My-Once Molly… the girl who broke my heart, the one who got away, the one who promised me the world and left me to survive alone – typical of our Kenyan politicians… I hope you are good. Now, as February – the month of love – lurks about, I find myself thinking of you.
Thing is, my dear Molly, I have new
neighbours. A young couple, very much in love like we once were. The young
lady, her name is Val… maybe Valentine… I don’t know. This Val, a spirited girl
with rich, deep, heaving laughter - almost like yours. Her smile… ah! You
should see it. The shine of the morning sun distilling the dew upon cool
meadows… I am totally in love with her. Alarmingly, she teases me much and I am
getting ideas…
Molly, dear, wherever you are, please pray
for me… the temptation is too much. If you don’t, the frail creature that I am
may fall. This, despite having numerous songs in my playlist to warn me.
Invariably, Majengo – that infamous locale – does a dishonourable appearance in
most of them… ‘Majengo siendi tene…’, Joe Mwenda’s ‘Majengo’ – superb Kikuyu
Blues, Kariuki wa Kiarutara’s ‘Nyumba Utarihaga’…
Apart from song, I am witness to a tale of
stolen love that ended badly. Then, as a young man, I had ‘started life’… a
single ‘mabati’ room with shared facilities that were communal taps, bathrooms
and pit latrines. The bathrooms and latrines were sited at the farthest end of
the compound and the lights there had long gone out of fashion.
Now, womenfolk are naturally curious and
nosey. All along, I had been ignorant of the whispers, the investigations and
the setup. I usually tend to mind my business – looking after elusive money and
riches. Anyway, as the story unfolded… Omosh, Senior Bachelor and mechanic, his
bathing time was 11pm. Omosh’s bathing time coincided with Mama Kui… the
beautiful lady whose husband sometimes worked the nightshift.
Ah, much drama that day… First, a shouting
and a wailing… we all came out armed with crude weapons, possibly to fight off
thieves… Now, Mama Mboya was shouting for whoever had Baba Kui’s phone number
to call him urgently. Why? Omosh, Senior Bachelor and mechanic, was locked up
from the outside in one of the bathrooms. Stuck together, they were – him and
Mama Kui. Anyway, the news people came, Baba Kui too, and a witchdoctor to
solve matters… separation and all. And what a beating Omosh got from Baba Kui
and the scandalised womenfolk…
So, my dear Molly, pray hard for me
whenever you are. On that note, I am still pursuing end February as the
official launch of my collections: ‘A Funeral Dress for Nyasuguta’ and ‘Love
Told, Poetry Souled, Family Bold’… nice stories, snippets, poetry and a play
between them. Out of a total budget of Kshs 100,000 – I have managed to raise a
commendable Kshs 300. I still believe in miracles and call on Kenyans of
goodwill to support this noble cause via:
Buy Goods Till Number: 9080911, Gatere
Mwangi
Send Money: 0708 276 622, Mark Gatere
Plus, my anthology, ‘A Funeral Dress for
Nyasuguta’ is available at the Nuria Bookstore and you can get it via this
link: https://nuriakenya.com/product/a-funeral-dress-for-nyasuguta-by-mark-mwangi/ . That’s all for now my cutie pie. I have to go as I
hear the landlord knocking and I am yet to clear January’s rent.
Your long suffering lover,
Sant Mark
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