THINGS I DO AT ONE IN THE MORNING

 

open_book_macro-wallpaper-1600x900It is 1.25a.m in the morning when I start writing this. I am reading my Bible, something I do not do as regularly as a regular Christian should. The pages of the Book of Job and a devotional commonly known as lesson in my church lie in front of me open with words eager to be read. “Fight Night” by Migos is playing on a low from the speakers that lie so close to where I place my head, a constant reminder that I reside in a public university hostel. This particular song has been on repeat the past two hours.It is as though it moved in discreetly, started by “accidentally” leaving a toothbrush in the bathroom(let’s make that my heart) and now it has settled on my couch(left ventricle?) eating my popcorn and watching those hideous relationship shows that have over-enthusiastic too-readily impressed audiences full of women searching for “true” love. I have no idea why I just quoted the “true”(oops,done it again!) but there should be a point there somewhere.

I am supposed to be asleep, dreaming Martin-Luther dreams or at worst having that reggae club-banger whose best line is “Martin Luther BLACK!” being performed to me by say, Busy Signal himself. An early morning class awaits but honestly I surprise myself seeing as I do not care at all. My ability to be this unapologetic scares me but not enough to make me do anything about it. Is this how kawaida girls start going rogue?

Silent hours like this are the best for candour. Pastors will tell you this is the best time to pray and have that *tete-a-tete with your God,deep in there away from the hustle and bustle of the day.I agree.

Well,my point of candid takes another angle and instead I think about the phone calls I received earlier during the day(yesterday per se).The first was from my editor-in-chief who called  to tell me I needed to report to my school’s board-room ASAP where I was supposed to rehearse for a presentation.Then there was this guy who was asking for his flash-disc that I took from him the day before.Green flash-disc,like it knew about environmental awareness.After that the next caller was a bundles mwitu guy who came into my room a stranger yet before we could even get the ice,let alone break it we had bantered enough to last us two August houses,without the calls of order.Needless to say neither the small talk nor my shockingly charming manners earned me any discount.Not even a cent.I paid the guy the whole amount plus my phone password-and subsequently my age,because I am one of those cliché people who use their birthyears as passwords…how kawaida

By now you should have known that this post does not have any moral theme but you’ll be lazy enough to continue reading anyway.Your gain!

I will indifferently skip the few calls in between then and 11pm when a very dear friend of mine called at almost the same time I was thinking of calling him.These coincidences usually rock!Especially when the other person gets to call first and so caters for both your expectations and your airtime.Back to the (nonexistent) script.This is the type of person with whom I never have to flinch whether to pick the call or not.It comes like reflex.I need not worry about breaking ice,breaking bread,breaking glasses or whatever there is to be broken.That plane takes off before the runway.We talk for minutes on end,and for that little time I am okay with the world.Everything is in it’s right place.Hell,if global warming were to pass by during those minutes I’d hi-five her and tease her to stop being so hot.For those few minutes corruption does not rear his ugly head but instead nods it to Nyashinski’s new jam “Mungu Pekee”.Bliss.What more?The phone call ends with that seamless “I love you”.He says it effortlessly,like it’s breathing in and out and quickly follows it up with”This is actually the first time I’ve said it out loud”.I laugh.I laugh at almost everything.Then I reply with “love you too” intentionally leaving out the “I” because I’m an incoherent person who’s afraid of showing too much emotion.He chuckles and wishes me a goodnight.I say screw it(in my head).I give him a well-articulated”I love you too”.This time we laugh together.

(This piece is unedited.Surely you can live with that.Guess who’ll be dozing off during the 8 a.m lecture?)

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