The way it works. Efficiency at its finest.

Just three grams enclosed in a small black plastic bottle with an orange lid can join the most teared surfaces within a minute. As I said, efficiency at its finest. The bottle comes with a small stainless steel needle which pierces through the plastic bottle. All you need is a few drops of the adhesive substance and your materials stick together with a strength that would take a lifetime to separate. It has this unique super strength that we can’t quite figure it out what it is. It has solved endless of mankind’s problems within minutes. And its price is just a mere fifty shillings. Whoever invented the super glue, we are forever in your debt. If only it would mend broken hearts.

If only.

Kuja na chupa zingine!!” Peter spoke while looking at the waitress with drowsy eyes. He belched loudly, with the stench of alcohol from his insides coming along with the belch. The smell hit the waitress on her nose, changing her facial expression while cringing her head in attempt to dodge the foul smell. The waitress took the three empty bottles of whisky from his table and placed them horizontally on the tray. She took a white towel and wiped the table, which had alcohol spilled all over. She glanced at him, particularly his white shirt which was stained in alcohol. He was DRUNK. Dead drunk. She looked at him keenly as she wiped the table. From her experience working in the establishment, something had gone clearly amiss in his life.

Peter stretched his hand and gripped her left hand.

She looked at him in disgust. He looked at her. And winked while smiling. She pulled her hand away from her, with the tray slightly swaying on her right hand. Peter let go and gave out a loud laugh. The waitress clicked angrily as she walked to the counter to bring his drinks. Peter looked around and everyone was looking at him. His drowsy eyes open and closed and his head felt heavy.

“What are you all looking at? You’ve never seen a drunk man before!”

He shouted as he let out a loud laugh. His world was spinning. The tables and chairs seemed to be rotating around him.

The waitress came back with his drinks and neatly placed them on the table. He tried to grab her hand again but this time she was quicker. She swiftly moved her hand before he could even reach her. His had landed on the table, and to compensate for his weak aim, he grabbed the bottle of whisky, quickly opened it and placed it on his mouth. He took three gulps of the bottle’s contents and placed it on the table. He tightly closed his eyes as she swallowed the whisky.

Swallowing the pain I suppose.

He took one more gulp and the bottle was empty. He looked at the bottle, amazed as to why the bottle was empty in no time. He could not comprehend this phenomena. He turned the bottle upside down and it was indeed empty.

“Another bottle!” He shouted while pointing at the waitress, who was serving other customers in the bar.

“Which drink would you like sir,” another waitress came to his table and asked him.

“No! Not you. I want her!” He shouted, still pointing at the waitress who served him.

She finished writing the orders of the other customers and walked towards Peter, with boredom and annoyance clearly written all over her face.

“Ok, I think you have had your share for the night. You should be getting home now,” she said, watching him struggle to keep his eyes open.

“You…you…you can’t tell me what’s enough for me… I said I want another one…” Peter stammered as he breathed heavily. His head swayed from left to right. He banged the table furiously, making the empty bottle jump from the table. It landed back on the table horizontally and rolled before coming to a halt right at the tip of the square table. The waitress quickly took it before it could land on the floor and scatter into a million pieces.

“Time for you to go home now Peter.”

A deep sound came from behind him.

He lazily turned his head sideways and looked behind him. It was the bar’s security officers.

He looked at the four of them who were heavily built and in black suits.  He got up, supporting this delicate procedure with the chair. He staggered as he wore his black coat. The waitress looked at him as he struggled to wear the coat. He looked at her smiling.

“I’ll be back for you,” he said.

She looked at him in disgust.

He winked at her and smiled as he staggered out of the bar, with the security officers behind him.

“Go home to your wife Peter, “one of the security officers spoke as he walked to the car park.  He slid his hands into his pocket and took the car keys. He looked around, confused. He turned to the security officers.

“Where the hell is my car? I parked it here.”

“It’s right in front of you man,” one of the security officers said while laughing. He looked in front of him and indeed it was there.

“Are you sure you can drive?”

“Yes… of course… it’s not my first time drinking. I’ll arrive home safely: as usual. I can’t wait to see my lovely wife. “

He got into his car and started the engine after two fails. He looked in front and could see brightly street lights. Alcohol was still in his system, but he has been doing this for a long time and never failed to reach home. Never.

He reversed the car out of the parking space. He looked at the bar’s entry and saw the waitress keenly observing him.

“Hey miss, do you want to come home with me?” He spoke as he laughed hysterically. The waitress faintly smiled and went back into the bar.

He carefully maneuvered out of the parking lot and drove off into the main highway. He glanced at the time, and it was almost 8PM. He looked at the speedometer at as usual, when he was under the influence, he ensured never to exceed 40km/h. A law which he followed religiously.

A law which ensured his safe return home every single week.

Safe return to his loving family. He could not wait to see his wife.


“Hurry up dear, finish your supper. Let me go to the shop.”

Lucy said to her daughter as she rushed into her bedroom. She looked into her golden purse and took out a fifty shillings note.

“What are you going to buy mum,” asked her ever curious daughter.

