“…Hardships are common. Titans sink…”
Hello, Reader. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I wouldn’t call it a minute because that would be a gross understatement. It has been many minutes. I trust you have been well. I have. I’ve been looking for a friend, though. A confidant if you will. An ear to listen, two if the other one’s free. Know anyone? Or, is you anyone? If yes, awesome! If no… awful for me then, the search continues. I tried the craigslist Kenya website a while back and yes, not the best resolve to go online for such. You know what they say about necessity though… she’s a mother. And I needed the intervention. I’d do without the invention at the time which I tend to assume is – the other son? No? Daughter? It’s confusing, that freakin’ family picture! It’s all in the family but we are of no relation, so we can’t be judging. I did see a few listings on the first page of the results, and as any normal person would searching for a friend over the world wide web, I checked out the first three listings.
I came across a first friendship offer from a Jessica with benefits on the side. She seemed a’ight. She didn’t state what she meant by said benefits though. Must’ve wanted us to use our imagination, and I’m a known sucker for wild thoughts. Here goes. Going by her bio, my guess was she offered some sort of hot beverage any time you paid her a visit… ‘Steamy when I give it to you’ is what it said, and I honestly think I nailed that. Wild, right? I don’t see what else she might have meant. She was fairly good looking, easy on the eyes and wore a kind smile under her freckled cheek bones. I hovered over her message box for a short while, but eventually never sent one. Wrong move? Right one? A bit older, a lot shorter, new girl Jess.
The second was a cuddling offer by a lady friend as she described herself. Her phone number lushly pasted on the screen gave the impression she was looking for a good time, and a long one at that. The caption ‘Call Me, Daddy’ displayed under her picture rung in my mind in a feminine voice I easily imagined was hers. Either that or my past love endeavors had come back to haunt me. She wasn’t who I was quite looking for, neither was she who I was hoping not to find. Safe to say she found a new home in my bookmarks. Just in case. I scrolled on.
The final offer I recall was from a woman who stays at Ngara. ‘I stay at Ngara’ was all her description. Nothing much to go on in this find. I hope you can see where I am coming from, dear Reader. You want the role you only need to check ‘YES’ at the bottom. To the Ngara woman, if this does get to you, stay in Ngara. You’re only fifteen minutes away (or an hour depending on traffic), and who knows, you might be the one serving it steamy to me after all. Everyone loves a good beverage, I know I do. To you following along these lines, stay with me. Don’t close the tab. If you’re reading this “If you’re reading this” Aubrey Graham reference right now then you know it’s too late to call it. You’ve made it through the first part, at least. Hang in there.
Why do I want someone out there in who to confide? Well, the simple answer would be, I would very much want to vent. I’d like to if you allowed me. To scream, and shout, and let it all out, so much so my Luhya neighbours think it’s Beatrice bitch! Maybe crawl up a real vent for the poetic justice. Live in it, I don’t know… Start anew. Live out my days there. Be the ‘inventor’ necessity’s pushing me to be. All these (except the moving out into a vent part) if you allow me.
Okay. I’ll try to piece together the words I need to say it the best way I can. No screaming, no shouting, no fits – unless the shoe does, of course. No quips too if they aren’t any good. Let’s start at the very beginning. A very good place to start.
One score and one year ago, my mother brought forth in this earth a new… No, wait, too far. Shit, I’m messing this up. I’ll go again.
