Cloudy With A Chance Of Thunderstorms

The year begun as all years do… count downs, braais, fireworks and general festivities right? Well, not exactly for me. I sat on my bed on 31 December 2017, in a green dress, fighting back tears. What had happened? Well for starters, I had been forgotten by my brother (yes, I can be quite petty) and secondly, I was generally unhappy about something in my life (story for another day). Anyway, my 2018 did not start on a happy note and something was nudging on my heart that this year was going to be a year and a half, here’s why.

So 2018 was by far the most confusing, devastating and almost the worst year so far. I experienced stuff that I never had before, stuff that left me confused, distorted and shook. But, as they say, never a failure but only a learner, I have decided to look at what I can learn or what I perhaps learned from the so-called devastating year. So, here goes nothing.

1. Sometimes it won’t make sense.

This is perhaps one of the worst lessons I learned. I lost my brother 12 days after my final exam. He had been sick during the time I was writing exams. It was the most traumatizing moment of my life; constantly checking if he’s made it to the next day whilst trying to study because the exam wouldn’t write itself. I would get panic attacks in the exam hall but bore on until the end. When he finally died, I was filled with a lot of whys, hows and what not. Nothing about it made sense. I was more shocked than sad. I couldn’t understand a thing of what was going on. I didn’t, and still don’t understand how everything happened in quick succession. It just hurt and I just had questions and no answers.

Sometimes you won’t get the answers; and it won’t make sense. You must just live through it.

2. Be there

I must admit that sometimes I am a coward in the sense that I evade feeling certain things for no reason or for foolish reasons. So, during the time my brother was sick, the fear of him dying engulfed me so much that I dreaded being home and seeing him sick and hanging on to dear life. So I chose to stay away, to keep myself from feeling the pain, the fear or the stress. No one knew about it until the time I couldn’t eat or the time I suddenly broke down. I masked it good. But guess what, when I saw him lifeless on the day he died, I regretted every minute I spent away from him. I should have stayed with him to spend the last few minutes with him. Even when he lay there, shock and pain took control and I ran away. Now, I’m filled with regret for not feeling the pain, the fear or experiencing it all with him. So my advice is be there emotionally, physically or spiritually. Do not shy away from feeling the emotions because we are emotional beings and fighting emotions is equivalent to being less of a human, me thinks.

3. You failed, you are not a failure.

Another important lesson 2018 brought to my door is differentiating between failing and being a failure. Having a background of excelling, not clearing ZIALE at first attempt stung! A part of me felt like I was dull and probably spoiled by the easy undergrad exams but hey, failing is not the same as being a failure. You fail, you learn, you get up, you try again, you win! You are not a failure!!!

4. Be you, for you.

Ever caught in situations where you feel not good enough, or that you need to tone down a bit? Well, sometimes you have to decide to screw it and be you. As long as long it doesn’t hurt nobody, you sometimes need to be a little selfish and be you for you because ultimately, nobody loves you better than you.

This sounds not so Biblical right? Well, I learned a painful lesson that the more you try so hard to be something you are not, the more you rob the world of something that only you can give. So recognize what needs to change and embrace the real you.

5. Some things are right under your nose

Tongue in cheek… sometimes, you may never know that what you are looking for is right under your nose, because that is always the last place we check really. I am allowed to be a little discreet here but all in all, I learned that you sometimes won’t need to try so hard, or push so hard to get what is yours. Sometimes you will fight to get it, other times, things will just fall in place. You need wisdom to know the difference. Yep, I haven’t said much here, right?

6. Love deeply

It is amazing that with everything written about it and sung about it, love is still as abstract a concept. I guess 2018 brought me closer to the concept of love, in whatever form, shape and size. Love entails forgiving a lot, caring too much, being selfless and trying so hard to be a better version of yourself. I was tested to the very core and the only thing that kept me going was love; love for the thing, and love for the things. Yep, not saying much too.

But love deeply. Sometimes you will love and the object of the affection won’t appreciate it or see it, love nonetheless.

