In Getting Married and Having Kids

My friends and strangers online around my age are getting married or engaged or having babies and am here wondering if it’s okay that I don’t want those things, not just yet. My newsfeed is full of engagement parties photos, baby showers and wedding gowns photos from different people. People posting photos of their little perfect families or their cute babies or gross family day out because it’s gross to have a family day out with a little baby since the whole time you will be trying to keep them alive instead of having a good time. Some of you are posting pics in the gym working that baby bum off,apparently, it’s a thing. But what do I know?

It’s a good thing, you guys are moving on, making your lives and all. I am honestly happy for you. Growing up, marriage and engagements and babies and the in betweens is something I have always know is a thing for adults and at almost 23 I don’t feel so adultie. I feel like I have a long way to go to be a proper adult. There is a lot of things I need to do and starting a family ain’t on my top 100 list, conventional marriage is not even on the list.

I am trying to successfully run my shoe company(Like our page on facebook VaaKenya) that needs A LOT OF WORK. If you into unique, customized shoes and that kind of thing then VaaKenya is your shoe company of choice. I also have to do some unpaid internship I have been postponing, maybe I should suck it up and go for it, get my license and be done with it.

Then there is the most important thing of staying alive and reminding myself to incorporate vegetables and other proteins in my diet because having bread/chapati and tea for dinner everyday doesn’t count as real food and that throwing in mutura in my meager meal of black tea and bread DOES NOT count as a balanced diet, though it does make me sleep better knowing that yesterday I ate meat (read mutura). I also need a trip across Africa I have been planning to do if and when Evey gets back in the country if she doesn’t I will figure something out.

I mean, there is so much to do. Well, there is much that needs my attention, and all I want to do is sleep. I don’t think I am an adult, adultie enough to start a family. I am barely taking care of myself, I don’t think it’s wise to include some innocent persons in the picture….don’t you think?

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Seduce Me 

Seduce me. 

I don’t mind the cliche romance we see on TV, my god, am a sucker for slow walks under the moon and chasing setting sunsets. The reason they are cliches is coz they work!  

I am sucker when it comes to silly games by the beach and getting high by the beach, scratch that last part, I like getting high anywhere.

I am a sucker for efforts! 

A well planned dinner, breakfast in bed, unexpected kisses….. 

That kind of thing.  
But when I say seduce me this is what I have in mind. I am a hopeless romantic, of course. 
Kiss me like you mean it. 
Hug me like you want to 
Look at me like am the only girl in the world, like I put stars in the sky and the moon is my best friend. 
Darling, I am not a hard girl to please. 
Text me random smart shit to make my day, shit like why you think the sun goes to sleep so that the moon can unleash her brightness or what you think vegan zombies eat or what you think of event horizon and space theory…. I promise I won’t indulge you but that will fucking make my day  
Talk dirty to me, try seducing me with science, use physics, the appalling theories,a seductive language forged from physics will definitely get you into my pants, I know I won’t  understand half the things you be saying but I will be so impressed you wouldn’t have to try. 
Undress me with your beautiful mind and baby, I am sold. 
Seduce me.

Broken Hearted 

It’s been a month now since I last tasted you.  Our unbreakable relationship was breakeable, after all, I didn’t see that coming . I thought you were my forever.  The one that gets to stay till am old and senile and stay some more till my last breath. The one I get to taste every bitter cold morning and sweet sunny morning alike. You were supposed to be the kind of love I get to write cheesy blog post and post pictures on instagram with cheesy captions like “I love you to the moon and back” or “I love you to infinity and beyond , you are mine “. That kind of thing. My person. Well, this is the twenty first century, and we show affection through social media, our version of PDA. That is also how we officiate  relationships,by god, you are all over my timelines. The twenty first century is full of lazy pricks, seriously, we are lazy. Love translates to silly captions on selfies and status. I think I like our version of love, superficial , no depth, zero effort. Look at me writing you off  with a single blog post even though our relationship had depth and seemed solid enough while it lasted. I thought we were inseparable all these years,but then again, shit happens, all the time. 
I will give the internet a little history about us and how we became an item. We met long time ago but in the year  2012 we became an item, official even. If memory serves me right, 2012 was the year I had a crazy transition. I was fresh out of highschool, applying for college and all. Getting into college,  my then boyfriend cheating on me, hormones were all over the place,basically,being me was unbearable .  The world was supposedly coming to an end, we all can agree that  2012 had a few weird shit going on, some call it the year of jubilee, and not in the Kenyan version of poltics but more in the line of spiritual BS.  In all that madness, our long term relationship began. I mean,i knew you were awesome she’s you also, got me through that terrible year and many more that came.  

Since the day we became lovers,  my life has never been the same. You did kickstar my day with a good jolt, when my sleepy lips met yours, I knew in a few minutes I will obviously be ready to face the world. I was strong as long as I had you.  On the nights I needed to stay up and study, you were there,you kept me company.  When my depression kicked in, every taste of you on my lips reminded me to be strong.  You cheered me on.  Held my hand . On the days I was too tired to do shit, I did reach out for you, you always showed up, we would  sleep in and watch bad TV or read a book or basically do nothing. You also kept me well fed, or as fed as your limited capacity could manage. If I needed to deal with humanity, you gave me all the patience I needed. If I wanted to see my friends, you were always ready to give a  helping hand.  Then when our relationship was going strong, I discovered that you did  mix  better with whiskey and friends. 
Basically, you were my lover, my friend, my sponsor, my best friend,  my social adviser, my social manager, my therapist and the reason I had a social life. You made my life awesome.  You made me a people’s person.  You made me feel human, most days. Of all my past lovers, I bet you  be missed the most. 

