Text Me Back

I miss you. I miss us. What happened to us? Wait! Did I make the same mistake again? Shit! How too loving of me!

I find it typical that I only thought of myself here. But given that being human is being selfish, I guess I am somehow justified. Come to think of it, being typical is as typical in man as it is to find an error in them, in this case, the error being ‘being typical’. How selfish of me.

I am feeling a bit guilty right now, but the feeling of missing you is still here.

I miss you. I miss being missed by you. I miss us missing us. We were genuine. I wonder if we still are. To some extent, I think I miss the younger version of us. Back then we had just enough responsibilities to juggle around us we pleased. So we always had the time to love and be loved back. Why do we let growing up kill the chemistry we had? Is there any of it left? Tell me that we still exist. Tell me that once in a while you always think of me and that you probably do not reach out to say hi because you think you might be disturbing my busy self. I want to believe this. Because if what I fear is the truth, my heart will break. And that shit isn’t good for anyone.

Tell me you still love me. Cause I still love you. And the part of me that does, does so quite deeply. Matter of fact, I brag to people about having such a good friend! What am I missing? Did I do something wrong to you? I keep thinking so because this silence between us is torture. It should be quite evident so far that I fear to lose you. However, what I fear most is that you probably do not fear to lose me. I still believe that you are my best friend.

Text me back when you get this.

Question Your Pursuit

There are special people in our lives that we’d really love to at least hear from everyday if not be with all the time.

And the fact that we can’t really sucks.

But I need you to pause for a minute and think with me.

Do you realize that you are someone’s someone special?

And that above all these others you are God’s special child?

Not to sound preachy, but its good to once in a while take a break from who or what we are chasing and turn around to look at who or what is chasing us. It could as well be the love we so much seek, or even a truth that we are in need of. Who knows? Probably what you are looking for could be right there with you!

Don’t get so lost in chasing things till you forget why you are doing the chasing in the first place. Always question the bias, always be aware of your self and always appreciate what and who you have around you.

You feel me?

You Need Yourself

We often find ourselves forgiving others. And in other circumstances, we find ourselves giving to others. And in this normalcy of life, we forget that we too are human, despite the natural fact that we love ourselves more.

We must learn to be PATIENT with ourselves and to be UNDERSTANDING too.

If we don’t get to truly know the person that we are, how can we expect the same of the world

You are Royalty. God, the King of kings recognizes His child in you.

I Was a Boy Once – V

How I Missed It

I was introduced to love through soap operas and fairy tales. Cinderella was a favorite, but my best has always been The Beauty and the Beast. I might be a hopeless romantic, I haven’t given it any much thought really, but I know that love is something I adore and hope to truly find someday. And do get me right. I do not expect that I will one day meet this amazing damsel and that it will be love at first sight, then marriage and a happily ever after thereafter. No. I am a realist too. I believe in two people being confident enough to say that they could live together without fear of judgment, that they need each other, in them committing together to whatever bond they believe they share, and in two people taking full responsibility for whatever happens to their bond of mutual sentimental interests. Growing up I had my crushes like every other boy did, but I was always the shy one. I remember I once cried because I could not tell a girl that I liked her for I feared I could get rejected. Silly, right? It was so bad that she even came and asked me what the cause of my tears was. She apparently felt the same for me. But then the ego couldn’t let me let her see me crying. So, I dried my tears quickly and told her that nothing was the matter. She left me there, and I hoped that I had done the right thing. This was in class six. More than a year and a half later in class eight, my feelings for her still existed. The only difference was that I was now good at hiding them. We both, her and I, loved the fact that we liked each other. But no one ever made the move to ask for more. I was always trying to catch a glimpse of Winnie’s beautiful face, and she would always silence her desk mates every when I sang so that she could hear my voice better. It stayed this way until one day when we accidentally touched cheeks. My lips were close enough and from a far, it looked like I was trying to kiss her. She did not show any anger or joy that day, but I heard her friends talk about it the next day during break time so I knew she was hoping for more. I got even more scared and decided to fully withdraw. This turned her into my biggest enemy. It got so bad she pierced my back every when she could with the pin of a mathematics construction compass just to get back at me. I never went to the teacher to report her. I felt I deserved it. I remember quite a lot about her still. I guess became a romantic way before I could define romance.

