This is a love letter

When I called you late last night

My phone’s call log has it: Last night at 11.55 I did call you. The call lasted 1 minute and 18 seconds.

You sounded yawny, hswswaffy, scroggy, groggy, soggy, toggy, moggy, foggy, shrfrugggy. Sorry for waking you up. Well, sleeping dogs should be left to lie; except when the sleeping dog is your betrothed sleeping miles away from you. Your responses were “OK, OK, same, OK, same, same, OK.” I was almost thinking you were with somebody in bed; some other man that is. I was almost tempting you to say my name and say “Baby I love you” a la Destiny’s Child. But you are not a naughty girl, ama?

Now let me tell you why I called you late last night.

I called you to feel alive. The day had harassed and crucified me so fervently I felt I had to talk to the one person among the few who might cry with sincerity when I die. With that gassy and puffy “Hallo” you said, all my troubles were shoved aside and I was alive again.

I called you, honey, so I could feel loved. I had met a couple hugging outside our residence as I came from buying vegetables. The embrace made me so, so jealous and I had to communicate to the one who has the mandate; the monopoly to give me such comfy. With that “OK, same, same” you uttered, I felt so loved; so important.

I called you for emotional healing. I don’t know why yesterday’s episode of In the Name of Love made me so charged up. It made me keep having fantasies and I felt the best way I could dispose of them was to call my beloved. With that chuckle you produced when I made the Cassidy joke that you are almost as cute as me, I felt like the main-most character in life’s biggest soap opera.

I called you because of a song. Mark Antony’s song, You Sang to Me, is still my ringtone mind you. I listen to it every other hour. My phone and its earphones haven’t complained so I guess I should still like the song. The jamaa’s voice as he says that he called his love late last night for comfort just appeals to me. Funny how humans’ experiences can sometimes resemble. You know what, as you churned those half-asleep, half-intelligible, half-romantic OKs and sames, you sang to me. O honey, you sang to me.  

I called you out of insomnia. Sleep doesn’t come easy to me nowadays, perhaps because I have too many thoughts, too many responsibilities, too many assignments. The most lulling thing to me of late is your sassy voice. So, for the one minute and 18 seconds you groggled and sroggled and smuffffed and rthussshed, you ad lib’ed a sweeter lullaby that Celine Dion’s. And how soundly I slept afterwards!

I called last night to ask the Abba question, “Why can anyone feel so lonely?” . . .

Elvis Ondieki, all the way from Moi University

This is how Moi University knows Elvis Ondieki

Ukiona ‘…’, ujaze na ‘-vo’

Kabla tuende mbali, jina langu ni El…

Ninasoma Skul of Artz, Literature nd’o changu kiti…

Tunachambuaga ma play, ma poem pamoja na ma no…

Lecturers wangu ni ka Mbova, Amuva, Mugarivi na Buso…

Stylistic devices zetu ni ka repetivo, alliteravo, tongue-twivo na ma pro…

Tunasoma Chinua Achevo, Francis Imbuvo na hata Ngugi wa Thio…

Themes tunaangalia ni ka opprevo, corrapvo, familivo na immora…

First Class nayo sitapata, juu niko na ma C zaidi ya ngo…

Aki lit kazi mingi, inabidi uvute sigavo ama utumie ve…

By the way, ikifika Vision 2030 nitakuwa naendesha vol…

Wengine by then mtakuwa mmekutwa vitu na mzee ki…

Yaani, mtakuwa mmededi ka yule first martyr, ambaye alikuwa Sti…

Hiyo time nitakuwa bizze, matanga yenu msingoje my arrai..

Nitakuwa waks niki operatia Nairobi na Antananari…

Pole, hope tutaonana Mbinguvo; tukibonga na Yevo Krisvo tukikula matu…

Fesbuvo dot kom itakuwa huko Mbinguvo, na ma modem kiba…

Tutakuwa tunafesbuku bila kuzi crack kwa netwak Yuvo, Zainvo, Orenvo au Safan…

Tutapewa laptovo za sare na stima amba…

Coil na stand za sare tutapewa za kuchemsha matu…

@ Kevo, Mbinguvo hakuna kuwatch ngwaty ama zile zako mauji…

Tutaangalia kina Shusho na Bahati Bukuvo  na Emmy Kosgevo na Emachi…

This Ne-Yo's song can help someone!

Helpful song to all male players – Lonely by Ne-Yo

Who said having many girlfriends is fun? Well, it is a good and brain-exercising adventure – till the proverbial forty days of a thief act against you. Then your life will be one terrible quicksand because the ones you have been smooth operating on will begin walking out of your life, one by one. They can even exit all at once, and you can be sure to have your heart not just broken but crushed. It all depends on how you were discovered. 