Our relationship was bitter sweet, then we evolved  to bitter awesome. I never liked you with milk, even when you obviously tasted better, straight up black and strong . Our love was addictive, at least for me,you were fucking addictive. The type of love poets write sonnets about- perfectly imperfect covers it. I did cheat on you you severally with unworthy beings like;milk,  water, chocolate, tea, juice…….. I also did cheat on you with beings, I wouldn’t say they were in your league but on their own level they wereworthy, this included; whiskey(sloppy lover ),wine(such a good lover ), vodka (good for a night ) tequila (good for the nights you don’t want to remember ), and beer( they say that one is an acquired taste, I agree with  them,sadly) . my dear coffee,  you were always there, no matter my other indulgence,you were my person, my one true lover. You were there for me,always. Cleaning up after the likes of alcohol most times.  We weren’t perfect together I know.  Like you ruined my skin, dehydrated my body,  addictive and all.  None of us was perfect for the other, but love, love wins, always.

Then last month something broke.  I had food poisoning and just like that we were over. It must have been the fact that I had you that morning like every other morning and my mind can’t stop associating you with that horrible experience or it could be the fact that you didn’t mix well with my prescription drugs. Either way, I can’t seem to be able to have you.  I now ppget a gag reflex every time I try so I stopped.  I guess this is goodbye. Till we meet again in future, maybe it will be in Paris, and the city of love and lights will get us back together. 

Ghost Story 

It was one fine Sunday, Paul, one fine lady was having a little lazy morning. Yes. Her name was Paul. An unusual name for a female,a usual male given name. Growing up kids made fun of her for having a male name but that was long time ago. Now she is a woman and she made peace with it. She is even proud of her name. She somehow used it in her favor, or so she claims, how?I don’t know. Her best friend Pauline had come over and the girls were catching up on the weeks event. It’s a girl thing 

So how was your week Pauline?”

“Amazing, Charles from the office asked me out.”

Half listening Paul.

“What did you say?”

“I said no.”

“Why?”

“You look distracted Paul. Are you okay?”

“I guess. I just feel weird.”

“Hormonal weird or sick weird?”

Only a girl can understand a girl that much 

“Something in between”

“You either pregnant or on your periods.”

“Hahaha I can’t be pregnant. Am on the pill, duh”

“Pill pregnancy is a thing. When was the last time you had your periods and how exactly do you feel?”

“Tired. Sleepy. Dammit and have been peeing often.”

“Yessss”

“What? You are the nurse here. What do you think is happening to your body?”

“Shit! Points to pregnancy. There’s some kit somewhere in this house. I better find out for sure “




Paul takes the test. It’s positive. She is thirty. Pregnant doesn’t seem like such a bad thing,maybe this is it. I mean she had a good job,a supportive boyfriend and good friends, her best friend Pauline has always been there. She even thinks Pauline will make a great aunt and godmother to her unborn baby. The child she was carrying will have an okay place to grow up in. They(her and Wayne her boyfriend) weren’t trying for a baby but here they were.

Since she confirmed she was pregnant, she started taking extra care of herself. She realized that she wasn’t just living for herself but for two now. 
Wayne was thrilled. Everyone at work was excited for her . It wasn’t such a bad thing, she thought. Her boss was being nice since she realized Paul was carrying a baby.She felt a little guilty for getting pregnant without a ring on her finger. She knew her mother will be a little disappointed but she also knew dearest Mommy will come around, she always does. I mean that’s what mothers do. Even though she is having a child out of wedlock, her first child should count for something. It’s special and she had never disappointed her before. Besides she wasn’t getting any younger after all. she can’t believe she will be a mother soon, motherhood didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

Six months into it and she miscarried. She took her IFAS supplements, she attended pre natal clinic, she reduced her working hours, she was off alcohol… generally she took care of herself but somehow she miscarried. Her baby that defied science and nature the first time also defied the rules of pregnancy and left her wounded. She didn’t get to hold the baby . She went through the motions of recovery; depression, insecurity and finally acceptance. 

One year down the line they decide to try again. Wayne had witnessed what she went through, it somehow changed her, even their relationship felt strange. You can’t go through such a thing and survive without a little change. .
She gets pregnant, she is off the pill, not some miracle baby that defied science or anything. She doesn’t even tell people. They all notice later own. She takes extra care of herself. On her labour, she smiles, even proud of herself, she is looking forward of holding her baby, it’s a surprise, she didn’t want to find out the sex of the baby. 

“It’s a girl”, the doctor announces. She smiles. 

“Can I hold her?”

“Still birth . Sorry. You don’t have to do this “.

Madness takes over. She screams. She shouts. She wants to hold her baby. Labor is madness and still birth is worse. The doctor surrenders and gives it to her. She sobs for her baby. She mourns for her baby. A baby she didn’t get to hold…….
She broke it off with Wayne.

She stopped talking to her best friend 

She isolated herself.

She quit her job.

She went to India, there is magic in India, she was told. To find her chi. 


Now she is a yoga instructor.

Childless.

Alone.

After what she had been through….