7. Blessings in adversity

I don’t need to overemphasize the horrors of 2018 but one thing I learned is that you will face trials and some of them will be because humans are jealous, stupid and evil, and that is why we need Jesus. But, no matter the adversity, man-made or God-ordained, you need to realize that there is a blessing. It may not be a material blessing and sometimes it won’t come in a way our perverted selves will imagine but it is there. For example, when someone I trusted threw me under a moving bus and I’m not even exaggerating, I learned not to trust anyone. That is a blessing, a blessing of a lesson about life.

Adversity also gives you an opportunity to introspect, and help you realize that sometimes you are the major reason behind all the screw ups; that it is your fault and you need to change that. What better blessing than becoming a better person for you and those around you?

8. Seek first to understand

We are humans and that means we are brutes and selfish. When something happens, our first instinct is usually selfish in that we will react based on us and not the other person. What if I told you that people always have reasons for why they act the way they do? We don’t know that because we don’t seek first to understand. We are quick to see things from our perspective and arrive at a conclusion. But, seek firs to understand before acting. Put yourself in their shoes and see how effective that judgmental side of yours will be…

9. Chase your dreams

The long, sad year drove me further away from my dreams. I felt dull, defeated and stuck. But, no matter what happens, I have learnt to keep that hope alive within me. I watched a cartoon a long time ago called ‘Ratatouille;’ a foodie rat that was determined to be the best chef ever. I guess that rat’s determination to be a great chef is what we all need to chase our dreams no matter how many road blocks life throws at us.

10. Nurture your friendships

Last but not the least, nurture those friendships. I discovered that my friends would go all out to do something for me. It humbled me to see how much they fought for me, were there for me, prayed for me or listened to me. So nurture those friendships because sometimes family will fail and friends will be all you got.

The weather man did not tell me how 2018 would look. It was cloudy with a high chance of thunderstorms. Nonetheless, I choose not to focus on the pain, hurt and disappointment but to focus on the lessons learnt. It was not my best year but it was more revealing, full of change and growth and definitely eye-opening. This list of lessons is not exhaustive as I have probably learnt a lot more than the 10 penned down. You may not agree with some of them and that is okay; they are purely a product of my experience and viewpoint.

Here’s to a great 2019. To life, success, happiness, love, joy. Yes, there may be a few thunderstorms here and there but guess what, we are stronger than this. Whatever didn’t kill us, had better start running!!

I Hate That I Love You

She hugged him tightly, almost failing to believe her eyes that this bundle of joy had come out her. With tears in her eyes, she kissed him softly, caressing him with one hand, whilst using the other to hold on to her husband.

“Honey, we made this!” She said, fighting back the tears.

It had been a long and rough journey. After a number of miscarriages, she wasn’t excited when she discovered she was pregnant for the fourth time. She didn’t even break the news to anyone. Having been failed a number of times, she just sat there hopeless and not giving thought to what was growing inside of her.

Bu the weeks turned into months and she got past the scary trimester. She thought she’d lose it again but no, the little man grew on and on until she couldn’t keep it a secret any longer. Of course, they talked.

“We hope it lasts this time.”

“Oh boy, but why so many failed pregnancies…”

She battled the defeat and bore on. Cravings, swollen feet, morning sickness. She bore it all until 9 months done.

Even then, she was unsure of what was going to happen. What if she couldn’t make it, or what if he didn’t make it? The doubt and fear gripped her but she pulled through and 24 hours later, she held him in her arms. Her first son.

It was done. She became a mother.

She sung him to sleep, played with him, stayed up all night while others were sleeping. She watched every development of his limbs, muscle. She studied him intensely. She found love.

Then he started growing up.

The more he learnt to walk, the further he walked away from the values imparted by mummy. The more he learned to smile, the more he charmed the innocence away from him.

He kept late hours, flattering innocent girls; making them feel like they were the only ones when he had multiple chats open. He begun to drink and smoke. He begun to party and play hard. He found it difficult to do this thing called ‘school’ because it was a sheer waste of time. Mummy and Daddy provided everything, what’s the point?

He became disrespectful, rowdy and foolish. He became the cause of many of his mother’s tears.

Where had she gone wrong? What hadn’t she done? She thought of all three lost babies. Would they have turned out like this? Was it the reason why she had to wait long? Was this a signal from above?

She cried again, this time not for the birth of a child but for the rebirth of her child.

