My car has been through a lot, driven by many hands, Traveling diverse routes, facing potholes and deathly bends. It’s been tough, surviving punctures and rough rides, But now, it’s showing signs, secrets it no longer hides.
The steering wheel, once so familiar and warm, Now feels distant, like facing a brewing storm. The engine, once steady, now leaks strange oil, A metaphor, maybe, for a love spoiled.
I’ve loved this car, but it’s failed me in a way, It’s become a wreck, like a love gone astray. I fear driving it, scared it might fail, So, sadly, I must say goodbye, hit the trail.
It’s time for a change, a new start, a new lane, Where loyalty is strong, and trust doesn’t wane. So, with a heavy heart, I’ll let go of this ride, And find a new one, where love will abide.
Why am I shaking in town? I thought I was okay. Why do I feel like crying every time my mind switches to her?
She was just smiling. I mean, I saw her smile on that phone call.
And you know, I hear she was very happy while joking with her mates about how they’ll receive punishment if they don’t sing for God on Sunday.
She loves God, you know. I often hear her say how God has moved her, and I see that too….
She was at the scene from the Lord’s house, the church, of course. She had just received that good news that she shared with me before that heartbreaking call.
That call from Daktari wa Masomo, Dr. Bernard Alaka, forget that he’s called Bernard, ‘Boy’ sounds good on him… He told me, “Prince, Mum amepata accident. Find a cab, and I’ll send you money to come.”
I was heartbroken. I was like, “Didn’t she just finish praying to God, and even come here because of prayer?”
You know how sometimes you can question God, not blaming Him though… I felt mad. I was really angry.
Anyways, I took a cab and went. Everyone was there, all worried but happy because she was alive.
I went in to see her, and she said, “Baba, Bwana Asifiwe, Umekuja ?” I saw that from her lips; she was not able to speak.
What I saw wasn’t pleasing, but I felt hope! And the fact that members of the church were there with me till morning kept me strong.
I didn’t call any family member until morning. They all came; people came.
And when she saw people she knew, I saw her feeling strong. I know you’ll be fine, Mom, thanks to all for showing the love…
It’s made the two days that I have not slept completely feel like one minute.
Tell me, how many souls are graced with the tender name “babe” upon your lips? How many hearts beat to the rhythm of your love songs? Do you truly hold us all, all eight of us, in your heart ? Does fear not grip you, knowing the potential storms of entwined destinies?
I tremble. Do Kemunto’s confessions, laid bare on her Instagram stories, not sow seeds of doubt and fear within your own heart? How do you define love amidst the thorns of suffering that line your path? Your love seems a storm, lacking in solace, a relentless force that scars the soul. It could be that your love is but a riddle, a confusion of torment.
I ask again, to whom among us do you pledge your eternal troth? Am I but a pawn in your daily theater, a recipient of hollow promises and veiled deceits? Your justifications ring hollow in my ears. Who reigns supreme in the kingdom of your affections, and what pleasure do you glean from this complex dance of emotions? Does guilt not weigh heavy upon your soul? How do you go about this hammer-and-tongs sea of passion? In the end, I concede; it is your prerogative to chart your course as you see fit. My role in this drama reaches its final act. Who claims dominion over your heart?
Sometimes I ask, what are thoughts? This is especially true when they are negative. Someone said something to an audience. The audience thinks, “Why are you so negative in life?” Get some positivity and you are like, “I was not telling you that to give your view. I was just speaking to free myself from these endless thoughts.” Again, what are thoughts for if the best they can do is fill us with fear and trouble our minds tirelessly? Is it for caution, not fear, as we may perceive it? What are thoughts and what are they for?
Ian Gideyi is a nice fellow. He is an air load Master in the Kenya Airforce. He studied aviation and chose to donate his skills to protect the Nation. Is he not a fantastic and patriotic guy? Ian is that person you will always want to be next to. He is funny, bubbly, and talkative. He is wise and careful. He likely learned this in the forces or from experience. I don’t know…. Before I get to his appearance, he is quite disciplined and has an “I don’t care” attitude. That sounds like a paradox to someone who’s cautious. Ian is a lot more interesting and never boring. He wears a clean haircut with a little more hair at the centre of his circular head than on the edges. We used to call this style “pank.” Nowadays they call it a “fade.” He is short and dark. His girlfriend will surely define him as handsome. That is what a girlfriend does, blows their own horn. In the fast place she landed in that box because she thought he looks good. I am proud to walk around the streets holding his hands. Save all the qualities a woman may look for in a man, looks is always a point.
I haven’t known Ian for long. I knew of him before I met him. I often heard of him from my brother, Vin. What I would say is, I want to meet this guy. I finally met him. The last time I saw him was on a Thursday evening. I was at his place at White House Court, Umoja. He was from picking his well-maintained Toyota 110 from the mechanic and I was from work. I returned his weighing machine. We had borrowed it to weigh Vin’s luggage. We did so to ensure they did not pass the weight limit indicated on the air ticket. We wanted to avoid the embarrassment to bring back home the extras from the Airport. The weighing machine at a point helped and we packed well not to go against the stated requirements.
