Adelaide, I whisper.

Day 24, I have not seen that smile for a while. Adelaide, her smile, the warmth and fuzzy feeling that came with it. She was the embodiment of genuine care and hospitality. Damn I miss that smile. I miss our brief conversations, her interjections that made me laugh nervously. I can already picture her confidently touching my hands, looking straight into my eyes saying “you are mine

Adelaide, sweet sweet Adelaide I am drifting away you know. I’m slowly drowning in this ocean, and the last face I am to see is yours.

I hear the door open, and two men overly dressed in white (apron and face mask) approach my bed. They are carrying a metal plate, with a syringe. I feel tense. My skin becomes stiff. I am not used to needles.

“It’s injection time Brody,” one of the men says with enthusiasm. I should point out that my name is not Brody.

“Now hold still,” the other bloke says fastening my right hand on a belt by the bed side. I am fidgeting and sweating a lot. The needle pricks my skin first time, I almost jump. “We’ll have to do it again, the other bloke says.

It’s finally over. I am rubbing the injected part of my skin. The pain is slowly fading away and so is the face of Adelaide. Sweet Adelaide don’t go. It’s been far too long without you. Please.

Wait there she is in my room. I am in my room. This feels like a memory. She is lying on my bed, pestering me to get out of my computer desk.

“You work too hard muff,” she says. “Yes I do, ” my clueless voice. I was always slow to her advances. She gets out of bed a little broody and comes to lean her head towards my chair. I know she is pretending to take interest in my work.

“You are writing another alien abduction story, are you?” She asks with a sarcastic tone. “Yes Sherlock, I am, ” I reply and for a moment we look into each other and I get lost in the gaze.

Day 48. There is something I need to remember. A truth I once held dear, but my head can’t wrap around it. I know it is something important. Hopefully it will come back to me.

At this moment though, I can hear footsteps across the hallway. Ah yes, it is time again for the daily injection. Yesterday I was able to hold it together. Today I think I will do so too.

Wait my wall has a picture of a woman scraped onto it. I think I know that woman. I touch it. I believe I was the one who drew it. Perhaps this is truth I was supposed to remember.

The door is opened, and once more like clockwork, the two blokes are here to give me my injection. I do not tense. I barely fidget. I stretch my right arm, ready for the needle to prick my skin. Suddenly a name hits my mind. Adelaide, I whisper as my tongue goes numb and my head becomes drowsy.

There she is from a distance. We are in a place of nothingness. Dark and desolate is how I would describe it.

“Adelaide! It’s me! Can you hear me?” I shout. She turns and smiles. Yes, that smile. I remember now. I remember the warmth it came with.

She keeps fading away, and I keep trying to reach out. Adelaide! Adelaide, please. Please don’t go!”

Day 72. I don’t know why I feel miserable today. They’ve been painting over the wall in my room for a while now because they don’t like me scraping on it. They want me to forget something and honestly I think I have.

I don’t know what my name is. Don’t remember if I ever had a family. I always had this feeling that there was someone special in my life, but I can’t remember. It is the drugs. They make me forget. That’s the only explanation.

The door opens, and the It’s the injection routine once more. At this moment I am immune to the needle. I barely feel it in and out my vein. I am staring at the blank white wall all along, waiting for the effects to kick in.

Darkness. I am finding myself in a familiar place. Is this a memory that has held on for this long? I hear sounds of children laughing. Two of them run past my legs and I almost trip.

Im faster than you Ade, ” a young boy says after beating this young girl in a race. This is a happy memory, but I barely seem to recognise it.

The boy trips after another round of racing. He starts crying. The girl stretches her hand out and says, “Hold on to me as tight as you can. I’m here and I won’t let go”

Day 96. Something is different. It is past the daily routine for my injection. It is awfully still and quiet.

Wait, I hear footsteps but for single person. The door opens and for the first time I get to see a face.

“Brody, the procedure is near completion. The injection and re-orientation procedures were just part of phase one of leaving the past behind. You still want to join the organization yes?” It’s a lady. She is fairly plump and is wearing spectacles. She has a doctor kind of vibe.

“Yes I guess. But I am not Brody, that’s not my name,” I answer. She takes a moment before replying, But you barely remember who you are. You don’t even remember how you got here. Everyone who comes here seeking for our help will always be a Brody. You did something bad Brody. You wanted a fresh start. And now that you are getting it, you have to pay us. A favour for a favour.