Sometimes the things we love will bring us heartache; sometimes the things we love will not love us back. Sometimes, even after doing all that we can, things will go south.

Love is a risk, life is a risk. Will you love knowing fully well that the one you love wont love you back? Would you invest knowing that things may plummet tomorrow? Are you willing to give your all for something or something that will or may never work?

All real life is taking risks; sometimes the love you feel for what will hurt you is the only drive you have.

A Woman And A Half

I crept in on her around 05:40 so that I could be the first to wish her a happy birthday. She was startled by a hug from behind and a kiss on her cheek. She smiled softly and said thank you. I looked at her smile, it was masked with a lot of emotion. The past few months had been tough on her and in that moment I felt words were not enough to show my love and appreciation for a woman who had sacrificed her life so that mine would be better.

I was born of a woman of valor. She is clothed in wisdom and strength. The truest definition of a Proverbs 31.

She would wake up early enough to ensure that we had full stomachs before heading out to school, and then she stayed behind to ensure that we found a home when we came back. She was never late for her usual school runs; sometimes she came too early but it was all a depiction of her true love and her incessant desire that we were safe.

There were times when we pissed her off and we would get it; they were also times when we did our best and made her proud. In spite of all this, the only thing that made her really proud was us having a relationship with God. I remember her waking me up as early as 5am on a Sunday so that we attend the first mass. I dreaded it sometimes because I loved sweet sleep but in hindsight, the only thing she wanted was for her kids to know God, personally. She would lock me in on a one-to-one with her so that I memorized the rosary and prepare for my baptism and so the day I finally got baptized, she felt accomplished (I was gonna drop a bombshell 4 years later but that’s a story for another day.)

My Ngoni princess taught me hard work. There would be times when she would round up my brothers to raid our toys and burn them simply because she felt we were becoming too lazy. I hated it but trust me, I won’t hesitate to make the same decisions for my kids.

She made me learn how to do the dishes, cook, take care of business and still go to school and act like a boss.

“You never know how life will turn out tomorrow, learn what you can today so that you may be able to face whatever.” That is still her favourite line.

She was proud of my grades, and always enjoyed collecting my school report or coming for awards day but she insisted that I should always remember that anyone can be smart. That I should never become proud of my accomplishments because anyone else can also get there. She emphasized that I become successful yet humble, willing to help others whenever I can.

She labored to make me independent.

“Don’t let this last born nonsense get into your head girl!” She would always say, whenever I wanted to be babied. I even recall asking her if she was really my mother! (Umm yeah.) And so I learned to live apart from mummy and not be overly dependent on her; she would veto my camp outs (after fights, tantrums and tears of course), and school trips that required me to spend days away from home because she wanted me to be ready for anything.

Speaking of being ready for anything, I thought it would be wise to learn how to ride a bicycle but the odds weren’t in my favour and I have a permanent scar on my head to show for it. Guess who ran around hospitals in the night? Yep, mommy dearest. Ask me again if I can ride a bike.

So she distracted my attention from learning how to ride bikes to getting there on time so that you wont need a bike.

 “What time is it from where you are standing? Clearly we are not using the same watch. You don’t learn at your grandpa’s school (recently it has been ‘you don’t work for your grandpa’)!” That always woke me up. There ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why I always wake up at 5… well not always but 5am nonetheless.

My mother believes in rising early, doing your chores and getting there on time. She believes in giving everything your best shot. She believes that you are late because you wanted to and not because dynamics worked against you (I’m still learning and appreciating this though.)

She is trying to mold me into a Proverbs 31 and that is a welcome move.

Another favourite line:

“It is 7:30pm. Where are you?”

I can only stay out late if it is work, school or church.

“I was beginning to think you were with my son-in-law.”

“Oh mummy, son-in-law, do you want me to get you one?”

*Face changes*

“Can you just concentrate on school and stop this nonsense! I want you to get a good man… [Indiscreet chatter].”

Because she was constantly saying no to me dating, I asked her what her ideal son-in-law was and you guessed right: God fearing and bloody hard-working!

“You should never have to suffer! If he puts God first, he’ll respect you.”

I sit there listening and crossing boxes on some folks I meet but she immediately stops talking and throws in a ‘how is school?’ as a ‘chill’ signal.