“I’m going to buy super glue. My other purse tore off while I was alighting the matatu. Finish your food. Remember you will be sleeping and Anne’s place. They are your friends.”

“Yaaay,” her daughter screamed in joy as she quickly ate her food.

Lucy rushed out of the house and walked towards the shop.

“Habari yako,” she greeted the shopkeeper who greeted her back.

“Do you have super glue?”

The shopkeeper responded and gave it to her. She looked at it. It was a white bottle with a black lid. It was not the one she was used to.

Hii ni gani. Nataka ile ingine,” she said as she gave it back to the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper took it and returned it into the shelf. He opened another shelf and took out another super-glue.

“Yes, this is the one,” Lucy said as she gave him the fifty shillings note. The black bottle with an orange lid was the most efficient super glue; according to everyone. That was the one everyone was used to, so a white one was simply a no.

Then her phone beeped. She stopped walking, took her phone, looked at it and it was a message notification. She opened the message and read it. She smiled as her place the phone back in her pocket and continued walking to her house.

She went back to her house and her daughter had finished eating.

“Ok now. Let’s go to Anne’s place.” Lucy rushed into her bedroom and placed the superglue on the table behind to the night lamp.

She then went to her daughter’s bedroom and took her toothbrush.

“Here, keep your toothbrush in your pocket,” she said as she gave it to her daughter.

“When is daddy coming? I wanna see him before I go. And mommy, why always when daddy comes let you let me sleep at Anne’s place.”

Her daughter’s curiosity was unmatched. Unchallenged.

She quickly thought of something to say.

“Don’t worry. Everything is fine with dad. Come on now, let’s go.”

Lucy and her daughter got out of the house and headed towards Anne’s house, which was not far from their house. Her daughter was extremely excited to sleep at her best friend’s house. Anne was her best friend for her entire life of seven years in this world.

It was best if she slept there. Where she felt safest.

They reached their house and her daughter could not contain her excitement. She ran towards Anne and greeted each other like they had been away for years; yet they were at school together.

Anne’s mother, Rose and Lucy greeted each other and went to the kitchen while their daughters played in the living room. Rose was in the middle of preparing dinner.

“Thanks for letting her sleep here,” Lucy said to Anne’s mother.

“No problem at all. You know I got you,” Rose responded as she finely sliced tomatoes on the chopping board.

As usual, every time the two of them met, it would be chit chat; discussing every single details of their lives, even the private ones. They would tell each other endless stories of how their lives were doing; and of course offer each other tons of advice. Whether good or bad.

In the midst of those entertaining stories, Lucy’s phone rang.

She took it from her pocket and looked at who was calling. She looked at Rose with scared eyes and showed the phone to her.

It was Peter. Her husband.

“Oh my God, he’s home. What do I say?” Lucy asked, terrified.

“Answer it. Tell him you are on the way.”

Lucy took a deep breath and pressed the answer button.


“Where the hell are you?” Peter shouted.

Lucy could his heavy breathing, an indication that he was dead drunk.


Before she could even complete the sentence, Peter shouted at him, this time louder

“Get over here right now!”

He hang up the phone. Lucy removed the phone from her ear and placed it in her pocket. She looked at Rose with tears forming in her eyes.

“You have to go Lucy. There is no other way. We have discussed this. You have to do this. It’s the only way you can be free from all this pain. Listen to me. You have to go home. Your daughter is safe here.”

They hugged each other as she wiped her tears off her face.

“Ok. Let me go.” She wiped her tears again and regained her normal face. She took deep breaths as she prepared herself for what was to come.

“I’ll be back for my daughter tomorrow.”

She went to the living room and saw her daughter playing with her best friend.

“Hey, I’m going home. I’ll come het you tomorrow.”

Her daughter was too busy playing to hear her mother’s words.

Lucy and Rose went outside and hugged each other.

“Take care.

You too.”

Rose got back into the house and Lucy began walking home. She could hear her daughter’s joyous laughter echoing from the house.

Then her phone rang again. She looked and it was her husband. She returned the phone back to her pocket, a move to avoid the insults that were to come out of the phone’s speaker.

She neared her home and indeed, he was home.

His car was parked in a rather ‘drunkard’ manner. It was parked in the middle of the road, without a care in the world. The headlights were still on. She slowly opened the door and got inside the house.

It was dark.

She switched on the lights and walked into the living room. She heard a loud crack on her feet. She quickly looked down and notices she had stepped onto a broke piece of glass which crackled as she walked. She looked around and saw lots of broken pieces scattered on the floor. Her favorite glass vase, which she neatly hung next to the door, was on the floor, destroyed and scattered.

She heard loud noises followed by sounds of things falling and breaking on the floor. It was coming from the bedroom. She quietly walked into the kitchen and looked at all the broken utensils spread across the floor.  She looked up and the cabinets were all open and dangling for their dear lives.

It was Peter’s routine while drunk; Park the car anywhere, cause rampage in the living room, kitchen and finally the bedroom. She looked at her favorite glassware, the food which she had prepared for him was on the floor. It has always been like this. Ever since they got married four years ago. Every Friday, he came home drunk as hell and wreaked havoc wherever his hands touched.