“What do you mean? What did I do? What favour?” I ask. “Now, Brody we talked about this. Fresh start means no back pages. On the side of your bed is a file and a watch. It is time you shaped this world into what it is meant to be

As she spoke, the two blokes who used to administer medicine to me walked in wheeling in a sort of device on a trolley.

“One more thing, we did slight adjustments to your face she says. I reach out for a mirror that was above the file and the watch. I do not recognise this face. But again I don’t remember how I looked.

Here I am slowly internalising this moment when the device starts growling. There’s a blue light. I feel this moment of isolation as I slowly fade. The room starts to disintegrate. There is excessive white light. I briefly see this beautiful face, she smiles at me. Adelaide, I whisper.

Honey Cravings.

My hands were full, dripping of honey,

Sweet, taste; rooted deep in this moment of luxury,

I licked even further to the jar, and felt my eyes open to this ecstasy ;

A moment of sheer pleasure

My tongue washed with all this sugary feeling,

Oh how the real time had walked into fantasy,

Because I started to yearn more for the honey comb,

And no bee sting would stop my endeavour.



22nd July ; Wait, what is happening?

I woke up, my head was hazy. I felt a brief skip off my heart. I was sweating profusely. Fear is what I felt. Just realising that I couldn’t hold on to my body; that someone could take me off the driving seat and make me fade in the background, I felt dread.

My eyes were barely opened when I noticed that I was cuffed to a bed and topless woman wearing a leather mask was on top of me. Like a split second, she swung a knife and plunged it into my chest. I felt the sudden pain and the existential shock woke me up into another world with my face full of sweat.

I touched my chest to confirm that it was only a dream. Oh thank God. Sigh of relief. It was then that I noticed how immaculate the sheets I was sleeping in were. They had this freshly scent of exquisite liquid soap. Silky hair suddenly grazed my hand as a head moved to face me.

“Aaaah!” I screamed. “What, you’ve never had sex before?” She asked. At that moment it felt like I had a convulsion.

Did I just…with her?…wait can’t be.

“He is coming to, ” I heard a distant voice. The background started fading, and the immaculate sheets turned into uncomfortable hospital labelled bedding. The lady wasn’t in bed, rather beside my bed.

“I get it, you are young and you love to party. But punguza kidogo. You almost got alcohol poisoning. ”

Hold up. What does that even mean?

“I always tell him to take it slow doctor, but he doesn’t listen, ” Ms Anne said.

“You should listen to your mother ” the doctor said.

Wait, my mother?

I was still in the grey trying to understand weather this was another layered dream or if it was actually happening. My head was knocking harder than a mullet. When the doctor drew the window curtains, my eyes flinched.

Suddenly there was this background music swallowing the hopelessness that sometimes comes with hospitals. I watched as the doctor and Ms Anne spoke, but all I could hear was the background music.

I felt someone pat my back, “naona uko enjoyment, ” he laughed as I tried to decipher who he was and what had suddenly happened to the coldness of the hospital. I started noticing people; dancing . The music grew louder. I focused to this man as he ordered another round of drinks.

“You are sure you can handle this?”

Wait, what is happening?

He pushes the glass to my hand and I stare into it for a moment. The curiosity of how it tastes takes over me, but my hand doesn’t really move. I just stare at the stillness in my glass.

“Do you need help with that?” he asks. “What?” I am still in confusion when I notice the doctor looking at me holding a glass of water and a pair of tablets.

“What happened last night?” I asked Ms Anne while we were in a car after being discharged.

“I didn’t think you were a lightweight, for real I was going to let you sleep it out on the couch, alafu ukaamua kuchizi!” She said.

What does she mean, like what does she really mean?

She noticed my confusion and said, ” it was like you were an entire different person, we ended up going clubbing and you weren’t stopping with the liquor. Especially when people placed a bet on you.”

Bits and pieces started coming back to me. But you know they are bits and pieces, not the full picture. My chest was somewhat itchy.

“We might have made a couple of pit stops, because it’s like you wanted to go on all night long ”

“Did we…?” “Did we what?” she was definitely smirking. Her whole face read cheeky and sinister. “What do you think?” She asked. And that’s when I went cold, below Fahrenheit.

You are not supposed to sleep with your teacher. That’s like morally wrong.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it. Dream come true right?” “You are sick,” I fumbled my words. “Sorry about the cuffs and the knife thing, that was extreme. I didn’t stab you if that’s what you think I did.”