It is my mother’s birthday and I thought I could pen down who she is to me and recount the memories of what she has taught me. In case you don’t have a mom, my mom can be your mom and I’m not even joking (there was this one time when she took in a random girl she met on the street and fought so hard to get her reunited with her family. Guys, I was raised by an angel!)

My mum is simply the best! No shadow of doubt. And for the record, I tell her these things on a daily basis because words of affirmation and quality time are her love language!

Happy birthday to the best mum. My hearthstone.

This Isn't Zambia

 This isn’t Zambia

The Creator made her gold. Solid gold. She was pure, beautiful, endowed with aesthetic appeal. We loved her, it was a wonderful feeling to belong to her. We called her home.

The spirit of Ubuntu reigned. We operated in concert and sung her anthem with a reverberation of a genuine sense of belonging. We stood definitely proud and wonderfully free.

But, her beauty lured some. Her healthy face, succulent and full breasts made them lust after her. They joined us as we praised her; they sung so beautifully, we were sold.

“They must have good intentions…”

And just like that, we let them in.

But alas, they raped, defiled, mutilated, and harassed our once virgin beauty. She was left broken and bare without the sparkle of health.

This isn’t Zambia.

Our once beautiful home has been turned into a painful desert, with nothing but weeds, twigs, bushes and shrubs.

The air is laden with corruption, disrespect for rule of law, disregard for human rights. There is freedom of expression, improperly so-called but no freedom after expression. There is a miasma of barbarism, crimes against humanity, cruelty and insensitivity.

The homeless have their shacks taken away; the orphans have their parents taken away still. Yes, even the little they have is taken away. The poor get poorer while the rich get richer.

Propaganda is rampant. Black is made to pass off as white? This isn’t Zambia.

We are made to beg for what is rightfully ours because selfishness has crept into our hearts. The ones meant to protect, hurt and kill instead. The lighthouse is covered by storms so that it fails to give light to the poor wayfarer.

The young who will be the leaders of tomorrow are mercilessly taken away for airing out their grievances.

One day, they committed a huge crime. They took away an innocent heroine who was a victim of circumstances. Her blood cries out from the ground. It demands justice. In a land so free, or so they say, no one should never have to beg for dear life.

Was Zambia at war? Did we have an intruder sent to disturb peace? Was she an enemy? Hell no, why then did she have to die a martyr’s death at the hands of the chosen protectors? This isn’t Zambia.

‘Stand and sing of Zambia, proud and free?” proud of what? Free from what? The caged bird doesn’t sing of freedom. Landlocked in spiritual, political, social, economic and religious poverty; hiding behind a religious garb to cover our sins and cowardice.

The flag that once gave us pride makes us shudder.

The green that once stood for our resources has turned brown due to the change in the intellectual climate. The red that stood for the blood of our freedom fighters now stands for the innocent souls that have died at the hands of the so-called protectors!

The eagle doesn’t fly anymore; it’s dancing with chickens.

The Ubuntu in the black color is gone!

Our selfishness and short-sightedness has ruined us; our virgin damsel is ruined all because we couldn’t distinguish between love and lust. This isn’t Zambia.

This is not a political agenda; it’s a moral cry for social justice!

We have lost our beloved! The image we have now is not Zambia. It may look like it, it may even smell like it but this isn’t Zambia!

Our beloved is lost… but we must fight to restore whatever has remained; try and give her beauty for ashes.

We are in a mess but definitely not out of the Creator's mercy.

This isn’t Zambia, but it can be.

My Lover, My Friend

He was in my circle and we were friends, good friends, maybe even best friends. We met through a mutual friend and quickly grew closer than “a brother.” There were times when I considered him as more than that but he was way better as a friend. Well, they say marry your lover and your friend but right now he was just a friend, not too sure about lover.

I helped him choose his girlfriends, gave ideas on how to sustain the relationship but when it failed as all others did, I was there, helping to pick up the pieces. I let him cry on my shoulder, I let him keep me up at night because he wanted to talk to someone. Somehow, I felt the resurgence of my feelings but I thought myself too strong to handle it and control it.

And so we continued spending more time together; I was helping him through the break up after all. We went shopping together, had ice cream, watched movies or played chess. He was so happy, and that made me happy.