That evening, our conversations covered many things. They were about everything but women. I mean, men always talk about women when they are alone. This time, we talked about Vin’s recent trip to Poland. It led to a discussion on being careful and ready for anything. The conversation reminded me of a day when Ian was talking to Vin on how life can be funny. You leave for work and then you come back when you are no more. Vin’s response was, “why are you negative?” Ian told him he was not negative. He said he was speaking reality with courage. At this moment, when Ian was sharing, I reflected on things that have happened. I thought of my first day at M-Gas. We were crossing the road with a guy we had boarded a matatu with. I saw strife and hard work on his face as he made phone calls. He went first. I don’t want to say he was not careful. Or that he did not look at the road before crossing. Because I did not see where that Government Pick-Up truck came from. It knocked him down and he was lifeless. His family were waiting for him to get back home. Now, they were to go check if it was him in the cold slabs of the government mortuary. I saw a lot of accidents along Mombasa Road and Outering Road. The best I could do is feel sad and empathize with the family. All the victims were hopeful at some point. They were out for various reasons. They hoped to see their families in the evening. They were not negative. It happened. I don’t know if it is fate or if it’s the devil who lurks around sometimes. I don’t know. It happens and may their souls rest in peace.
These thoughts came to me because of what happened on Sunday, 25th, February 2024. My question is why that date of all dates. I don’t mean that some dates are bad and others are not. I mean this was the date Vin was supposed to leave for Poland for a better life (He did travel that night). It was not a coincidence, I think. I still fail to understand what it was. Vin was heading to Ian’s place. Ian lives a stone throw away from where Vin and I lived. Vin was heading there to say goodbye to some people he needed to bid farewell to. These people impacted and still impact his life. He used the same route that he uses to that place…..
Then, on that day, the watchman guarding the nearby garage decides to leave his dogs untied. The dogs, upon seeing an enemy, Vin , decided to prey on them. Vin ran. A lady who was walking next to him decided to be calm, as we are always told to be calm when dogs chase after us. Vin escaped the dog bite(s) but hurt his leg’s palm. The lady received many bites. The watchman or garage owner should be sued for letting harmful dogs roam. The dogs attacked them on a public road, not on private property. They were just walking, not invading. This incident made me think. If Vin was bitten, he would have not traveled and the chance would have gone. It was just God working miraculously and I thank Him daily. I pray for the woman to get healed and get justice. This all brings me to Ian’s caution. He says life can change in a jiffy. I realize it’s not always fear of the unknown. Sometimes it’s caution! So as Ian puts it, “Brace for Impact.”
Loving someone deeply, it’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, feeling the exhilarating rush of emotions while simultaneously trembling with fear of the unknown. You can sense the depth of your love, like a warm hug wrapping around your soul, but expressing it feels like navigating a puzzle of uncertainties.
The words “I love you” hang heavy on your tongue, like precious gems waiting to be unearthed, yet somehow they remain lodged in the depths of your heart, hesitant to escape. The thought of losing her sends shivers down your spine, like a chilling gust of wind sweeping through your core, leaving you breathless and anxious.
The titles of boyfriend or husband seem like weighty crowns, heavy with expectations and responsibilities you’re not sure you’re ready to bear. The idea of promising forever feels like building a castle on shifting sands, unsure if the foundation will hold against the relentless tides of time.
And the thought of her bearing your name, becoming Mrs. Okelo, feels like drawing a line in the sand, a boundary between the known and the unknown, between comfort and vulnerability. You know you want to be with her, to share your life and dreams, but something holds you back, like invisible chains tethering you to your fears and uncertainties.
You’re haunted by the specter of failed relationships, like ghosts from the past whispering tales of heartbreak and betrayal, leaving scars that refuse to fade. The fear of watching love turn to hate, of seeing the once cherished title of Mrs. Okelo into the bitter resentment of a proud Miss, cuts deep into your soul, a wound that never seems to heal.
But amidst the darkness of doubt and fear, there is a glimmer of hope, a flicker of courage burning bright within you. You want to confront these fears, to unravel their tangled web and emerge stronger on the other side. You may not know how to tackle it, or how you’ll survive it, but you’re willing to take that leap of faith, to face the unknown head-on, because love, true love, is worth every ounce of fear and uncertainty.