“I’d rather walk home please,” I opened the door and walked out. She peered through and held my arm. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. It’s not every time that coincidence happens.”

Yeah, not every time coincidence leads me to such.

As I walked away, I realised I couldn’t feel my phone in my pocket, neither could I find my wallet.

I had to suck it up for a moment and get that lift from Ms Anne. Felt like I really had no choice there.

Once I was able to get everything in order, I tried calling my parents as I was sure they were worried sick.

As it turns out though Ms Anne posed as me and texted them reassuring my safety.

Red flag. I was definitely never ever going to contact that woman. Never. Until I realised a circle curved out on my chest with an X inside it.

21st of July; Paul is that you?

It’s no secret that I cringe in social situations, because for some reason God made me that way. Is it a gift, or a curse? (Well I miss out on a lot though..). Anyway that said, the purpose of this confession is just to bring your mind into my world and it’s limited adventures.

And what better place to start than the 21st of July (I’ll purposely leave the year unnamed). A friend of mine had hit me up some time back and wanted to catch up and also introduce me to a group of creatives , and I said I think I’ll meet up with him.

I had set my mind on that task of meeting up (since everything involving socializing is a task to me), meaning no matter what happened I would have played my part. And so here I am, with the German time syndrome lurking on my back, I arrive at our meeting point 5 minutes prior to the agreed time.

(I hate it when that happens, nowadays I no longer try hard though)

So I wait at a cyber cafe, because I’m familiar with it from my high school years. 20 minutes later, the guy sends me a text saying he won’t be able to make it because he had some engagement.

(My mind is fuming at that moment, but I being not really that naive, I decide to go “site seeing “)

Well I do a little bit net surfing to confirm that electronics place I had always planned to visit for the longest, and then head out of the cyber cafe.

Here’s how my mind works when I’m set on to something. I’m walking on this street and for the entire period, it feels like a white background of barely visible shadows. The noise has been dampened by my ear plugs and it’s a brief moment of piece. My destination is the only thing clear and everything else feels like it’s behind the background.

And in that moment of peace, I barely noticed on coming traffic while crossing the road. How surprised I was when the lady driving VW Golf was Ms. Anne, my primary school teacher.

(Accounts of how I met my primary school teacher was kind of boring, so I had to exaggerate a bit, apologies. She has VW Golf though)

Anyway, she was about to yell when she noticed my face. “Paul is that you?” She was adjusting her spectacles , while slowly rubbing her thick eyebrows. She pulled the car off the road and told me to get in.

Chills is what I felt. One I haven’t seen her since forever, two she had one of those I don’t age type of faces, what’s the secret of staying forever twenty sis?

“Last time I saw you, you were shorter.”( yeah there was a time guys). “Yes, it’s been long, ” I said and went silent. She then asked me where I was actually heading and I told her I didn’t really know where, but I was waiting for a friend who didn’t show up.

“So you are going back home then?” She asked. I nodded. All along my eyes were transfixed to the road ahead. I was barely turning to face her. Let her concentrate on driving I said to myself.

Guess I’ll go to the electronics store next time.

She then stopped the car near a choma joint and said, “I was actually going to meet a friend of mine here, are you okay if let you pick a bus home across the street?”

I was going to say yes, guys I really was.

“I don’t think they reach my home, I’ll wait you finish with your friend and then you take me home.”

Bruh, sometimes I don’t actually think.

She gave me a perplexing look and then a weird smile. For the first time I noticed that her face was fairly chubby. (And the Lord gave her dimples, wow.)

“What are you trying, you cheeky boy. Kaa ulitaka nikubuyie lunch si ungesema tu,” she said and asked me to come along to the joint.

Her friend was a lady, thank God ( it would have been more uncomfortable for me if it were a dude). She looked fairly younger, probably four or five years older than me. You could see the resemblance in the two of them, I deduced they were either sisters or mother and daughter.

The lady was called Gladys and they were definitely sisters. Ms Anne and the siz kept talking for a while before they shifted their focus on me, and then Gladys asked, “do you drink?”

Isn’t it too early for that though? Are you seriously asking me, a “saint” such a question? Do I look like I need a drink?

I started sweating, looking nervously as her lips moved. “Hello, ulikuwa umeenda wapi?” Gladys snapped her fingers and that was when I noticed the waiter. “No, I don’t drink, ” I said.