People eventually started asking about us.

“We are just friends,” I responded, but deep down I hoped we weren’t.

One day, we decided to talk.

“I seem to have a way of ruining good things, don’t I?” he asked.

“Well, you know the song… ‘If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life…’”

“’Never make a pretty woman your wife…’ haha. Well, are you saying I’m miserable because I go for the pretty ones?”

“Just look at her. She’s drop dead gorgeous. You know, I wonder, what really went wrong?

“Gorgeous she was. She was also very caring, loving and all that. It is just that we were incompatible on a number of things and before you say it, I knew all this before we started dating. I just hoped that the more we knew each other, the easier it would get. Clearly not and here we are!”

“So what would you rather have, a trophy wife or peace of mind?”

“I want both.”

“No you can’t have both; well, you can but it’s rare.”

“It’s rare, but very possible.” He said the last line with an air of flirtation and leaned in. My head was hot, I pulled back.

“So which one do you think you are?”

“This is not about me.”

“Which one do you think you are?”

“You know what…”

“WHICH ONE ARE YOU?”

He wore a serious face as he asked the same question for the third time. I could feel myself getting emotional and tears almost dropping. This was a defining moment.

“None... well at least for you.”

“There! You are doing it again. Downgrading yourself and thinking you are not good enough…”

“Well, do you blame me? You make it so impossible for me to feel good about myself. I am both to someone else, or even one to another but I’m none to you. None.”

“Well, I never said that.”

“Then why haven’t you…? You know what, never mind. Stop thinking with your emotions.”

“I know you will pin this on my emotional imbalance but trust me, I say this with a sober mind. You are the trophy, the peace of mind. Sometimes I wonder where we would be if I chose to let what I feel have free rein.”

“What do you mean?”

He drew in and fixed his eyes on mine. I felt hot again.

“Well, maybe this is not the right time for this discussion but just know that I have always had you as a friend, but something within me has wanted you as a lover too.”

There it was. He said what I had wished for all this time. There it was!”

***

I see the picture of that beautiful day every day in our living room, hanging next to our wedding frame. My friend had become my lover. Everything had happened as I had imagined. I found love, true love; love that made me walk down the aisle and make a vow to be a lover and friend for all seasons.

I found my beloved!

I Fell For A Douche

I walked into a room full of tall people, light people, dark people, shorter people… great characters, bad characters… in the midst of this varied choice, I set my eyes on fire… the blue and orange looked good, I was pulled to it. It never hesitated but proceeded to reciprocate. Unrequited love? Nope. Here it was, ever loving, ever giving, I was warmed in.

It spoke the right words, did the right things. I felt giddy; a little over the moon. It was fire and ice (umm literally).

Random acts of kindness? Check. You need attention? Check. Before I finished my sentences, it delivered. I felt like a princess, scratch that, a queen. My king was in charge and I loved it.

But I was just an experiment, another one of his escapades. It was easy because I was naïve. He knew what cards to play and how to play them. All hearts? Yep.

Broke down most of my walls and I was getting ready to finally give in. I mean, how often do you find the looks, the books, the nooks in one? In crooks of course, but hey God had blessed (more like the devil, but who cared?)

The voice of reason? Hushed! Sixth sense? Silenced! Significant others? Well… do you really understand what it is like to fall in love? I respect you but can you at least let me be happy?

God sensed it and was like no, this one must be saved for a gentleman. So, Son and Holy Spirit, it is show time!

I resisted, fought hard and hushed the throbbing on my heart. Spirit was speaking but I didn’t want to listen.

Slideshow? Yes. That seemed to work. Smart move, God. So He was like okay fine, I understand you are in love (with a sarcastic chuckle) but hey, how well do you know this guy? You don’t need to answer that, I’ll show you.

I sat for 90 minutes reviewing my little fire’s life history, present and future. What? Yes!

“Do not give in, my dear. I know he’s seemingly good but what I have in mind is way better. Don’t give in!”

“But if he’s so wrong, why does he feel so right?”

“Must we start talking about sin? Okay no, but you know your heart is deceitful and so you’ll naturally gravitate towards evil.”

“Okay then why are you taking so long to bring the so- called right one?”