Including her.

She knew what would happen if she entered the bedroom. The very thought of it made her regret why she left Rose’ house in the first place. She pulled her long-sleeved shirt and stared at her healing wounds which were inflicted upon her a few weeks ago by Peter when he came home drunk on Friday; as usual. They were marks all over her hands and neck. She looked at them and imagined of her lovely daughter was the one having the marks. She tried as much as possible to protect her daughter from seeing what Peter did to her.

And she succeeded. She was proud of her choices.

And now there was one more thing left to do.


Peter jumped on the bed, exhausted. He looked around the bedroom and saw the mess he created.

He smiled.

He had rampaged everything in the bedroom. Except for one thing.

The night lamp was neatly standing on the corner of his bed, beaming soft light across the room. It was the only thing which he never destroyed. It was his late brother’s lamp which he has since taken great care of as a sign of respect. No matter how drunk or wild he became, the lamp was always spared of the atrocities. His head was drowsy and heavy. He lazily got up and sat at the edge of the bed, his hands supporting his heavy head. He heavily blinked and then he heard footsteps.


Her name echoed across the house as he yelled it.

The footsteps came closer and closer and the bedroom door slowly opened.

“Ye…yes… Yes…” Lucy spoke as she gracefully walked into the bedroom.

She looked at Peter, who was staring directly into her soul, with his hands supporting his head. His white shirt was stained in alcohol, making it look like a multi-colored shirt. She gazed at their bedroom; the mess was spectacular. Even the kitchen was not badly affected as here. The drawers were all open, with both of their clothes scattered across the room.

“Where have you been? And where is my daughter!”

Peter slowly got up. His fiery eyes were piercing through her.

“She… she’s at Anne’s place. She’ll spend the night there,” she stammered.

Peter walked towards her and stopped right in front of her, his head almost touching hers; they were the same height. She felt the stench of alcohol dive into her nostrils as Peter breathed heavily. He looked into her eyes and saw them slowly become teary. Her breath increased in pace and her eyes became wider.

And he loved that. Very much. Watching fear consume every bit of her.


Peter lifted his hands and placed them softly around her neck. He felt her warm neck and breath coming in and out of her. Her high pulse vibrated on his hands as he tightened his grip around her neck.

Lucy gasped for breath as she felt her neck becoming tighter and tighter. She closed her eyes and swallowed a huge gulp of saliva; awaiting for the unknown. Her neck become uncomfortably tight and she placed her hands on Peter’s huge arms, trying to stop him from choking her.

Peter looked at her hands as she pressed his arms tightly, trying to remove them from her neck. He leaned towards her and gave her soft kiss on her lips. He felt her breath in her mouth, giving her a passionate kiss while slowly releasing his grip form her neck. He let go of her neck and kissed her forehead.

And then he smiled.

Lucy was confused. She did not know what to do.  Smile back, or just ignore.

She smiled back, revealing her white, neatly arranged teeth.

They smiled at each other. It was like a stormy weather was quickly overshadowed by a bright sunny day.

The silver lining.

Peter looked at her for a moment. She saw her beautiful face beam with a smile; a smile for him. He smiled back at her. And then it hit him like an electric shock. He had not seen his daughter.

He grabbed her neck again. Her smile disappeared from her face without a trace.

“Why did you take my daughter away,” He asked in a deep voice while tightening his grip. She was speechless as Peter’s fiery eyes stared at her. She felt her legs leaving the ground.

He lifted her a few inches off the ground and watched her as she gasped for breath, frantically moving her arms around his face. He turned around and faced the large bed. He pulled her closer to him and then stretched his hands, releasing her from his grip.

Lucy landed on the bed with her back. She took deep breaths and she rolled over, trying to sit upright. She looked at Peter as he walked towards her, smiling. He slowly began unbuttoning his shirt and he walked to her. He threw his shirt on the floor and jumped on the next to her. He knelt and started unzipping his jeans.

“No… Peter… I don’t want to…”

A heavy slap landed on her right cheek sending her head back to the white sheets. She screamed in pain and Peter landed her another slap.

She cried.

Peter grabbed her and forcefully kissed her. She had no alternative; nowhere else to go in this dark night. Peter pounced on top her.

She tightly closed her eyes as she felt his hands slithering across her body. She was powerless against him. Of course.

She wept silently as Peter did whatever he pleased to her.


They lay on the bed together. Peter was dead asleep facing the ceiling, snoring as usual after fulfilling his desires. Lucy, however, was wide awake, staring at him. She slowly took his hand which was laying on top of her and carefully placed it on the bed. He did not even move a single muscle.

He was dead asleep.

She quietly woke up and rolled out of the bed, making sure she was as quiet as possible. She looked at him and he was still asleep. Lucy tiptoed away from the bed, dodging the scattered pieces of metal and glass on their bedroom floor. She looked back at Peter again; he was still asleep. She went to the night lamp, which was still on. She stretched her hands behind the lamp and grasped the super glue. She carefully slit the paper-like cover and took out the bottle. She glanced again at Peter: he was in the same state of slumber. She opened the orange lid and used the needle to pierce through the opening. She lightly pressed the bottle and a small drop of the glue came out; an indication that it was fully open.