This is why I still have feelings for Melanie and why I easily forgave John. I should tell you about him. John is someone I can’t quite remember how we met. He was a sport. Older than me, wiser than me, smarter than me, funnier than me, more a gentleman than me, John was the ideal man any girl would have ever wished for as a boyfriend if not a friend. He always had this positive energy around him that had the power to place a smile on everyone’s face, no matter who they were. He was loved by all and in his presence, I felt like an amateur. He even knew more music that I did back then. He was outright great.

And having had the Winnie experience in primary school and the Stella experience in high school, I was not looking for any girls when I got into campus. I haven’t told you about Stella yet, but I will. I joined campus an innocent young man focused on making my parents proud. I didn’t disappoint them, but I did disappoint me more than once. And Losing Melanie is at the top of all my self-disappointments.

Apparently, John was in love with Melanie long before I even knew Melanie existed. And although his love was genuine, he had not disclosed it to her yet. So, she did not know about it. She, on the other hand, liked him as a friend, and her heart was facing towards a different person, me. I had no clue that someone as amazing as Melanie was contemplating on giving their beautiful heart to me. So, when she finally did, I really did not know what to do with it. I couldn’t even touch her the night we spent together for I feared it was wrong to. John in his wisdom, however, did not give up hope and fought hard and intelligently until he had a way with her.

We were quite close friends me and John, but then somehow, he was no longer ever around. He’d disappear from around me and then reappear and act like nothing had happened. Being the good guy, and the naïve one, I couldn’t read between the lines. So slowly but surely, Melanie was drifting away. I remember once when I asked her about her day.

“How were the classes today?”

“They were Ok. Although lecturer alikua anabore sana. Imagine karibu nilale class na sijawahi skia kulala nikiwa class tena.”

“Si lecture yenu leo ilikua moja tu.?”


“After lunch ama asubuhi?”

“Ilikuwa ya after lunch.”

“Na uko sure si food ulikuwa umekula mob?”

This I said on a light note so that she could laugh and deny it and I could laugh at how she’d defend herself from the accusation I had made of her having eaten more than enough food for lunch.

“Aih. Sidhani. Even though leo nilipelekwa cafeteria.”

“Nani huyo alishinda sportpesa pia mimi nikamhande? Ni Jane?”

“Hahahaaha. Ati Jane? Huyo hata hajui football ni nini.”

“Hehehe. Ulipelekwa na nani?”

“John ndo alinipeleka. Yaani sijui leo alikua na nini. Huskii alibuy hadi afya akakuja nazo tukunywe na lunch?”

I still didn’t see it even at this point. I was busy learning how I could love her better, while John was already doing it. He never stopped at the lunch dates or the frequent visits to her room. He was already playing with her psychology and winning. I guess he loved her more than I did because unlike me, he was already prepared.

I am looking at their wedding invitation card. It is very beautiful and its design is happy and heartwarming. It is the most beautiful form of an invitation to one’s own heartbreak party the way I see it. Should I go or should I not?

I Was a Boy Once – IV

You Forgot Me

We were both drunk that night, but she never seemed to care about it. She got what she wanted and what she believed she deserved. She never cared then nor now, three years later. And even after that memorable night, I still could not imagine me ever loving her. I always thought that she would one day get tired of loving me and quit. I knew we’d break up long before it ever happened, but not on the terms that made us part ways a year ago.
I later ended up falling for her real bad, and this she was thankful to God for until she met John. John is the guy she will be marrying in December. We still talk, her and I, and although we both tell and try to show each other that we have moved on, deep down I know I haven’t. And this chemistry that still exists between us tells me that she too has not moved on.

But again, isn’t campus love always referred to as child’s play? Isn’t showing emotions termed childish when we grow up? Love becomes a mental thing and the heart is forced to forget what it feels. Convenience becomes the only reason men and women love and sayings like Love is for the birds start being relevant. However, when my turn to burn away all love emotions came, I just wasn’t brave enough. I couldn’t understand the strength that they said came from lying to myself.

These emotions still live within me, and it is this that made me write to her telling her about this dream I once had.

