Puff n’ pass

Puff n’ pass

She is on my bed. Her left leg is over mine and she is telling me she loves me. Yes, she has a boyfriend but it is me she loves. She will leave him. She just hasn't figured out how to do it. He is working in the big city. He sends her money every now and then. He doesn't ask for much. He only wants to see her once every month. I never ask what happens when she goes there. It is always the last Sunday of the month. He always sends her fare and some spare change in case she needs to buy something while traveling. Sometimes he calls her at night, when she is sleeping over at my place. He says her voice makes him sleep a little better. Just before he ends every call, he asks her.

How to lose your virginity

How to lose your virginity

For now though, he feels a new dialogue happening in his pants. One he particularly enjoys. She will feel it too. She will reach out to grab it. Gently at first then.... She will grab the back of his neck. His breathing will quicken. His ears will grow just a little bit hotter. She will stop kissing him. She will draw back. Look him straight in the eye, and say happily, I like you. She will kiss him again. And again. And again. A really small part of him will want to lift one leg up and lean into the kiss. Just a small part.....

Waiting

Waiting

"Cool, see you tomorrow," he grunts, then adds "goodbye babe." Then he ends the call. I am shell shocked. He did not give me a chance to correct him. This is the first time a man has called me babe. I am not too sure if this is something I should tell my wife. Should I call him and ask him to clarify? Was it a mistake? Does he think I am a baby? Or did something in my voice give him indications that I am a hot babe? I call him again, I cannot live with the suspense. I need to know what he meant. He does not pick up my call. I'm I a baby or a babe?

Desire

Desire

The first time a man touched me, it was at home. I was barely 6 years old. My parents used to travel a lot for work. Most of the time, it was just me and the nanny. That afternoon, she was giving me a bath.

God is a woman

God is a woman

She said, "goodbye love." She then left immediately. His world broke. He knew she was serious when she left. A part of him knew it. I ask him, how did it feel when she was walking out? Like God had left him. Like everything good that ever happened to him was leaving with her.

Christmas

Christmas

There's nothing particularly special about the building. It smells like ass. A troublesome scent, especially in light of Uncle Ezekiel's forays into banning anything remotely related to the African bum.

Sleeping with you

Sleeping with you

My mum will go to church that day. She will sit at the edge of the wooden pew, on the fourth bench from the front. She has always sat there. Close enough to the altar, but not too close that everyone notices. She will pray. And because God is in her pocket, he will listen. Somehow, my many sins will be forgiven, I will see heaven, on the back of my mother's prayer.

How to kiss a girl

How to kiss a girl

I've always thought of how it feels for a girl to kiss a girl. Cherry lips kissing blood red lips. One's lips are strawberry flavored while the other's have some chocolatey infused goodness with hints of mint. Is there an explosion of taste in one's mouth?

The Girls of Accra Road

The Girls of Accra Road

On Kampala road I meet a long line of women. Scantily dressed, with their nether regions winking at the moon. The moon blushes, and hides behind some clouds. They stand strategically at the doors of motels that charge between 100-300 bob for an hour....

How to Kill the First Lady: Part 2

How to Kill the First Lady: Part 2

The guitarist begins, slowly at first. Strumming a few lines that get everyone silent. He is the best in the country and everyone can see why. He strums it again. This time without letting go. The way a hungry lover devours his woman. As if every croon of her body was a hidden treasure willing him to find it. The guitar gives way to him. Churning out the most melancholic of tunes. The music carrying in its potency the sum total of the grief of a people. Then just before the singer comes on, he slows the guitar even further.

My First Salary

My First Salary

We grew up watching the TV series Suits, Boston Legal and White Collar. So forgive us, if we thought our first jobs would be in swanky offices that smelt of new currency. Earning a salary north of Ksh. 50,000 which came with a girlfriend who called me every morning to tell me she loved me. Instead, I found myself in industrial area. Getting intimate with sacks of relief food at the UNICEF Warehouses.

What If God was One of Us?

What If God was One of Us?

It has been 15 minutes now and the bus has moved only 9 inches. The city smells like the midnight moon drenched in 37 liters of water...The smell has a name, husk I think. An Indian once told me that the smell of rain falling on hot soil did things for him, a woman's touch could not. We are no longer friends with that gentleman.

How to love me

How to love me

Do you ever look at young lovers and pity them? The way their fingers find every excuse to intertwine. The simplicity, the genuineness of how much they like each other. The naivety of believing it is enough.

Of Fathers and Fatherhood

Of Fathers and Fatherhood

She tells me she misses him. Especially when she sees how much I resemble him. I ask her if she thinks I am as handsome as he was. She laughs, and heads out to call the doctor. Women….always avoiding questions. At the door she pauses, looks at me and says “If he was here, he would want you to fight to get well.” She runs out before I can say anything. It is her way of telling me to stay with her.

How to Kill the First Lady: Part 1

How to Kill the First Lady: Part 1

The men begin to talk specifically about how they will play the song at the funeral. They discuss this in low tones, listening to the song, writing down some notes as the continue to discuss. The deputy president can contribute nothing to this conversation. His skills are more attuned to manipulating the minds of the people than any musical instrument.

The Nduthi Guy

The Nduthi Guy

For some reason, she kept coming back to his bar. She was nice to him, unlike the rest of us in bars when we have a bit of money. Where we insist on calling waiters and bar tenders like dogs, "Wewe, leta mbili baridi!"

Confessions

Confessions

But before she went, she kissed me, and suddenly I was 18 again. Having just kissed Nina. The little princess that my heart pined after then. Her father having threatened to eat my balls if he saw me with her again. I would have risked everything for that girl, Nina. Her father found out about the kiss. He snitched to my mum about it. They collaborated in giving me the most fire of beatings I would ever receive. I remember every time the whip landed on my back. I thought of her lips, they looked like 2 slices of freshly cut beef about to be deep fried. Her lips in mine felt like a fresh mango, that has had the time to ripen, served with blood red pepper. They hurt and pleasured me in equal measure.

His name is Brian

His name is Brian

The first time he kissed her. It was raining. He said he had just been walking past the girl’s hostel when it started to rain. He did not have a sweater. He had come to her room. He only wanted to keep warm until the rain passed.

THE OTHER WOMAN

THE OTHER WOMAN

He sips his beer again. His friends are still laughing but slower this time. They have not noticed his absence from them. He stands up, pretending to go to the washrooms. He instead heads to his car.

STAY WITH ME

STAY WITH ME

You pull the last suitcase to the door. You stand there looking even lovelier than you did the first time. You stop, and look at me. You ask if there is anything I would like to say. "Stay with me, please."

2 AM

2 AM

He is lying there with a knife in his chest. The room smells like a butchery. Human blood is everywhere. She is crying her eyes out about not wanting to go to jail. The other girls are busy consoling her.

MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT

MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT

She hasn't felt like this in years. You can almost smell the sweat falling down her brow. Her tongue tastes like sweat. When the night started she had no idea she would be celebrating the new year in a toilet in Tribeca....almost naked.

THIS IS HOW IT ENDS

THIS IS HOW IT ENDS

This is how it ends, or it is supposed to end. Music slow fading in the background. You, walking away, your hair shimmering slightly. Running off to catch your plane, me…promising to wait for you. But reality is a bit more believable.