She walked back and slowly knelt on the bed facing Peter. She moved closer to him, making sure she doesn’t disturb his peaceful sleep. She held the super glue on the right hand, with the left hand opening one of his eyelids. She quickly held his eyelid open and pressed the bottle on top of his eyes. Several drops landed right into his eyes and spread evenly across the eye’s surface. She quickly opened the other eyelid and poured the glue into his eyes.

Peter suddenly began moving. She got out of the bed and stood away from him.

Peter’s head felt heavy. He turned his head left and right. He lazily sat on the bed. He looked around and it was all darkness. His eyes felt funny and he touched them. His eyelids were tightly shut. He tried opening them but they were still shut. He touched his eyes and a liquid felt a soft liquid on his eyelids. He smelled it and knew immediately what it was.

“What the…. Is this. Is this… super glue?” He asked in shock. He forced his eyelids apart but they were tightly locked together. He was shocked.

He opened his eyes and they were completely shut. He held his eyelashes, pulled them up and grabbed his lower eyelid. He tried separating them; but it was too late.

You all know the power of super glue.

His world was now in total darkness. He could not believe what just happened.

“What have you done to me you woman!” he shouted as he spread his hands around the bed.

She was not there. The only thing around him were bedsheets and a pillow.

“Where are you Lucy?”

He got up and stood next to the bed. All he could see was darkness.

“Where the hell are you?”

Lucy stood a few meters away from him, watching him spreading his hands aimlessly in attempt to catch her.

She smiled.

Then she spoke.

“That’s what you get for treating me like some piece of trash. You get what you deserve Peter.”

Peter heard her voice coming from the left end of the room. He raised his legs and began walking towards her, only step on a piece of metal and fall to the ground. He cursed as he angrily got up, with his only sense of sight being his hands. He reached at the left side of the room and grabbed the wall, hoping it would be Lucy.

She had slowly tiptoed and stood away from him, watching his struggled with the wall.

“Wait till I get my hands on you!! I will choke you death!!”

Peter was helpless. He leaned on the wall, trying as much as possible to open his eyes.

But once they were shut; they were shut.

“You want to hold me like the way you held the waitress at the bar?”

Peter was surprised. And confused.

“Wait… wha…what!”

Lucy smiled as she watched Peter’s bewildered face.

“The waitress a good friend of mine. She notified me when you entered the club. And how you were looking at touching her with your drunk self. Wow, how flirty of you. I told her to add a little something in your drink to make you excessively wasted. When you were chased out of the club, she notified me you were coming and I went to buy the super glue. I knew if I kept it behind your precious night lamp you would not touch it. I had been planning this for the longest time possible.  Thanks to her and Rose, my plan went perfectly well. Now you will never bother me and my daughter ever again.”

Peter listened to her and anger boiled in him. He grabbed a piece of glass from the floor and threw it in front of him. It hit the wall with a loud shattering sound.

Lucy let out a laughter.

“You missed. Now it’s my turn,” she said.

Peter heard the bedroom door open and footsteps walking away from the room.

“Come back here!” He shouted as he carefully walked towards the door, spreading his hands in front of him while stepping on pieces of glass which pierced through his feet. He reached and held the bedroom door. He walked out of the bedroom and headed towards the living room, with the wall being his only source of support. He slowly walked while touching the wall. He suddenly stumbled and fell on the floor. He felt a large object on his foot. He touched it and realized it was Lucy’s favorite vase; broken and destroyed.

He then heard footsteps in the kitchen. Her footsteps.

“Come here you woman!”

He got up and leaned on the wall. After all, he knew his house very well and could tell where the kitchen was. He walked while leaning on the wall towards the kitchen. He heard the footsteps becoming louder as he reached the kitchen.

“Good, you have brought yourself here,” Lucy said as she looked at him supporting himself on the wall.

“I swear if I get my hands on you I will…”

He listened as Lucy walked around the kitchen in slow steady steps. He heard the opening of a drawer followed by the sound of dropping utensils.

“Well, here it is finally,” she spoke.

“Oh God. No… what are you trying to do….” Peter was shocked.

Peter knew exactly what she was talking about. She always kept it on the top drawer and used it only when she was baking or preparing food for visitors.

It was a long, stainless steel chef knife.

“I told you I will make sure you don’t bother us ever again.”

For the first time, Peter was scared of her. Scared of what she was about to do. He quickly turned back and walked out of the kitchen. He stumbled and fell on the floor; again. He heard footsteps coming closer and closer to him.

“Lucy please…please don’t do this…Please…Let’s talk…” He turned back and of course he saw nothing. He could only hear footsteps moving closer and closer to him.

“Goodbye Peter.”

The footsteps became louder and his heart rate increased.



