A polygraph test for my next girl

I no longer trust girls.

 

attractive beautiful fashion female
Photo by Uus Supendi on Pexels.com

People come into our lives and go. That’s just the way it is. Some will leave and others will come in to take up their space. That’s life. Some leave because their part in your life is finished, they were meant to be there for a season but I think some leave because they were never supposed to be in your life at all. Maybe they just forced their way, later realized you are not who they wanted or luck what they thought you have, and instead of just leaving maturely, they create havoc in your life. Sometimes you have to resort to drastic measures just to get rid of them, which is unfortunate.

Earlier today I received a call from a friend I had not seen in quite a long time until the other day. We ran into each other as I was taking my little sister, Cony to the Huduma Centre to follow up on her Identification card that she had applied for back home in Busia.

I remember she was trying to show me something in this shop that was painted like a butchery but sold women stuff. I looked away uninterested and that’s when I saw him. He had grown a beard and also added on some weight and (OMG), a pot belly. All these didn’t do him any justice at all. He appeared old. He saw me too.

“Hey Alex,” I called out.

“Is that you man!” He cried back, attracting the attention of everyone around, as he hurried towards me.

“Siku mingi bro!” I  said, opening my arms for a hug.

I knew my friend was not quite of a hugger but went ahead nevertheless. Meanwhile Cony just stood there staring in confusion, feeling left out in this small re-union. I introduced her to Alex. By then it was almost noon and he was going to work. Since we were heading in the same direction, we took the same matatu (wish I knew it was headed to the Muthurwa market. Hate that place with passion).

Alex and I started catching up from the time we parted ways at our time in this Indian owned pharmaceutical company, Lab & Allied where we had met, just fresh from highschool. Back then just like I am now, we were hungry for everything. From money, nice clothes, girls, and those parties, especially the ones at his cousin’s house.

Whoever said you can’t choose your friend  was right. Here I was with someone all the way from Kambaland, and me you already know, having so much fun together. In Kenya it’s only politics. It’s only politics that makes one start reconsidering his place, who they are and who they hung around with. If there was no elections, then we would be the happiest country on the globe.

Unfortunately our memorable life at the company wasn’t for long as we were later dismissed for taking part in a go slow to demand for higher wages barely seven months after joining the company. What did I care! I had very little to lose. I left for home back in Busia County before coming back the following year to join college. That was the last time I had seen my dear friend.

“So how have you been man. Ama tu ni hustle?” I started as soon as we had taken our seats in this dusty matatu that didn’t seem so roadworthy.

Alex answered with his gaze fixed to the window. He hasn’t changed much, I could tell. “Eh hustle kiasi, apa kule brathe”, he paused “and by the way got married last year”.

” Wow! That’s great man.Who is she…wanna meet her!” I exclaimed at the same time lightly punching his arm, leaving Cony to giggle to herself. We all laughed and laughed so hard that when we finally calmed down, every other passenger was staring at us (almost angrily I should say).

“Ok, nakukaribisha home, na uje na…what was her name again?” Suddenly started Alex. If I say I saw that question coming I will be lying.

“Kiki”, I said trying to avoid my sister’s gaze. She knew I hated talking about her (Kiki) ” but we broke up” I added.

“I see.” That’s all Alex said looking quite surprised. He was a brave guy, sensitive type and I silently thanked him for that because I wasn’t ready for that discussion. Honestly, I don’t think I will ever be ready.

I thought I had moved on. I thought I had found closure when I forgave her, but guess I was wrong. And all these brought back those memories that for the last couple of months I’ve been trying so hard to bury. It just made me hate her even more.

I wanted her to pay!

I wanted her to go through what I was going through. She just can’t get away that easily after everything. You can say I’m acting irrational, throwing a tantrum like a kid. Well I don’t care, and that’s just how I feel.

Then when my heart finally calms down and it’s ready  to reciprocate, ready to allow my huge eyes see beauty again, I will welcome another girl.

And for the next lucky girl,  I will treat you like a queen. I will love you to the moon and back. I will kiss you with every chance I get. I will buy you presents. I will buy you beautiful roses on your birthdays. Whenever you are sad I will hold you in my arms and talk sweet nothings in your ears until you feel better again. I will write you love songs. Whenever I get a chance I will take you home to my people. I will show you my father’s land by the river Sio. I will show you my mother’s fishponds where we get fresh tilapia and catfish, and each evening you will sit beside me as we feed them, watching the sun sink down in the horizon. Holding your hand I will lead you through the sugarcane field. If you have never milked a cow I will teach you with mama’s docile cow, Lando and if you have never been to neither Busia Border nor Malaba border (land of Teso people), I will take you there. Lead you across no man’s land and into mother’s home country. I will let you know my roots.

I swear I will be your dream guy. I will treat you like no other guy has ever treated you. Fairy tale life. If all goes well, beib I will marry you and start a family together. I will get enough money and build you a beautiful home in any place of your choosing (even in Moyale or Garissa). It will have beautiful gardens and orchards, and hope it will border a river, a lake, or even an ocean like the white man’s house at the Lake Naivasha.

But first beautiful, you will have to go through a polygraph test

Once beaten twice shy. I can no longer stand lies! You can say boy I’ve learned my lesson. In life we go through pains, which is normal but it’s up to us to learn from them. We should be willing to learn from the mistakes we did in the past if we want to be better people, not just to ourselves but to all those around us.

7 thoughts on “A polygraph test for my next girl

  1. great vivid story – so many swahili expressions that even google translate doesn’t know – we open our hearts & we take our chances. only with persistence of good intentions, we are eventually rewarded 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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