“I had this dream that someone asked me what you meant to me. I breathed out heavily and thought carefully so that I could only say what was true to my heart, in my heart, and from my heart. A strange small feeling then raptured inside my belly, and as I looked more into my heart, the joy of realizing how beautiful you are took me into its bosom and without my knowing it, I was smiling.

I replied to their question and said.

“A single heartbeat of hers serves two hearts, hers and mine, so she is generous. Her happiness is so selfless, it engulfs all my sorrow. She hardly says when she hurts and often prefers fighting her own battles, a strong woman. And although she lies at times, her love is so true, its sincerity drowns her quite necessary lies. She is not perfect. No. I remember her saying it to me that no one ever is. But yet again, that’s how she seems to me. She inspires me in a way none ever has, and I pray what we have lasts. And lest I forget, her hug is out of this world. You can feel its truth. The first time I was in her arms, that moment, refuses to leave my dreams. And even now, when we hug, I try to stay in her arms a second longer. She does it so well, I’m a proud addict. She’s just amazing. The words “I love you” to me feel not appreciating enough, yet they are the most cherished words any lovers ever exchanged. It wets my eyes a little, every time I have to say how much I love her, and sometimes I also run out of words. I really do love her. I hope she knows”

I still felt like my response was barely enough. And I could have said more, but they seemed satisfied by it as was, so I stopped.

You can’t imagine how much I’d have loved to hear the 143 words from you. I knew well enough that you loved me, but enough is not absolutely. Call it jealousy or whatever you will, but worried is what you made me feel most of the time. And I know this is not the right place or time to reopen closed wounds, but I had to get this off my chest.

Best believe that all we ever shared was real from my side. Here in these words, a piece of my heart is painted. I hope you think about me sometimes.
I often think about you.

Yours nostalgic,

I have never heard from her ever since. What I did wrong is clear, and I take full responsibility. But how I wish we never had to lie about how we felt in the first place. It was never John who made us part ways. No. It was the lies and the half truths. The same lies that started all this.

I Was a Boy Once – III

Too Big a Ripple

It was a Monday when we had the apology conversation. My heart was guilt free and confident that all was well between us. So Tuesday came and went, as did Wednesday. On Thursday though, I realized that I had not seen her in two days. And this was unlike us.

We were inseparable. I was always in her lane and her on my case. I always knew when she went to eat lunch at the Recreation center, and when she didn’t.  I would know it when she was on Wi-Fi and the lesson she was attending was a boring one. She would always text me and we’d do some small talk until when one of us had a concern that required them to leave. I always knew how her days looked like. It’s the key thing we’d talk about every morning. I would ask about hers, and she about mine, and where an opening occurred, we’d sometimes plan to meet. It was often to just sit doing nothing or exchanging movies from my laptop to her’s and vice versa. If one of us bought a soda, it wasn’t theirs to drink alone. We’d always share. I knew the girls she hated, the ones she loved, and the ones she doubted, and she knew my friends. Looking back now, she was the headline of my campus life. Two days without hearing from her was new. But again this culture was before the fateful Saturday, so I let it go.

The day went on well, and evening came. By this time, I thought I would have forgotten about her disturbingly evident absence in my life, but it was the only thing a brother could think about. I was having mixed emotions about whether to text her or not to, but I did it at last.

“Hi” [7:03]

This went unresponded to for an hour or so. I then assumed that perhaps she hadn’t seen it, so I send a second text.

“Hi. You seem kinda scarce. Whats up?” [7:59]

This too she did not reply to. Thoughts started running through my head like maybe she had decided to never talk to me again, or that something bad had happened to her. Fifteen minutes of waiting for her to reply were doing more damage to me than the guilt of hurting her ever did. So I resolved to calling her with the hope that she’d pick up. It was 8:05 when I dialed her number. Lucky for me she did.



“Whats up? It’s been an hour since I texted you. Is everything OK?”



“Yeah. I am fine. What is it that you wanted to say?”

“Well, nothing really. I was just checking on you. It has been a while since we exchanged sentiments.”

“Oh. OK. I am good.”

“Good to know.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m kinda sleepy. Si we talk kesho?”