“I knew this would come up… just let this go child, let him go.”

So I went to quench the fire, hoping he would just do that thing he does that makes me rethink my decisions and be like ‘I wasn’t free this Saturday but I guess we could go…’ but I had to let go no matter what and so to disturb my thoughts and prevent me from changing my mind, the Holy Spirit looked down.

Okay, okay, here goes. This fire was warm and all but I gotta let go. You are not right, this is not right.

Dumbfounded, he just walked away. Nope, he did not put up a fight. Like all douches, he was not ready for a challenge:

“She seems to know what she wants, I’m in no mood for that,” he must have thought to himself as he walked away.

Now I struggled to get him out of my hair. I badly wanted to text him and say I had played the fool.

It’s hard to let go when you fall for a douche. But, you must choose peace of mind over giddiness. Choose security over fiery impetus passions. Chemistry must be there, darn right it must be but don’t be blinded by feelings. Open your eyes, see the character before you decide to love.

Stay woke. Douches are all around us!

Irreplaceable

It’s exactly 17:06. I check my phone and see the message I had dreaded to see for the longest time. In that moment, I’m numb. A certain chill rushes through my body and sadness engulfs me. I lose my mind and keep hoping and praying I misunderstood the text.

Those around me see my pale frame and being used to me being all bubbly, they inquire what’s wrong. I am unable to explain, so I just cry and point to my phone. They read the message too and tell me to calm down. How can I calm down when a piece of me has been taken away? Dude I was with you in the morning, why didn’t you warn me? Why didn’t you tell me you had plans of leaving?

I make my way home, hoping it’s a nasty prank… dumbfounded, I just see your lifeless body being taken away. As much as it hurts, it’s true: you are no more. I can’t figure out how I feel, but the tears flow fast. It hurts!

You lived a number of years on earth yet we only spent a few together… and just when I thought we were given an opportunity to get together and make up for lost time, you were taken away. Three weeks is too short a time man. You should have waited. Do you know how good I got at throwing those punches you taught me? Do you know how confident I became just because I knew how to fight back? I was a girl yes, but a tough one because of you…

And do you know how good I got at Math? It’s because of those persistent questions you gave me and the countless homework you helped me with. You were a brother, a friend, a mother, a sister, a teacher and a neat freak. How is it that your life just turned out this way?

They say you are in a better place, that you ran your race. They say you suffered long and it was time to be free from the pain… well you left me with more questions than answers.

It’s amazing how you brought us closer to each other. It seems your passing lifted a huge burden off our shoulders so much that we are free to go anywhere, at whatever time. Why is your demise seemingly the reason why good things are happening?

Whenever I think about the fact that I’ll never see you again, my heart breaks. I miss you with every fiber in me. Sometimes I forget you are no more and plan for you. It is so soon but it hurts so badly. You took everything and now it feels like I have to teach myself how to do certain things all over again.  It’s obvious I’m not doing well… do you see these eyes? When have you known me to cry?

As you rest, know that you are irreplaceable. I have a void in my heart that will be had to fill. I hope to see you again, to hear your voice again.

Sad Violinist

He played sad songs… filled many an audience’s eye with tears.

Someone was bold enough to ask him the story behind the songs, yet another simply said:

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

Somehow that is all they could say and I don’t blame them.

I mean how do you talk about life in the valleys if you have spent your whole life in the mountains? How do I expect you to understand what it means to dance in the rain when you live in a desert region?

So sometimes what I need is empathy, not the surface pity little sorry’s but the hard stuff. To know that you feel what I’m feeling, that you have been down my road and that you completely understand my tears, and my heart ache.

So tell me… have you walked in my shoes? Have you seen torture, pain and brutality?

Have you had the privilege of hearing angry words? What about being caught in the middle of a wrangle?

What about worrying where someone is and wondering why they just won’t pick up your call and end your emotional torture?

Have you ever had to wonder why someone would consistently break your heart with no remorse?

Have you refused yourself sleep even when your eyelids are begging for mercy just because one close to you was unwell?

Have you been afraid of the night because bad things seemingly happen then?

Have you been afraid to sleep because you don’t want nightmares?

Have you cried for all this to end?

Have you ever pled with God to take you away because you couldn’t handle the pain?

