hidden treasure. Yet, I heeded my mother’s wisdom, a lighthouse guiding me through the rocky waters of desire. She always urged restraint, especially in the workplace, to spare me the turmoil that might unfold.

And so, in this realm where femininity’s grace holds sway, I emerged unscathed, my mother’s voice my constant guide. I navigated a unique world, finding my place in the poetry of life’s curious narrative.

@okelododdychitchats

How can you tell I’m fresh off the village trail?
Is it my deep Luo accent that tips the scale?
Or the way I gawk at tall city heights,
And marvel at kitchens with shiny delights?

You see, I’m used to thatched roofs and smoky air,
Not frequencies and gadgets, it’s quite a despair.
So, come on, tell me, why am I from the sticks?
Is it my bafflement when modern talk quickly ticks?

My fashion sense? Well, it’s work in progress, you see,
Since we first met, I’ve aimed for a style less “country.”
And when I stroll, do I look like a dog confused?
Checking out town girls, perhaps I’m easily amused.

Now, what’s that brown flour they put on their face?
It transforms them, adds a touch of beauty.
As for wooing their hearts, do I stand a chance?
Or must I sell ancestral land for romance’s advance?

So, my friend, tell me, how do you know I’m from the rural lot?
The village boy in the city, adjusting quite a lot!

@okelododdychitchats

Today, let’s dive into the past, my high school days,
Where wearing well fitting trousers caused quite breach.
Did our teachers not grasp the style game we played?
Or were they in the dark about being well-arrayed?

And what’s the deal with shoes minus any laces?
Seems they wanted to keep us in our places,
But I still ponder why these things led to disgraces.
Kenyan schools, truly unique, in peculiar cases.

Now I’m stuck, contemplating my bygone skills,
My art of seduction, with teenage thrills.
Thinking being nice to a lady was the key,
And yakking ’bout school, our strategy.

I had multiple “relationships” in my claim,
Though I hardly said a thing, just the same.
Believing phone numbers would win a heart,
A pocketful of letters, works of art.

Side hugs, the highlight of a week or more,
We’d boast about them, our trophies to adore.
Holding hands made us feel like kings,
Claiming academic chats had romantic wings.

We conquered hearts with empty pockets and brains,
Unbelievable how we danced without the reins.
So what’s changed, what’s new in the present day?
Is it still the same in the teenage fray?

@okelododdychitchats

In the quiet chambers of my soul, a spark did dwell,
Lingering, dormant, in a silent, secret spell.
But then, fate intervened with a touch of grace,
A meeting so divine, in her enchanting embrace.

Her beauty, a canvas painted by the stars,
Her intellect, a symphony played on nature’s guitars.
She breathed life into that spark, so tender and small,
And it danced and flickered, heedless of all.

In her presence, I felt a warmth, a light so pure,
A flame born of admiration and allure.
With every thought of her, it grew, untamed,
A radiant fire that in my heart was named.

She, the catalyst, the muse, the guiding star,
Ignited passions I had kept hidden, afar.
In her, I found a world anew, a different shore,
A flame transformed, burning forevermore.

So, in this tale of love’s profound decree,
A spark met its destiny, to be forever free,
In the glow of her presence, brilliantly it came,
A love so bright, ignited by her name.

@okelododdychitchats