“We are gathered here to celebrate the life well lived of Mr. Peter. His life was cut short by the brutal hands of robbers who attacked their house two weeks ago. Luckily, his wife and daughter survived but he was stabbed seven times on the chest and back. May he rest in eternal peace.”
Lucy stood next to the grave, firmly holding her daughter’s hand. Tears rolled in her eyes as the pastor paid the final respects before the golden coffin was lowered to the ground. She took out her handkerchief and carefully wiped her tears off her face.

Standing next to her was Rose and the waitress, all in full black. They looked at each other and held each other’s hands.

Peter’s family stood around the grave, all in tears, contemplating what could have conspired that night.

“Don’t worry, we are together in this tragedy. May those robbers never know peace,” a faint voice came from behind Lucy. She turned her head and standing behind her was Peter’s mother.

“Thank you mum,” Lucy said as they hugged each other, crying uncontrollably.

“We will find those guilty of killing our beloved Peter. And they will suffer.”

The coffin was lowered to the ground and covered in sand.

Peter’s mother, Lucy, Rose and the waitress slowly walked back to the house, while holding each other’s hands.

A show of support and solidarity.


Poetic justice Realest

Him And Her II

romantic-proposal-1245855PART II


She stood there.



She just stood there. Her eyes wide open. Not even able to blink.  She was staring at the door. It was a few minutes after he barged out of the common room like an angry bull, leaving her speechless and confused. Her friends came next to her and held her shoulders, thinking she may decide to chase after him.

But she just stood there.

As though she was rooted to the floor.

She had no idea what to do. Continue with the birthday or just walk away. Or chase after him. Or just…She was completely indecisive. She looked around: everyone was holding their smartphones pointing at her, with their flashes a clear indication that photos and videos were being taken for the sole purpose of sharing around the hundreds of University groups on various social sites. She was going to be an internet sensation in the next few hours. And not forgetting the endless comic memes that would accompany her ‘fame’ afterwards. People had even climbed on top of their chairs to witness the drama unfold between them as she boldly said NO to his witiful proposal. Everything was recorded. Every single detail. There was endless murmuring in the common room as people were still reacting and doing their own analysis of the incident. Some were murmuring hurtful words right next to her while laughing hysterically. She looked at them, hearing everything that they were saying, and just looked away, hiding the bitterness in her eyes.

Because there was nothing she could do about it.


A cold breeze coming from the open door blew straight to her and she slightly regained some sense of the matter. She blinked for a few seconds and looked at her two closest friends who were standing next to her: as they always did. They held each of her hand and led her away from the door towards the front where they were seating. She walked towards her seat, with her friends by her side and she slowly sat as they sat with her. She placed her hands on her knees as she lay her head between the palms of her hands. Some of the people who were standing slowly began sitting as they saw her sit, while others roamed around the hall bursting out laughter as they showed each other the videos and photos each of them took. She heard her voice coming from one of the phones behind her.

“I’m sorry but no…”

She heard her voice playing followed a by a loud laughter from the back. Her emotions wildened as she recalled those words, which she uttered to him a few moments ago. She remembered the very exact words and both of their reactions.

“Let’s just cut the cake and get this over with,” one of her friends said as she stood up and grabbed the knife. The birthday girl was seated at the front of the room the whole time. She stood up and went beside the table where the cake was neatly placed, still in the box.

She watched as the cake was being cut. The” Happy birthday “song started being sung as the birthday girl held the knife gracefully as she sliced the chocolate cake into eight pieces. A Bluetooth speaker was brought on the table and music was played in a bid to eliminate the weary mood that was hovering around the room.

“Hey, get up! Let’s dance!” Her friends said as they stretched their hands towards her. She rolled her eyes in frustration as she stretched her hands as well. She lazily got up, as her friend led her at the center of the room. Her friends swayed her hands side to side in an attempt to make her dance but it was futile.

Then she heard it.

Don’t go am kujaiiiinnnggg…..

Tonight we are dunda…dundaiiinngg!!!”

Her favorite song started playing from the Bluetooth speaker. Her friends were still holding her hands while waving them aimlessly. She closed her eyes and she felt the happenings of that day slowly fading as her favorite song was reaching its climax. She felt relieved: almost as though nothing had happened. Her mind wandered away to the beat of her favorite song. She slowly started moving her waist rhythmically. She swayed sideways and went downwards, rotated back and forth as her friends watched in amazement.

“Now that’s more like it!” One of them said as they joined her in dancing her unique moves.

She felt relieved.

As if nothing had happened at all.

They danced their hearts out and soon one hour has passed by. People had begun exiting the premises and so they had to as well. The cake had been viciously attacked by those in attendance to the point where even the box was not spared by their brutality. But lucky for them, they had an extra cake safely stored in her room. They collected the rubbish that had been left behind by the party-goers, leaving the place just as they had found it: neat and clean.

She was happy.

The memory of that day had faded into history. She kept convincing herself that she had made the right choice. There was one memory that made her giggle: the one that he went on his knees. She remembered how that made her surprised making her speechless. She actually thought he was going to give her a ring or something. She giggled as she left the room with her friends. They went down the stairs towards the hostel’s exit.