“No trouble. Good night.”


It all ended so fast, that I felt like she was running away from me. But what could I have done?

The next day was a Friday. And being my initiation week, my friends had decided to booze me up that evening until I couldn’t stand on my two feet. I was a liquor virgin and this they intended to change. I was both afraid and excited. The entire day was spent playing FIFA, watching movies and chatting up girls with the hope of landing an evening date given there were no lessons for us that day. I only took part in the movie watching.

The day was spent fast and the long awaited night had come. We were all dressed up, pocket heavy and optimistic that the night will be yet another among the many good ones we had had. By pocket heavy I mean five hundred Kenyan shillings. We were literally screaming as we neared the campus recreation center where loud riddim music was already playing. The adrenaline had already kicked in and we were all yearning for nothing else but crazy fun. When we got to the entrance, to the left where round tables with at least four chairs each under an inverted cone shaped roof chill spots were erected, I saw her friends. I asked my friends that we go say hi, and no one said no. Her friend’s faces were not lighting up as the distance between them and us was closing. On the contrary, their resentment became clearer and clearer. But we were excited, so we went on anyway. Their reception was so cold all of us regretted making the move. My friends blamed me for taking them to the buzz killers and negative vibration.

“Izeni joh. Hata mimi sielewi mbona leo hawadai story hio design, but lazima leo kashike. Hatuwatambui”

Their unanimous simultaneous nod and cheer confirmed they were agreeing with my sentiment. We moved to the counter, bought some liquor and started the party.

I did not like the taste of Dry Legend. Bluemoon was also not pleasant to my taste buds. So I bought myself a cold Afya mango and poured some liquor into it. It’s not the best chaser I know, but it always worked for me.

Two hours into the party, me and my friends were speaking even louder to hear each other, sweat was dripping all over our faces and our t-shirts were wet with sweat too. We had been lucky to rub against some pretty lasses but dancing in a circle together from one dancing style to another was more fun. It wasn’t every day that a brother desired to feel a girl’s soft skin. Some days all he ever needed was a good time with friends and this was one of those days. It was so lit for us.

The fire died for me when someone touched me on my right shoulder from behind. It was one of her friends. She asked me to accompany her. She said that we needed to talk. I told my friends I’d be back and left with Jane. I followed her a distance away from the loud noise. It was here that she laid it on me.

“Phil, what did you do to Melanie?”

“What did I do?” This was the half-sober me talking.

“You need to talk to her and make things right. She is not fine. Do you know that she has been drinking?”


Melanie was a liquor virgin too.

“Yes. And ever since the liquor got to her she has been calling out your name cursing you for being such a bad boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend? I am not her boyfriend! We are just friends.”

“That’s not what she is saying. I just called you here to tell you that you need to help us help her because she won’t do a thing we say. I wouldn’t be here if we didn’t need you.”

I followed Jane to Melanie’s room and there I found all her friends with long faces bored and hating the fact that they had to miss out on that night’s fun because of a problem they did not create. There was passionate hate on their faces when I walked into the room. Melanie noticed the shift of attention and she too lifted her face from hiding it in her pillow to look towards the door. When she saw me, her face lit up with joy and before her smile could turn into laughter, she was crying again. I did not know what to do but telling from her friend’s eyes, I had to do something to save both their friend and their night. Lucky for them, Melanie asked them to leave us both alone which they happily did, though careful not to show her that they were glad.

“What is wrong with me Phil? Am I not beautiful enough? Or am I too churchy for you?”


“I need to know why you left me unattended!”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I am talking about. Last Saturday!”

“I was doing the right thing. I was respecting your principles.”

“Did I look like I had any lying naked in the same bed with you?”

I became defensive.

“But I thought you were not the type so I decided not to …”

“Not which type? Your type?”

“I did not say that”

“You did not say anything.”

“You are not letting me.”

“OK. Speak. I’m listening.”

Short silence

“Listen, Melanie. Ever since I met you I have taken you for a good friend and a serious Christian and the reasons that ever led me to go that way with you were selfish and I couldn’t have let myself do you wrong. So I stopped before it was too late.”