“So Anne is right about you being a “good boy ” throughout. She did her work well right?” I nodded to Gladys question and Ms Anne for some reason just had to add that bit of sending me to buy her lunch returning to her balance when she thought she didn’t have.

Unaniabisha mbele ya siz!

The feasting began and in all honesty, that’s the tenderest meat that has ever graced my mouth. As the two ladies sipped on some cold tusker laughing and chatting, I was there with my kafanta looking extremely out of place. What had I gotten myself into?

I had to look at Ms Anne a couple of times trying to send signals that she was the driver and not me. She needed to take it easy with the boos.

A couple of bottles later, I was the one who ended up on the driver’s seat. Anxiety reached peak levels. I hadn’t driven for a while now, and I didn’t own a licence. By the look of things, I was going to arrive home late.

The sun was shining on my side because I was able to reach the destination without obstacles (that was what I would call a little win).

We pulled to this posh estate. The watch man at the gate opened for us and stopped us briefly when he noticed me driving. Ms Anne mumbled with the watchman and we were eventually let in.

Yes, she definitely has one of those posh houses. An entire bungalow mostly to herself, because she wasn’t married.

“Stay a bit before you head home, ” she said. Gladys had already passed out on the couch. “You wouldn’t mind a glass of water,” for a drunk person she seemed to have gathered sobriety quickly. I agreed to the request.

I wish I hadn’t. As I gulped the whole thing I felt like I was drifting off. I was losing grip of my essence. My eyes went dark.

Wishful bliss.

This is pain I’m feeling,

A string of emotions surging through my body,

Tears dry,

And the soul still cries,

Bits of it patched, in need of healing,

Will I look, for one last time at that face ,

And remember the innocence of my childhood

Or will she, like a vampire bite my lips,

Suck my blood of pure , and show me grief painted in the devil’s grey and red ;

Screaming at me, on how I am the eternal fool

Will I recover?

Will I learn to speak once more?

Will I be able to use that confidence I once possessed as a child,

Or is it just all wishful bliss?


Loving thy neighbour.

Hello brothers and sisters. Today I felt like expressing myself more than just poetry. It will be a while before I sit down and write a poem, but oh well, who said I couldn’t open my mind using prose? Today I just want to preach to you all. More like just spread the word. We’ve been living in a world of so much hate and contempt, that we forget to breathe; we easily forget we are human, and every human deserve compassion right? (apart from those one’s who intentionally harm their neighbours)

Drawing from the new testament of the good book, I’d probably quote Matthew 19:19, honour thy father and thy mother: and, thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. This verse as self-explanatory as it is, we still find it hard in loving our neighbours. Look around you, we live in a diverse world and not everyone is going to subscribe to Christianity just because you think it’s good. Different people have different beliefs. Does that mean we should despise them?
Should we look down upon our neighbours because they aren’t Christian enough? Should we judge them for the way they live? I mean isn’t it up to God to do the judging? What does a good Christian do really?
We are supposed to live according to the way of the cross. We are supposed to uphold faith and revere God. We are supposed to live a righteous life in the eyes of God. All that doesn’t give us the right of superiority to others. In God’s eyes we are all sinners. 1 Samuel 13: 14. So if you read about the book of Samuel, it’s the period when Saul was the king, moments leading to this verse, he had gone against the will of God and burned and offering. (anyway this is deviating from my ‘sermon’. So read your bible please), so the Lord had already discovered this shepherd David, son of Jesse. On that verse, the prophet Samuel says that this shepherd is a man after God’s own heart. This is the very same David who took Uriah’s wife. His life was full of sin, and one thing to note he admitted to it. He knew he wasn’t perfect and even to his last dying breath he sought for God.

We are not perfect; we are with defects. That is what that makes us humans. A good Christian will always seek God no matter what. He or she we always acknowledge themselves a sinner and will be willing to be washed by the blood of Christ. That said, brothers and sisters; is it not in the Christian nature to despise our neighbours. Matthew 7:3 And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye? (king james version with that hard English, replace mote with speck and beam with log)

….. love thy neighbour as thyself. Matthew 19:19

We should not be quick to judge on other people. We shouldn’t be quick to dismiss their beliefs and faiths. If our agenda is to spread the word, then let’s spread it with open hearts but not force it unto anyone. Some will accept the word and others will not. Those who don’t accept the word shouldn’t be victimized at all. The concept of Faith and Christianity is something new and intense, to them. Maybe they want to hold onto what they know, and that doesn’t make them wrong at all. They are not in the dark as we are made to believe most of the time. They are just different, and as Christians we need to respect that, not despise.