“Hey miss! A moment please,” shouted the housekeeper as she rushed towards them. They stopped walking and the housekeeper stood next to them.

“Sorry to disturb you but I’ve been told you know him,” She said as she reached into her pockets and took out a school ID. She showed it to them.

It was his.

She took it and keenly looked at it on both sides. Indeed, it was his. “Yes, I know the owner of the ID,” she said.

“Well kindly give it to him. He left here in a hurry and I noticed he was angry. Someone must have pissed him off,” the housekeeper said while smiling.

She smiled back. A very fake smile it was. She took the ID and placed it in her pocket. Her two friends were staring at her blankly, confused by what she had just done.

“Have a good day,” said the housekeeper as she went into her office.

They continued walking towards their hostel, which was quite the distance. She began wondering where he might have gone to after displaying the angry rant towards her. It was around six PM and the sky was becoming dark. She felt the cold breeze, once again: this time it was colder than usual. It blew past her, leaving her skin with protruding goosebumps all over her body. She took out her red jumper from her bag and quickly wore it.

It was his jumper actually.

She felt warm.

They had now crossed the first gate out of the hostel they had been and they had and were now heading towards their hostel. They neared the students’ annex center and saw a huge crowd of people gathered at the entrance. “What’s going on here,” they wondered as they approached the crowd. People were murmuring as the sound of the school’s ambulance wailed loudly as the crowd paved way for it to enter.

She reached where the crowd was. With her level of curiosity getting higher, she squeezed herself between the rowdy crowd to reach the front and see for herself what had happened.

“Hey wait up!” Her friends said as they struggled keeping up with her. She was rather slender so it was easier for her to penetrate through the crowd, considering her plumper friends. She finally made it to the front of the crowd. She looked around, hoping to see something astonishing but there seemed to be nothing of interest. “Excuse me, what’s happening here,” she asked the person next to her, who was busy holding her phone upwards towards the wall, with the back flash shining brightly. She looked at the wall.

On top of the wall separating the annex from the lecture halls, he hung there like the way a cheetah hangs its prey on a tree after killing it. His hands were on one side while his feet was on the other side of the wall. There was a large gash on the left side of his head out of which blood flowed, coloring the wall red. She stood there: eyes wide open with her hands on her mouth. “Finally, we have reached you. Next time wait for….” Her friend stopped talking when she saw the body dangling from the wall.

“Oh my God.”

The three of them stood there as they watched the school’s Red Cross team climb up the wall and pull his body down. She took a few steps to where the ambulance was and looked closely.

It was him.

It was truly him.

He lay on the white trolley: lifeless. Unable to utter a single word.

Tears started falling, since she could not believe what she had just seen. The Red Cross team began searching his pockets and took out his wallet. They opened it and neatly placed the contents of the wallet on the ground.

“There seems to be no identification card in the wallet,” said one of them.

She dipped her hands in to her pockets and took out his ID card. She stretched it towards them and they looked at her in amazement.

“I…I…I know him,” she spoke, trying as much as she can to withhold the tears from streaming down her eyes. They took the ID and confirmed. It was indeed him.

“You will have to come with us miss,” one of them said as she was led into the ambulance.

“We’ll also go with as well,” one of her friends, said as they followed her into the ambulance.

The body was neatly put in a huge bag and placed on the ambulance next to where they were seated. She looked at him one more time. Her hands on her still placed on her mouth. She then noticed something odd.

Trapped in his right hand was a piece of paper. She looked closely and it was scribbled some writings on it. She bumped her friends to see the piece of paper.

They all immediately thought that the contents of that paper were the explanation behind his untimely and shocking end.

His reasons why.

Meanwhile, the crowd began showing the birthday videos to the Red Cross team while pointing at her. She sat on the ambulance bench, knowing very well that a long, unpleasant moment in her life was beginning to unfold.


Him and Her



Part I:


The day had come. That day when he, with his twenty years of life on this planet, had to do what any male species would do.  He took breaths. Deep breaths first, followed by a few short breaths. It’s called pumping yourself up, for those who have no clue about it. The ancient art of giving yourself psyche when you are about to do something which you have been planning for weeks or months. One way or another, the outcome of this upcoming event would shape your days towards your favor or go totally against your expectations and backfire with epic proportions. It’s one of those moments of uncertainty we all have to face, whether in the near or distant future: but eventually, it will come knocking.

He was seated at the edge of the lower bed of the double-decker, a common feature in all hostels in the University. He wore his clean white t-shirt which he had just gotten it from the clothesline after being thoroughly scorched by the midday sun. It was white and shiny. Just what he needed. He looked down at his black jeans, which was also washed. The black color matched with the white t-shirt like a match made in heaven. He went towards his locker, opened it and took his prized possession. A pair of black, original Timberland shoes. They were fresh off the boutique just a few weeks ago. His pride and joy. He went back and sat on his bed and began wearing his shoes.  He tied the shoelaces to the last hole, something which he was not used to.

But today was special.