“Bullshit! It was already too late when we got undressed. And what made you stop is not second thought but the fact that I was not cool enough for you.”

“I never said that.”

“You never needed to”

“OK fine! Maybe I do not find you as striking as I should.”

“What? You don’t think I’m beautiful?”

“I don’t mean it that way …”

“I knew this was the reason why you could not make love to me.”

And before I could talk back, she was crying again. I had just made things worse.

“Come’on. Stop crying. I did not mean it like that. Just tell me what to do to make things right. I don’t like seeing you like this. This is not a good look.”

(short silence)

“Come on Melanie. Tell me what to do and I will do it right away. Just say it. I want to make things right”

“The only way you can make things right is if you finish what you started.”

This she said looking straight into my eyes without flinching. Her seriousness was clear as day. I had just made a promise, and I was not going to fail her for the second time.


In the morning when I woke up, she was still sleeping next to me. I left her sleeping and made us coffee. When I woke her up to eat, she was smiling.

We had a fun breakfast.

I Was a Boy Once – II

Don’t Worry About Me

I couldn’t bear it. And the next night when I dreamt about it, it still hurt. The fact that I had made an innocent heart feel like they were not good enough, the fact that I planted self-doubt inside of them, I couldn’t bear it. In the morning I woke up wishing that I wouldn’t meet her anywhere in campus. I wouldn’t have known what to say. I remember walking face down for the most part of that morning.

After morning classes, I went for lunch with my class mate friends at our usual joint. After each of us had given their orders, we resumed to telling jokes and stories as we had been doing on our way to kwa mathe from class. I could hear every story and every joke that was being told, but the humor just wasn’t getting to me. I tried laughing to avoid my friends noticing that I wasn’t with them, but it was in vain. So they asked me what the matter was, and I had to paint it for them in black and white. They were the only people I could seek council from, apart from them being the only ones that had any reason to like me then. I hoped that they’d reassure me that all would be well, and that this dull cloud was going to pass, but they didn’t.

First they laughed at me, then they told me that I had failed. They made me the topic of that day. They cracked some very funny jokes about me, most that I couldn’t help but laugh at, and somehow for the first time, I weirdly felt that I belonged. Their making me the topic made me feel accepted however wrong it sounded. I think it pleased them that I had tried to be like them. And pleasing them pleased me. One of them did point it out that it was wrong of me to not have finished what I had started, but the headline of their response read that a half a loaf is better than none. In their eyes I was justified. This was the highlight of our friendship for me. We stayed a while after having lunch since the next class was an hour away and told more jokes and stories. This time I too was sharing. It felt good not having to worry about the previous day.

I walked with my face up on our way to our next class, confident that I had done nothing wrong. And although some little doubt lingered inside my head, I ignored it and went on with my day. This went on long until when I saw her a distance away walking towards us. She had already seen me, and I knew for sure that she had seen me see her, so I could not in any way ignore her. When we met, we all exchanged greetings, and as was culture, I was left behind to talk to her some more as my friends went on to class. She still was my friend, or so I thought. I was scared and confused and for a quarter a minute or so, nothing I said made sense. I tried to think of a joke I could tell to her so that she could laugh and then I would know that I was still in her good books, but nothing came. I was blank. There was an awkward silence between us, and this was killing me inside. Inside my head I was trying to think about what was going on in hers and I was getting nowhere with it. But unlike me, she was calm. She was not showing any signs of disappointment or anger. No. She was genuinely smiling, looking very okay. This confused me the more and less than a minute with her was feeling like a millennium.

So I decided to speak my mind. I told her I wasn’t proud of my actions, and that I was sorry that it was her who I put through the discomfort. I told her about my inability to apologize sooner and how much I regretted breaking her heart. I told her everything I felt I needed to tell her. It was when I asked her to allow me to take her out sometime as a way of making up for my mistake that she broke the silence.

“We are young, and this was bound to happen sooner or later. And although it is true that you hurt me, I respect the fact that you did man up and try to make things right like a real man. Thank you for that. We all make mistakes. And you were mine. So don’t worry about me. I will see you around Phil.”

Ever since, we have remained good friends. I was a boy but she was all grown up, already a woman.

I’ve never stopped worrying about her.