Remember the verse I started with Matthew 19:19. Have a blessed weekend everyone.

Broke her pen.

She closed that chapter she was dreaming to write for the longest,
I stole her pen and broke it,
She had written so much words,
She believed that she had to confess
But oh did she rip apart the innocence
That was once feeling my face

Destiny gave me this book, she would say
You are my protagonist, she would say

Ah naive little me,
The breath under her lips
She was my first kiss
And with that pen of hers; she wrote
“That is how the story begins ”

“We shall hold hands under the sun,
We shall dance, like mad men till our feet hurt,
We shall travel the world, and feel the heart of mother earth ”

Fantasy she wrote,

But damn, had she gotten my hopes high
She had opened that jar of emotions that every single girl who came my way couldn’t
I was smitten,
My soul had started to smile
It was no longer a thought of her being mine,
Rather it was factual, my hand could feel her skin; so fine

But did I say I broke her pen!

Yes, it was a short lived dream
A stroll towards the lover’s stream,
Bu the water didn’t seem lively, her eyes didn’t feel color
Her fantasy was dying, so was I with it

It was time to wake up,
I was able to,
But she has been stuck in that single dream unable to write her perfect fantasy
Because I broke her pen.


P.c : pinterest.

I loved a girl once, her name was Sha.

“Sir, you’ve been staring in the mirror for a while now, are you sure you are okay, ” the tailor man was nagging me. I mean it is in the rarest of occasions when I get a chance to wear a suit, what’s even better; it wasn’t some cheap knock off that matched some table cloth or something. It was a 3 piece my friend. “Sir, if I could ask, is it really going to happen this time?” But there I was lost in a chain of thoughts. Oh I saw her face alright. Bloody and messy. She smelt like overdose and death, yet the beauty could be seen past her pale eyes. The beauty in her wedding dress. Damn

“Are you still with us, Paul,” my chain of thoughts are cut and I realise I’m no longer in the tailor shop. Sitting across me are the parents of my supposed bride. I say supposed because our marriage was always due but she always found a way to ditch the whole thing last minute. By this very moment, it was after our third attempt to a wedding and gosh, had I put my hopes high for her. My sweet precious Sha.

“We haven’t seen her since Friday. It’s been three days, do you understand? Three days!” The mother’s words were shaky. She was trying hard enough not to cry. The father on the other hand seemed to have come to a realisation that her daughter was actually fighting demons for the longest. These, plus the tension between the two made me feel uncomfortable sitting across them.

Frankly, I didn’t want to hear any more Sha talk. That girl broke me more than once like some balancing vase , and I still kept loving her. But a heart can only take too much, right?
“I don’t know how to help you. You should check at Ted’s house. God knows she’s been hiding there. ” I know what you must be thinking. How bad did this woman really hurt you that you end up being this cold to her parents. Well, it all starts from the age of five.

Sweet innocent child lying on the ground, his nose was bleeding. He was all dusty and his left elbow was bruised. He was crying. But this little girl comes from above. She blocks the scorching sun and stretches her hand to help the boy. “Don’t cry,” she says, “those boys are mean.” The little boy gets up, and for the very first time he sees this light in her eyes. “Can I be your friend,” he asks?
As you might have guessed it, yes I am the boy. Years passed and we grew, went through adolescence, shared our first kiss; had our first fight as a couple (I almost lost an eye). Drifted completely from each other but as fate would have it, we were able to find each other.

You see, along the way when we completely lost touch, I got mixed up with a group of people who introduced me to the world of crazy. I got involved with the hardest of drugs. I ran away from home for a long time. I got involved in a couple of fights and ended being stabbed multiple times but my turning point was my sweet precious Sha.

It was a chilly night, I was draining what was left in that bottle of whisky that was lying close to the garbage box, outside the bar. This woman who looked familiar comes out of the bar. She is wearing uniform, definitely a bartender or something. Her shaking hands are holding a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. She’s about to light her first smoke when I suddenly feel a thrust through my chest. It felt like my heart was failing. I welped and lay there my eyes all blurry seeing this angel rush towards me. “You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, ” I said. I started feeling numb on my tongue and lips. My eyes sunk into darkness. The next moment I woke up, I was on a hospital bed. Who would have believed my sweet precious Sha would be looking over me like a guardian angel. That was the moment I swore to get clean, for Sha.