Both shoes were tied to perfection. He stood up, glanced at himself one more time from head to toe. He stretched his hands wide, observing all aspects of the clothing he was wearing, especially the white t-shirt, making sure it had no strange spots.

Mi ni ule msee,” He whispered to himself as he rolled his dreadlocks to a man-bun at the top of his head. The whisper of self-belief that all would go as planned.  He was now all set to go. Then he remembered something. Something very crucial. How could he have forgotten such a thing? He went and opened his locker and quickly grabbed it. It was a rectangular, red-ish, ‘Versman’ cologne. He looked at it and it was empty except for some few scattered droplets dangling at the lower left corner inside the bottle. He tilted the bottle at an angle towards the left side. The scattered droplets slowly began moving towards the tilted side and they all merged forming a small portion of applicable perfume. He pressed the spraying nozzle of the perfume and the little amount quickly got sucked into the straw which released the bottled contents to the outside world. He held the nozzle against his chest and sprayed once into each armpit. He looked at the bottle and there was still some left inside the tiny straw. He sprayed in strategic parts around his upper body, making sure they got equal amounts of the perfume. He was now, finally, ready to go. He went out of the hostel towards his destination.  He passed by the mirror next to the washrooms. He paused. A rare event was happening. Never had he ever stopped to look himself in the mirror. NEVER. But today he had to. And in his eyes, he was best dressed than any other day.

And off he went.

The midday sun made his white t-shirt shine even brighter. He walked from the Eastern Zone of the campus towards the ladies hostels. You know you can’t just enter the ladies’ hostels as though it’s your playboy mansion. He followed the usual boring protocol of signing in and leaving some sort of identity, ‘just in case’.  He went up the spiral staircases and reached the second floor.  As he was informed, the event would happen in the Common Room, a place which was used for students’ social purposes.  He walked a few meters from the stairs and reached the said location.

The chairs were neatly arranged in a circle and between, a considerable amount of space was left and a small table was in the middle. On top of the table was a medium-sized cake surrounded by all sorts of drinks. People were seated calmly, some hooked to their phones while others were chatting as they waited for the birthday girl to arrive.  He scanned the room from left to right.

He saw her.

Seated on the far left of the room, he spotted her chatting with her friends. The stories that were being told seemed quite interesting since she was hysterically laughing as she touched her long braids and rolled them playfully. He walked and sat on one of the front chairs, a short distance away from her. He looked at her one more time and he was short of breath.  He looked behind and more people were streaming in as time went by.

He knew the perfect moment to act.

Moments later, the birthday girl everyone had been waiting for finally arrived. The quiet and calm mood of the room quickly changed and everyone became ecstatic. All eyes were on her as she gracefully walked in and headed where the cake was.

The time to act was now.

It was now or never.

He took a deep breath and stood up. He slowly walked to where the birthday girl was standing and whispered in her ear. She nodded and went to sit right where he was seated. He looked around the room, which was now full of people.

“Hey guys,” he greeted the multitude and they responded back. Then he proceeded.” My name is Michael and I know you are all wondering why I’ve stood here disrupting the birthday celebration. There is something that has been bugging me for so long and I have finally decided to let it out. I cannot leave like this anymore and I had to say it now. “

Everyone was dead silence, gazing at him as he touched his chin. He walked and stood next to her.

Their eyes locked.

“Honestly speaking I have been madly in love with you for a long time now. I have persevered for so long but the more I hold it in the more it hurts. I want you so f@#$ing bad Jane. You’re beautiful and smart and I would love to be your girlfriend.”

He moved closer to her and got down on one knee. He stretched his hands towards her hands and looked at her straight in her eyes. Everyone was amazed. Her friends who were seated next to her could not believe what was conspiring before their eyes. Their mouths were wide open as their hands found themselves covering their wide mouths. Phones were unleashed out of the pockets as people moved closer in attempt to get their photos and videos in 3d. She was seated, her eyes looking at his as she curved out a smile.

“She is going to accept. Holy @$#!” He thought as he tried as hard as possible to conceal his joy with a serious face. “I’m winning,” He thought. His hands held her warm hands as he anxiously waited for her reply. She looked down smiling, a clear indication that his courage had her blushing. All this time he was staring at her reaction. People on the background were whispering in excitement, especially the girls who were even screaming with joy, unable to control their off-the-chart emotions.

In his mind, he was winning her, bit by bit. If only knew what she was thinking at that moment.

If only he knew.

After looking down for some time, she looked up and straight towards him, who was still on his knee, eagerly waiting for her to speak.

Kubali maze!” Some of the males inside the room began chanting behind them, a show of support and solidarity to their counterpart. She looked around and saw the multitude of people gathered to witness the beginning…or the ending of a love story.

Then she spoke.

“I…I…I don’t know what to say.”

She paused for a moment and looked at him again.

“I’m sorry but no.”

The excitement that was in the room immediately vanished. His face which was beaming with hope frowned unceremoniously. He looked at her with shock in his eyes, unable to believe her response. He looked down, bit his lips and heavily blinked. He opened his eyes, took a deep breath and looked up at her. Behind her, people were hovering their phones around both of them in silence. The males who were supporting their counterpart were surprised by the unexpected turnout of events.

