Dear Maureen,

 

Should I start with salutations because I vividly know you won’t really care to tell me if you are fine or not. This is probably the last time I’m speaking to you. You know what you took away from me three years ago. The fact that I was in love and you were the bearer of my heart was ossified in my thoughts.

How many times have I told you in my dreams that I love you only to be answered by a cold shoulder? How many glances have I stolen of you, trying to wink but suddenly you would only give me a firm wide look? I just want to let it all out now so that whatever happens next won’t leave you in regret.

I clearly remember and this fact is ostensible, when you made a fool of me out of all those friends of yours. I think they were Lily, Nicole and that brown ‘chick’ who constantly called herself Champagne. It was at the University lecture room during the psychology classes. I was deeply engrossed in Dr. Kizito’s teaching when all of a sudden you caught my eyes. Such beauty; needs admiral praise and adoration. You walked briskly to where your friends sat just two benches descending me. I remember when our eyes met and that smile that wasn’t really meant for me. I smiled back and your expression changed. I remember you whispering to your friends about me and how goofy I was.

How my heart sank out because of that ordeal. It’s indescribable. But that is not the only memory I have. That day during the group work. I understand you are a fashionist but you don’t have to show it off outwardly using me as bait. You criticized me openly mostly in an offensive way though I took it lightly. “Nice suit, are those designer labels” that was roughly what you said to me though imagine it in a more feminine way. I became the laughing stock of the group and you smiled. One, I like your smile though mysterious. Two, you did not smile at me at that time though. I tend to think you did all that time until I realized that it was him.

Can you remember that day when you were left stranded in the campus unable to call your private chauffer to take you home? I took it out of my will to help you with my phone. You laughed at it just because it was no lesser of a Stone Age invention- Kabambe. Well, it did its work and you went home leaving me in the cold blistering shower still wondering how to win your heart. I got a cold that day just so you know.

Well, it is true that most boys like to roll with you in our class but you have the selective hand. You pick the green grams and blow away the chaff. To you, am among the chaff. You take me much of a low life- a person who shouldn’t have even been born at all. For your info, I’ve wished for the world to eat me up for a couple of times. You don’t really know what I’ve been through. Living up to this very moment, I thank God.

Ah! Finally I remember. The first time I saw you. I’ve never seen such a creature. So beautiful, flawless and eloquent in speech. I almost thought you were not even Kenyan until I heard of your name; Maureen Mwangi. Forgive me for having mispronounced your first name a couple of times. You see where I come from, it’s natural. Though still I cherish those moments. I made you laugh so much. But now am broken.

I am not sure really if you would even be reading this. I might decide to hide it under my suitcase in the hostel just like I’ve done to the other letters and let it all go but a force pushes me so hard and I cannot relent. Better to die a free man than to die worse than a caged animal. I will say this once more. I love you and that fact can barely change. I would take a bullet for you. Actually I did take a bullet for you. Do you remember that incident?

It was during that student’s strike when the riot got so heated. Stones were flying everywhere. Students were turning into apes and social misfits. Suddenly the GSU came but this time they came with special forces- the armed A.Ps. You were there tangled in the thought of running when teargas cannons started flying. With my sharp eyes I saw what seemed like a contemplated open fire. I came and pushed you just so that you could run. You sneered at me claiming that I had made you all dirty. I remember feeling pain on my abdomen. That sensation that brought me down. Tow bullets were screwed on me that day. Not one but two! Right now as I look at my waist, I see the already healed wound and I remember your sneer.

And it is so hard to understand what I need to do for you to love me. I tried to do impressive stuff at least to drive something important in your head; that I love you but you didn’t really care. Do you remember the last time I spoke to you face to face? I had not intended into being there. My friends knew how much I was dying for you and told me they had a remedy for my ‘disease.’

Sheepishly, I followed them only to realise that they were taking me to the university’s rave. I tried to turn back knowing how much I was a man of dignity but my friends forcefully shoved me in and the doors were locked. (I didn’t expect that to happen, they say it was curfew-though it was a way to keep the lecturers living nearby from disturbing the peace.) I was helpless there. The beats were so intense almost bursting my eardrums off. Students were all in a groovy mode dancing to their level bets and how they knew to do it. Then I saw you.

My heart froze for a while. Was it because of the fact that I heard you were much of a devoted Christian than me or because you were alone in a crowd of pairs? Oh well, I enjoyed eyeing you trying to drift your attention to me. You wore a sad face that day. I could clearly see that you were about to break down in tears and I was ready to fly there as your Prince Charming for you to cry on my shoulders literally. But I kept on watching you.

Suddenly my friend, Tom I think you know him (he was obviously your boyfriend sometime before- you can’t miss to know him) he made me get up and approach you. Actually he said, “It’s rude staring. Why don’t you make yourself comfy?” I did as asked and psyched up. I walked towards you. For the first time on that last time I set a word out of my mouth to you, you almost gave in and you badly seemed to want to dance with me. I even heard you whisper yes. But unexpectedly you saw someone else and that made me shrink tinier than a cockroach. The background music had already gone smooth and romantic. I was left on my own to dance.

Since then I have never dared to speak to you. I have learnt my lesson. You can never force a cow to drink water by the river. I kept all my feelings about you in a box and locked the key and hid it in an unreachable place. But somehow I retrieved the key and this is how I release my feelings to you.

Just a by the way, I am half sober and standing by the hostel balcony. Notice how delirious it is. If I am supposes to throw myself, how would you really find this letter? That is one question I am thinking so hard as I write. Why should I even throw myself in the first place? I’ve had a loadful of bad omen for the past fifteen years. I’m twenty and still healthy. My mother got implanted on a wheelchair for life when I was only eight. My father got killed by cattle rustlers. My sister got pregnant at the age of thirteen and my brother ran away from home. We got chased out of our own land because some tycoon claimed our title deed was counterfeit. All this and still am alive in a reputable university, wonderful friends and you still think that you can make me kill myself?

I feel to end here. But I hear you are pregnant now. How I wish that could have been my baby (but am lucky it’s not). I hope the father will take care of it well. Oh I almost forgot. You come from a rich family. That’s not really a big deal. Quick delivery so that you can come back to the university and finish your studies and obviously break another person’s heart like you did to mine.

I have just finished my third year and sooner rather than later, I will be finally working. I promise to pay you quite some visits in whichever university you will go to (obviously the probability of you coming back here is zero). Oh! Let me get back to the hostel and throw this bottle of Novida (quite strong actually) and do my assignments. The teacher says I have a higher chance of being a psychiatrist. What do you think? I just can’t wait to get into business.

I end here please, my dear. I still think that I love you and maybe in memory of my unseen love to you, please name that baby my name if he is a boy. May God bless you.

Yours truly,

S.J

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s