I find this weird. Life. Downright weird. From how it all starts to how it all goes and inevitably, how it all ends. Hold on, did I say weird? Sorry I meant weird. How it is that while we are around, we learn new things every other new day and every other new day the world unrelentingly reminds us that we still, and I cannot stress this enough, know nothing. How every twist tends to turn us despite the planning and the playing safe. It’s a journey, and we’re on the fast tracks. Whether they’re the right ones is a matter of question. We’re strapped to the roller-coasters nonetheless, braced. Savouring the views from the highs for the scenes at the lows that never seem to end. Only after do we realize that we can relate (loosely) with Drake’s line about those nonstop rollies – shits really don’t ever stop. Hardships are common, fact. Titans themselves sink, other fact. See 1912. To be perfectly honest, it’s hard to stay up when life steers you into bergs you never see coming. What you might see coming are the storms that threaten to disturb the peace around you… stir the once calm waters you’ve been on and try trapping you amidst incensed whirlwinds. The tempests each one in line eager to rock your world and spit you into the eye of the next, and from where I stand, no beauty lies in these beholders. ‘Captain of your ship’, is what we are. At least that’s what they told us we were. The Jack Sparrows, Cap’n Jack Sparrows, to our Black Pearls. And they were right, I don’t refute. Only they didn’t mention the scouring pirates, vagabonds, sharing these seas with yours but with obvious intentions not to. Or – the broken masts you had to make do with. The faulty lifeboats, the scheming crew smiling in your face, or the icy waters beating against the hull so keen to pull you in. None of these. And somehow, this all looked like the ultimate water park when we were younger. A paradise. Fun and fun guaranteed. Fast forward a tad and we’re suddenly not eligible for the rides. We outgrew them. Now, now we manage them. Make sure they don’t break on the buzzing kids standing in line. Those versions of us before everything happened. Sheesh, if they could see us now! Or at least see the ‘park’ in our eyes. Get to see for themselves that it was all part of a larger shark tank all along, and that that was the safest part of it –meant for the small fish that thought the jellyfish were kinda cute… mere innocuous masses of floating gelatin. But we learned, right? Made mistakes? Got stung? Grew up? Or is this just another sheltered part of an even larger tank?
[Breathes. Venting intensifies.]
We all have battles we fight; trials to overcome, hate to flex on, demons to face. We win some, lose some, taking the Ls and polishing the Ws for the cabinet while keeping a record of our progress. Just a little something to show our biggest critics at the end of the day. Ourselves. We hope they understand our moves, our decisions, because with time you learn they don’t have to. Confusing, right? Adulting 101 for beginners covers this. The advanced volume comes much later, but for some of us it’s recently been knocking on a door that isn’t about to hold much longer. Much like a landlord knowing who’s living on near borrowed time, it’s counting down the days to show at the doorstep. It lacks the face and the loud voice and the menacing stare that a landlord would have, but that is promised in time. That, and the totally unrequested privilege of having your contact on someone else’s speed dial ready to be blown up at the midnight of every 1st. Your phone will only become more active, ringing every other day before and after the D-day, when your bad decisions finally get hold of your number and demand for ‘hush’ money for their D-days. Better than diaper money though if you ask me. There’ll be the promise of KRA too, whose narrative won’t be much different from the bad decisions. They’ll come for your money to pay for their diaper money. On the upside, there’ll be the bartender across the street who will be a much needed friend in all this, invested in your life (or wallet) but invested nonetheless. His joint will be a haven that will have you convinced you got admitted to the bar (pun intended), where strangers will give an ear and another, offer advice that will make some sense behind the slur, and drink it down with you. A haven to forget the student loans. And the shitty bosses. And the battles for a second.
So you see, Reader? It’s a lot on the plate that won’t cover what the mouths you’ll be feeding in time will want. Still you’ll set the table and bring what you can to it. And you’ll take your seat and pull close to the edge. And you’ll look around at how much it all changed… How you survived the roller-coaster. Braved the storms. Grew from the small fish you once were – you finally found your wings. (??) You’ll still be standing… sitting in this case. For now, sitting at that table for one. But you’ll be there, at that place, at that time, and that’ll have to count for something. Right? That’ll help you sleep at night. Just to make sure you sleep, still standing.
What is it that I am trying to say in all this? A 21 year old wouldn’t know much. A 21 year old wouldn’t know shit. But I am glad you heard me out. You made it to this point, that’s how I know you did. We could be good friends, you and I. Just saying. You with your ye, me with mine, we’ll be them that got ye. And if all goes well, you’ll never have to be that somebody that I used to know. I don’t know about you but that sounds like a good idea.
So, you up for it?