Have you wondered why you were born? Have you ever hit rock bottom? Does it really hurt? Does it hurt you so bad that you couldn’t handle it anymore and just wanted to die?

Have you ever felt so helpless in the face of turmoil? That instead of helping, you just chose to cry because tears freely and effortlessly flow?

That is the journey of a sad violinist.

Do you still ask why he plays sad songs? Seek first to understand his struggle and maybe it’ll answer your questions….

D flat, minor… and the rhythm continues

[Enter sad song]

Love Makes It Easy

“I need to see you,” he squeaked. This is the third time he is making this request and it seems like it will be ignored as with all others but forlorn hope still pushes him to try and try again.

She thinks of ignoring him again but the humanity in her beckons on her to at least be kind. So, she gains the courage to respond and a rendezvous is set. She wasn’t looking forward to it.

And so the days wore on and the dreaded date came. It was the same story: how he loved her and was the best man for her (speak for yourself dude). She just sat there and stared at him, with a blank expression. Everything about this situation was a drag. Oh how she wished she was home!

Attention from the wrong person is torture!

But then she met another, whose presence made her cells dance. Suddenly, she looked forward to dates, movie nights and lakeside strolls. She hang close to her phone because she didn’t want to miss anything from him. What before seemed like hell was now making her little heart dance. And she loved every moment of it.

And because she loved every minute of it, she gave effortlessly.

And so he wondered: she said she never liked movies, or at least that’s what she told him. Never mind strolls by the lake. How come her feed was replete with the same things she claimed she hated? What was it about this guy that made her love stuff that she apparently didn’t love, or was it a mere ploy to shun away from spending time with him?

So he asked her and boy she answered:

“See, you are a nice guy (enter friend zone). You are loving and all that. But, I wish you would stop. Stop stalking me, stop following me around and trying so hard to get my attention. It is so clear that nothing good can come out of this. Think about me too; I’m the one for you, are you the one for me?”

“I have found him who males my cells dance. Please don’t ruin it. If you love me as you say, then probably seeing me happy will carry the day.”

“You said you didn’t like mushrooms on your pizza!”

“Did I? Well, maybe I didn’t. But now I do. The thing about this is that it feels so effortless. I don’t have to drag my feet or dread our evening dates. Yes, I’m now more open to things I thought I didn’t like. I’m sorry to say this, but maybe it wasn’t the pizza I disliked.”

She made a point.

He walked home and fought so hard to forget her. He hoped that his heart will finally settle for someone who would easily do random things for him simply because love makes things so easy!

Nothing is ever too hard if the heart is in it. Maybe it is high time you and I learned that love makes it super easy!!!!

Big Fat Unfaithfulness

He dropped her at her place. The night was still young and he wanted to spend more time with her but she said as much as she would love to, she better be tucked in early because she had a ‘busy day tomorrow.’

He stared into her eyes and navigated the meaning of the word ‘busy.’ Avoiding an argument, he brushed the thought aside. After the pleasantries, he watched go up into her cabin as he drove away.

He woke up to a “hey love, just started off. Have a nice day, love you xoxo” text. He blushed and cringed at the same time. As he stared on the phone, finding the appropriate response, the house help budged in.

She looked distressed as she held the telephone in her hands.

“Wait, what are you doing in my room without knocking? I could be in compromising attire for crying out loud!”

“Sorry boss, I just got this call from April and Ginger’s school that they are yet to be picked up. It’s almost 8!”

What?

This is the fourth time his wife had done this. It was getting dark and his two kids were out there in the cold. He had assumed that she had picked them up and gone off on her frolic but clearly not.

He quickly dressed up and sped off to salvage his children from the cold.

He reassured them that mummy was just running late. He even bought them food to make them forget.

“What is wrong with this woman? Why can’t she learn to put her family first? Why does such a beautiful woman make it so darn hard to love?” The thoughts ran through his head.

Around midnight, the bedroom door crept open. Mummy was finally home, but the kids didn’t get a chance to see her; they were fast asleep.

She went on about how her day was, how time seemed to slip through her hands. She was getting good at this.