He lifted up his bent knee and stood up. He let go of her hands. He didn’t utter a single word. He walked out of the room as everyone’s phone recorded and took shots of his silence exit.  She was still seated as he left.

He climbed down the stairs and headed outside the ladies’ hostels. His face was a clear depiction of sadness and anger.

“Hey Mister, you’ve forgotten your ID,” shouted the housekeeper who was seated at the entrance of the hostel. He heard her call but totally ignored her and continued walking.

His hands clenched into a fist as he walked, making people move away from him as he walked along the school pathways. He walked past the school’s annex and stopped. His mind was in shattered pieces as he could not believe that the girl whom he wholeheartedly loved refused his proposal. He being the only known case of a male student proposing to a female, something out of a fairy tale and supposed to be a flawless ‘yes’ went contrary to his expectations.

He dipped his hands in his pocket and it came out with a one thousand shilling note. He looked at. That was the only cash he had for surviving the oncoming week.

He looked at it one more time and made his choice.

He entered the students’ annex center and the smell of alcohol blew into his nostrils, luring him to come and drown his sorrows and failures.

Goals Uncategorized

Thick and Thin 

The sounds of machines continuously beeping throughout the room.  Those white walls, ceilings and floor a constant reminder of my current situation. I turn my head after a painful sting in my head. The endless rows of beds on my right side. People moaning in pain, twisting and turning in their small beds not sure if they would survive to see the next sunrise.  I turn my head painfully to my left. The situation on that side is worse than I thought. Men, women and children were all in those beds. Some could move while some lay still on the beds: Long gone from this world. 

Now I was at the centre of all this: all this chaos, foul stenches of death and despair looming around the white-walled hall.  I took a deep breath and exhaled through the large, transparent ‘thing’ placed on top of my nose and mouth. It was supposed to aid my breathing: or so I overhead from one of the heartless nurses who roughly stuffed it on my facial openings thinking I was unconscious. On the upper part of the ‘thing’, there was a narrow tube which led to an oxygen tank at the corner of my bed. On top of the tank was some kind of a measuring gauge which clearly, from the position of my bed, I could see its pointer stuck on the red side of the gauge. The oxygen levels were depleting. And the nurse seemed not to care after all. To them, my death would mean a reduction in burden to them. I faced in front of me and tried feeling my legs. Nothing. There they were. My once active, strong, functioning legs were reduced to feeble limbs dangling in bandages. They were supported by dirty ropes which were tied on the roof‘s wooden ceiling. I did not know what to do. My hopes were slowly beginning to drift away. The endless speeches by the doctors that I would be able to walk after two months time proved totally contrary to my expectations. My legs remained numb, for the fourth month. My senses ended at my stomach. I only had a vague memory as to what had conspired leading to this. My memory was distorted. Distorted in such a way that I was not able to think straight. But deep in my mind, I had a certain feeling. That feeling of assurance. That feeling that I still I had a shoulder to lean on despite all this hell set upon me. 

I felt it. Just as I was thinking about it. About that shoulder to always and forever lean on.I felt it like an electric spark running through my body. It slowly started from the tip of my left finger, then as if increasing in momentum, I felt it pretty well at my elbow all the way up to my shoulder. I felt it. I had never really quite felt something since that” day. That Friday the 8th on a Saturday evening. The only thing I could remember from my vague mind was my sleek, black Range Rover breaking through the barriers of the smooth Thika Superhighway at the overpass in githurai. The few-second glimpse of the heavy traffic below me which I was soon going to ram forcefully was the last thing I saw. Next was a loud crash at the front of my car. My eyes shut tightly as the fragments of glass attacked my face. Then came the hit. One huge bang on my head and I felt myself slowly drifting away from own body. And the next time I opened my eyes, I found myself here:in this place: soaked in endless pain and anguish. 

It was her. I looked at her after struggling to turn my head to her direction. It was her that for the first time, I could feel again. If only I could speak. Or rather just show her a sign. But I was positive she knew it too. She knew what I was thinking of her. In all this confusion and chaos, she was here. Hopeful, atleast that one day I would go back to the good days. The days before everything overturned in this life of ours. Her tight grip on my hand told it all. For once, I ignored the constant beeping of the machine next to me. The machines that held my life in their hands. Their wires actually. But the nurse was wrong. The wrong that back in school, all your classmates got the answer of a question to be 144.485 and your genius self got you -0.005821. My life was not held by some beeping thing. It was not the reason for my optimism that I would live to see many more sunrises and sunsets. And how I deeply promised myself that once I would get out of here I would live life accordingly and not work my ass off at work. She was the reason behind my life. Deep in my sleep, or a coma as it was called: I overheard them. My friends, or so I thought, were busy whispering to each other how I would soon fade away from this world. Even my family members were no different from them. But her: amidst all this, I did not hear even a single word from her. She was just there, always there. Still here.

My thick and thin.