I met you at Solfest. This was the day I learnt you loved Sol generation. Of course that was the reason you were here. But you liked Nvirii the most. You sang your heart out and screamed his name, I think he might have noticed you. We bumped into each other at the liquor spot and I offered to buy you one. You were shy at first but after three shots, you were all over me, telling me about your crazy life and how much you hated your shitty routines. Then you introduced yourself, “My name is Samara”. We exchanged pleasantries and I told you that I am Natay. You exclaimed saying “Wow that is a unique name!”. I smiled back at you and said that there was more of uniqueness about me for you to find out. I took out a blunt and asked if you had a lighter. You smiled and said in a boujee accent, “Leta kinare nikusetie kifwaka”. You lit it up for me and I was amazed that you were a Lilmaina fan, as you ranted politely that you were a Kilimani baddie. I chuckled softly but remained amazed. You then let me hold your hand as we walked back to the crowd. You told me about your concepts about love and art. That love for you is something you crave but at the same time you fear loving someone too much and then losing them. Because as for you, you love hard, and you really insisted that, you sang to me how you were one heck of an affectionate soul. You want your love and energy to be reciprocated. And so, you fear being broken and going back to being lonely but this time with a heart full of pain, a crashed soul and a mindset that will find it hard to perceive and tolerate love once more. That was one of your fears about love. The other was thinking that maybe you were too much or never enough for someone. I understood what you meant, and I comprehended that you had been through the darkest at some point in life. And as for me, I found you to be brave and mature. Because you said you were still willing to give love another chance.
Back at the grounds, we met your friends. Lily and Tyla. They came out to you smiling and shouting. They were totally out with the alcohol, but they saw me, though they found it had to keep an upward posture. Staggering all over the place. Zilikuwa zimeshika! Then they asked you who is that? I smiled and introduced myself. Sadly, I never got your contacts, and it is not that I had any mutual friends among yours or any acquaintances. At the time I was also drunk to remember that. I had to rely on fate to bump into you once again. At least I got your name and I had this thing of visualizing people. I could tell from a glance that you were a 5’3, and your shoe size, a 36 or a 37. Funny or creepy, right? I guess the instincts from my younger days when I sold shoes stuck with me. You had little feet. Cute I would say!
You told me how that night your friends told you how they had never seen you so free with a guy. That you were in love, but you were in denial.
Well, it takes 21 days to learn a habit quite effectively, but it takes years to master a skill. It took me exactly 344 hours and five minutes to get into the depths of you. One would say you were desperate. I knew how you rolled, with who, when and where across different days of the week. I knew that every Monday morning you walked into Java Coffee House to get a double espresso. You said it helps to jumpstart your productivity through the day. And also, it keeps you in line after a long tedious weekend of partying. Then every one O’ clock noon, you went for lunch down the street, to this popular local food joint, Kwa Mathe. You loved her chapatis and you would carry with you a takeaway escorted with a banana smoothie. To anyone, you seemed to like eating healthy. But I later learnt that you and junk food were inseperable. Then you would walk back to work after lunch with Brian. Who from a far, I learnt you tolerated him. You never liked him because he talked so much about himself. He always timed to walk back with you.
But you loved being around Robyn. He kinda liked you and you always gave him hints. But at the end of the day, y’all kept it professional. Oh! How you loved Nvirii The Storyteller. Whenever Kiss FM played his songs, your department looked at you and they would say, “Babes wa Samara”. Then on Fridays, you loved the vibe around the office. By 3pm, the atmosphere around the place was weekend and party vibes. You loved the Alchemist and Nairobi Street Kitchen, because you felt they were your area of belonging. Saying the places had sophisticated people with modern culture who served great service from music, to food, to the entertainment.
One would call me a psycho or a really obsessed stalker. But we both know that I was good with words. You said it yourself. You told me how nobody got you to say things you never said to people. You cried to me how you were always vulnerable with me and how you never understood how you quickly let me in. At times you were like, “I am sure you get all the girls with this poetic mind of yours”. I laughed and kissed you. I wish you knew that you were the first girl I loved genuinely. And maybe too much. You gave me a certain sense of belonging. And unlike most girls I had met, you knew how to create conversations. You loved stories and you had this thing of seeing the best in people. No matter how somebody was, you still saw the light. And with that I knew I had found a gem. But funny enough, I never opened up to you. I never shared secrets with you. I just loved your presence, and I loved the fucking too. You had skills that would make anyone want to stick with you for a lifetime. But that would be lust, not love. And it’s not that I was a man who sexualized relationships, it’s just that I had no idea what more a lady wants. I had never been shown a certain kind of affection when I was growing up. I guess childhood trauma resurfaced in most of my hookups and I couldn’t bear the responsibilities. But for the first time, I was willing to stick around with you and learn one or two things about love.
Written by: Guncho