As a young boy, I yearned for a brother, likely because I already had a sister I adored more than my prized shoe collection. Stella, the family’s lightweight champion with a smile and hair as soft as a marshmallow cloud…Before I hit the ripe age of two, we welcomed Vin, a lad born just yesterday (figuratively speaking) who’s now towering over me. Vin, the soft-spoken man, has a peculiar fondness for slim ladies, possibly because he’s as slim as a flagpole with legs darker than a midnight eclipse but a face lighter than a vanilla cupcake. He’s on a perpetual quest to look forever young with his clean-shaven face and head, convinced it’s the secret to eternal youth – not about looking neat, definitely not my style! Vin, the scholarly cyber security guru with a passion for infosec, not only admires my universal knowledge but also endorses my fashion sense to every Tom, Dick, and Aguko. His heart belongs to a slim, light-skinned Hip-Hop aficionado who sprinkles rich kid vibes like small pieces of colored paper, making me wonder how Vin copes as we, mere Village boys, attempt to blend into these urban jungles.
We, the dynamic sibling duo, grew up with the usual share of bickering, but let me tell you, I adore this brother of mine, and I’m convinced he secretly loves me back. Since completing his education, we’ve been living in a middle-class settlement in Umoja, Nairobi, indulging in our mutual fondness for each other. I practically have withdrawal symptoms when he’s away for too long, and just to clarify for the skeptics, I’m straight, and Vin is simply the son of my mother who I have every right to miss.
In this thrilling surge of chords, Vin, after enduring the nail-biting suspense of scholarship applications, struck academic gold on the illustrious date of August 1, 2023, he excitedly learned about his ticket to educational adventure in Poland. It’s almost like winning the lottery, but instead of cash, it’s a golden ticket to the world of master’s studies in some mysterious realm of information technology.
As Vin prepares to embark on this epic journey, I find myself torn between doing a happy dance for his success and composing a ballad dedicated to the impending void his absence will create in our everyday antics. The thought of him navigating Polish streets, perhaps learning to dance to a different beat in a Rhumba-less land, evokes both pride and a twinge of wistfulness.
We, the dynamic duo raised in the chaotic settlement of our shared childhood, now find ourselves at the crossroads of individual pursuits. Vin, armed with a passion for cyber security and a heart that beats in binary, is about to dive into the academic unknown. Meanwhile, I remain the proud, albeit slightly forlorn, supporter, sending waves of encouragement across continents and eagerly awaiting tales of his European escapades.
Our humble abode in Umoja, Nairobi, will undoubtedly echo with the ghostly laughter of shared jokes and the absence of late-night discussions on the profound (and the profoundly silly). While I’ll miss his kinks and our daily brotherhood, I am genuinely thrilled for Vin’s next chapter, which promises to be a tale of academic conquests, cultural revelations, and a few probably mispronounced Polish phrases.
So, here’s to you, Vin, my academic gladiator! As you march into the unknown, may you conquer each algorithm and triumph over every coding challenge. Remember to savor the taste of pierogi, dance like no one’s watching (but maybe someone is, so be careful), and make memories that will become legends we share over future holiday dinners.
As the calendar flips its pages, and the departure date approaches, I find solace in knowing that distance can’t dim the glow of sibling affection. Through the magic of technology, we’ll bridge the physical miles with virtual laughter, sharing the highs and lows of our respective worlds. Poland, get ready for the Vin invasion – it’s about to get a dose of Village charm!
Dear Vin, while my heart is brimming with farewells, it swells with pride for the fantastic journey you’re about to embark upon. So, go forth, my brother, embrace the adventure, and may the bytes of success and happiness always be in your favor. Give it your quirkiest best, and remember, no matter how far you roam, you’ll always have a Village-sized space in my heart. Safe travels, academic explorer! I love you, man!
@okelododdychitchats
This is my all village at the airport…Travel safe man! Be safe and do what you’re good at…It will only get better with time
Today, it’s been 22 years since he departed, But God, weren’t you her confidant, her friend? Why pluck her beloved on Valentine’s Day, When you had countless other days to choose from? Could you not have spared her this heartache, Just for one more day, one day to hold dear?
We’ve been taught not to question your ways, To accept your will as the ultimate decree. But forgive me for feeling this is unjust, Is this why your friendships are so few?
My anger rises, for she was still so young, Just embarking on life’s journey with her family. With young children, the eldest barely five, She hadn’t yet found her footing, her stride.
Then, like a sudden storm, death swept in, And snatched away her partner, her soulmate. How can this be fair, to leave her With shadows on a day meant for love’s celebration?
As others stroll hand in hand, Amidst fragrant blooms and tender caresses, She cloaks herself in sorrow’s shroud, Haunted by the ghost of that day.
Even after 22 years, the pain remains fresh, As if it happened just a breath ago. She clings to his last words, his final touch, His essence lingering like a bittersweet melody.
She recalls how his eyelids closed, Never to flutter open again, And how he lay, his head gently tilted, Upon the Agha Khan, Kisumu bed, As he breathed his final breath.
Death, they say, is a passage we all must tread, But why, oh why, choose Valentine’s Day?
okelododdychitchats 