Freitag(German for Friday)

It’s going to be a long read. I hope you enjoy reading. Bits here and there of Wild Thoughts. Stimulating.

Friday is most people’s favourite day of the week. It is the end of a busy schedule and beginning of a freer time, weekend.  For the employed then it is the end of work week, if you check in on Saturdays then you get to leave early. For school going kids then they look forward to play now that Saturday tuition has been abolished, prohibited rather because in Kenya such laws do not really apply. Business is as usual lakini chini ya maji. For Muslims, it is our small Eid. We go to the mosque, pray together after listening to the khutbah. Thereafter we visit relatives or hang in with family. And for those of us who live by partying, clubbing and YOLO-ing then it begins on Friday and wrapped up on Sunday. Friday is everything for us on earth. It is the day of Days.

It was now 9:30 am and my ass was still in bed. I was tossing and turning, writing and changing songs. Music was blasting through the entire room. I didn’t have a care in the world. I hadn’t had breakfast yet despite the fact that I had been up as from 6am. I was drinking a lot of water as the previous day a headache attacked me due to lack of the same. Papi had already left for school and I was used to him making my breakfast. Colloh came in and said that I was spending too much time in bed. I agreed. After taking a shower and changing out of Papi’s t-shirt into his jeans and tee, lately I had removed my bra from the equation of dressing, I was ready to watch Friday unfold for me. Or us should I be more inclusive.

By now some guys had already come in. The sheesha pot was being prepared and blunts passed round. I was watching, I’m done with drugs. At some point Brian(not mine) and Colloh made me have some few puffs but thereafter I became more resistant. I was the only girl in the room, bra-less at that. Brian was pestering me. I knew that there was nothing he was going to whisper into my ears that would make me go into a room with him. He was getting me worked up. I’m not one of those girls you find at parties and go into rooms with them. If you find me at a party, I’m there to socialize, meet at least one person whom I can identify with. He didn’t get that. He didn’t even know because I didn’t tell him. But that still isn’t the point.

Joel came to me and asked why I appeared bored. He asked what I liked watching and few taps on the keyboard later we were locked on screen. It was refreshing to have someone to talk to. We got to know the basics about each other. He checked out my blog and he tried cracking me. He said he wanted to understand me, my emotions especially. He failed. I went on to tell him that I am way older than all of them put together. He couldn’t believe it till I told him my age. He began seeing some light on how I was carrying myself. He wondered why I was hanging out with younger guys than myself. I didn’t exactly give him a concrete answer.

I want a younger husband. 6 years or so. It’s not only about good sex. He should be in high school at the moment. I can be patient. I’ll wait 😊

That night, we made chapatis. Me and him. They were my first (now you know I’m not exactly wife material 😝😝)  Papi came in the kitchen near the end and conversation flowed with constant laughter. We finished the chapatis. They were a bit hard but through all the intoxication, no one complained, they ate them all. By now the two other girls who had come in earlier had already gone. Some guys too. Again I was the only girl there. With no bra on. Why do we have to wear them? We had supper at around 10:30pm, Brian had prepared beef stew. I was too tired cook more. We all sat down to a movie and by the end of it most of them were sleeping. It was only me and Joel at some point and we watched a few episodes of Roommates. The night was short, morning came and I had to leave for the photoshoot I promised Safari I would attend.

Exactly one week later,  I am up at 7. By the time I’m done with my morning activities, including preparing breakfast (it’s not everyday you have a guy to give you that BiB experience) it was already 9. I had a script to complete. I had promised to finish the night before but I convinced myself I was too tired from travelling. I was sure it would only take me an hour or two at most to get it done as I had an appointment at 2pm. Boy was I wrong!

It was now 12:30 pm and I wasn’t anywhere near done. It was required at 3pm. I was snapping at him who gave me the work. I didn’t want to be addressed, he was slowing me down. I was rushing through it to avoid being late. I was frustrated, angry even (I have anger issues). I hate being late. I’m a punctualist, for lack of a better term. I worship time. Those who haven’t kept time with me know how I can get. I’m not that patient.

1:24pm I’m now in the mat, my destination being town. Mzangila calls to check if I’ll still be attending. My confirmation is positive. I call him once I’m in town and he keeps me for almost half an hour. I’ll let this one pass as it was our first meeting. On to Ford Hall, Nairobi National Museum. It was 3pm. Cringe! We were an hour late. We took our seats and joined in the discussion.

It was lively. When did the rain start beating on us? Could you answer that? I personally passed my chance to speak. I thought it leaned more on the political side. I hate politics and if I can avoid it I do my best to keep out of it. As the others in attendance spoke, I realized I was among the problematic in society. I had vowed never to vote. I realized its not about voting or speaking out that brings about effective policy change. It’s what we as citizens do. Our togetherness and how we basically treat the next human being. Ujamaa. 

Our guest was Mr Allan Aringo. I can’t finish if I began describing him. He is fluent in English, Spanish, Italian, French, you name them. He runs Language Experts. He is also a lecturer at USIU. He is a man of vast knowledge. He got me curious. How can one person know that much? I always thought I was informed, intelligent even. He proved to me that there was so much I needed to know. As if reading my mind (although I’m the psychologist here), he said the answer was in books. Read, read and read some more.

Kenyans don’t have a reading culture and we are all to blame. As our children grow up, we instill a mentality in them that reading is for exams. And they register it into their minds. Very few learn that this is the wrong way to go and break out of what has been driven into them. The rest end up getting done with books as soon as they clear their certificates, diplomas or degrees. It is truly unfortunate. The brain therefore ends up accumulating nothing new. No new cells reproduced. Dormancy. Oh well, my Biology is poor. The only thing others read are messages on social media and circulating memes.

Mr Aringo made me want to dig in on History. Yes, at some point in high school I might have hated it but the good thing now is I won’t be subjected to exams. People listening to me will give me respect. They might not blurt out that they do, but I would have earned it. All as simple as investing in 2 books a month, or 4 if your schedule is less demanding. Your imagination will be broadened, there are too many advantages. A broader mind is very essential in this life.

After Mr Allan left, we got to interact with each other. I met so many people and added them to my network. That is what I would call it. I’ll mention those I talked to or heard their names. Faith, Mercy, Gabriel, Wanjiru, Zahra, Nurah, Geoffrey, Yvonne and Mzangila (thank you for walking with me there😊).

I have found the best way to spend my Friday afternoons. And that is at Writers Ekklesia. You are welcome to join us next time. You will learn, have fun and most importantly interact with great minds!

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