As he looked at her beautiful frame, trying so hard to conceal her misdeeds, his heart was drawn out to her. He jumped out of bed and tried to lean close to her. The smell of booze and men’s cologne repulsed him. He knew where she was coming from and what exactly she had been doing but for fear of confrontations and back and forth arguments, he let it slide as he had done for years.

As the night wore on, and she was fast asleep, totally oblivious to what happened during the day, his mind was turning. How and where did he go wrong? How did he land in this mess? Here was a woman, beautiful in every sense of the word yet she was the cause of so much heartache, both to him and his poor children.

Should he forget about her and do what she does? His mind was driven to the house help. There she was: ever available, ever caring. He would be lying if he said that the thought of him and her didn’t cross his mind. And what about that co-worker, pretty and smart. But no, he wouldn’t cheat. No matter how unfaithful his wife was, he wouldn’t cheat. Partly because he didn’t want the tables to be turned against him and partly because he feared they were all the same. What if down the road, they all become like her?

What was the assurance that all that is glittering now won’t tell out to be base metal? Hold up, who is he fooling? He saw all the signs way before but ignored them. His mind quickly flashed back to that night when he drove her home because she had hectic errands to take care of the following day… he was uneasy then and the uneasiness only grew worse… why, oh why!

The message alert tone buzzed again.

He had been staring at the ‘I love you xoxo’ for so long. He didn’t believe it, scratch that, he didn’t believe her. So, caring for his peace and the well-being of his unborn children, should there be any, he garnered the courage and responded in the most honest way ever:

“When you get back, we need to talk.”

Men Are Trash

She was born with love in her heart, never mind the whole tabula rasa shenanigan. She was born with the desire for affection, protection and adoration. She was willing to give it, as much as she was willing to receive it.

The first person who was supposed to give her this pure love shattered her hopes. He was neither the object nor subject of affection. Instead of protecting, he hurt, instead of loving, he hated. He was the complete opposite of everything she wanted and needed.

So she grew up fearful and insecure. She wasn’t taught true love. Her feelings weren’t protected but her soul was mutilated, broken into and defiled. Love became synonymous with fear.

She grew on. Those who came along brought nothing but hurt, pain and disdain. The first guy soiled the painting, the rest just added rotten cherries. Somehow, all the men that came into her life just came to take away from her… they got, and got, and got while she lost, lost and lost.

So she hated all men. She believed they were trash and wanted nothing to do with them. They belonged to the dustbin, as all trash does.

Would you blame her?

See we live in a society that teaches girls to be ladies, strong women, good mothers, good wives. Who teaches our boys to be gentlemen, strong men, good fathers, good husbands?

We teach our girls to guard their virginity, cause way back it used to be their pride (and it should be) but who teaches our sons the same? Suddenly being a man is equated to how many escapades you have and not how polite or respectable you should be!

Our boys aren’t taken care of! Our sons are left to learn the tricks of life by chance yet our girls are taught moral standing.

This isn’t a pro-feminism post, Lord knows I am not feminist, and I don’t intend to be. This is a passionate cry for true manliness, for courtesy, true handsomeness!

Boys should be taught how to be strong yet sympathetic, how to be hardworking yet cooperative, how to love and protect, how to love and not lust. Our boys are devoid of the training of how to be men in the sense of the word.

Son, it’s okay to cry. It’s okay to fail, now pick yourself up and admit you lost. Sometimes, you’ll have to admit that you lost to a girl, not because of affirmative action but because she put in the extra effort that you didn’t. Your sister may be better than you in one respect and that is perfectly fine. You were meant to be different albeit equal.

Son, it’s okay to love just one woman, to provide for your family, to care for your parents and work hard at your job. It’s okay to be a leader and it’s perfectly okay to watch soccer, as long as you remember that there is life and people outside that match.

Son, it’s perfectly normal to have sexual urges but you can control them. Why, because you are not an animal!

And most importantly son, it’s okay to never lay your hand on a woman. Control your emotions; your hands are for cuddling and not for clenching fists! So, love those women, protect them and meet their love language, because they are willing to do the same for you.

Find that one lady that tickles your fancy, one that fits you perfectly, marry her and ever be faithful to her. If she delivers beautiful kids, be the perfect father: love them, protect them and let them know that there is love in this world and that men have loads of it to give.

Now men are not trash, society is!