But you will reckon that, even though you can have as many lovers as can make King Mswati envious, there will be a special one who has a permanent impact on your life; one who gets etched deep into your memory. Strangely, your love for her gets stronger after she has left you. If you have such a girl in mind, dedicate this song to her. Titled Lonely, it is a 4.41-minute song off Ne-Yo’s 2007 Because of You album. 

Lonely is a song sung to create the real essence of loneliness. Ne-Yo’s genius plus the beats merge to create a really ‘lonely’ song. The persona informs us he is awake at 4 am; in a taxi.  He has instructed the driver to just drive – to nowhere in particular. Even more pitiable is the fact that he is lurched at the backseat, writing on the fog forming on the cab window. 

The chorus is delivered in a haunting manner. He says he is feeling “Y-L-E-N-O-L, as I roll past you in this taxi cab / If you care at all, that means I’m lonely.” That communicates to us that he is passing nearby the gone lover’s residence in that taxi. To me, that is a sign of utter craving.

The persona further describes how he envies a certain couple he sees strolling into a bar, hand-in-hand. He poses: “There’s a couple of different people I could call right now / But the one I’m wanting don’t want ne at all right now.” Those lines reveal to us the fact that he has several girls at his disposal, though this one haunts him most.

I once overheard an adviser on love issues say that dudes with poetic mileage score highly with the dudettes. In the same vein, this song is guaranteed to win any lady over, for it makes use of witty poetics as the persona describes his state of mind to his runaway sweetheart. Sample this: “What am I supposed to do now? / Rolling around, feeling like a fool now / Cryin’ like a b* in . . .” These, to me, are meant to create a more desperate picture of him; and that will call for more sympathies. How clever! I think such are the mistari people use to be polygamous.

Dedicating Lonely communicates two things to her: (a) that you are not yourself without her presence (because she is the one who makes you feel most complete), and (b) that, however unfaithful you may seem, she is the one who takes the lion’s share of your heart. Human beings like it when they know they are driving others nuts and this song could earn you a wowing number of points (!) 

However, dedicating it also epitomizes the African man in you – unapologetic to say the least. The persona was discovered having affairs with Chanel, Tiffany, Tracy and Stephanie (listed in stanza 1). This made the girl go away. Regardless, he is not directly expressing that he is sorry. He just says he is ‘YLENOL’, i.e.  ‘LONELY’ reversed, period. Things about remorse and regret aren’t mentioned here. He even admits that he can call several other people at that moment. How African!

Loneliness and being deserted are feelings that have informed a number of songs by various artistes, among them Akon (Lonely), Mariah Carey (We Belong Together), Backstreet Boys (Incomplete), Westlife (My Love), etc. Closer home, we have Sanaa with Najuta and Matonya with Anita.

Why I love the song His Mistakes by Usher Raymond

Usher’s His Mistakes: for a lady acting lukewarm over the wrongs of her ex

Here is a song that speaks out for those guys who don’t have the guts to say enough is enough to the clumsiness of their newly found girlfriends. It is His Mistakes by Usher, off his 2008 Here I Stand album. 4 minutes and 59 seconds long, the song has a powerful message for that lady trying to tire you. It will advise her to stop comparing you to her ex, while at the same time echoing the element of you being loving, accommodating and caring. 

Sample the paradox in these chorus lines: “I love you, girl, but I refuse to stay / Paying for his mistakes.” The persona is willing to call it quits if his new catch continues being overprotective just because her ex inflicted upon her an unforgettable heartbreak. But he insists that he loves her and is willing to do anything to prove it. Thus he says in the chorus: “I’ll do anything to prove I love you / Baby girl but I refuse to / Pay for something I didn’t do . . .”

True, a heartbroken lady will always be riding by the ‘once bitten twice shy’ adage. But why should the guy who comes next be the one to suffer? Why should an innocent bloke who has made a catch be trapped in a catch 22 while he should be focusing on a bright future?

Any guy who has ever hooked up with a chick on a rebound will concur that the initial phases of the relationship are not the rosiest of moments. She is ever suspicious, overly cautious, negative about men in general and is, on end, not so interesting to be with.

To add insult to injury, some even begin telling you how well-behaved the ex was when he was at the same stage of the relationship as the one you are in. Such responses as, “Even him he used to take me out whenever I wanted to . . . even him he always said he would like to marry me . . .” are commonplace. Eventually you look like somebody who is committing some sort of crime by falling in love.

The persona in the song captures the aspect of unfair comparison by stating in stanza two: “Just because he did [leave a scar on your heart] / You swear I’m cheating / You think I just don’t care . . .” A line in the song that depicts the element of tiredness says in the chorus, “Always guilty before the sin / I can’t win, no I can’t win.”

Sure, one can’t score much when guilt defines every other thing one does. Determination to let bygones be bygones on the side of the guy is highlighted by posing in stanza two again, “Don’t let his wrongs to tear us apart / ’Cause girl I’m your man.” A more radical statement is made at the bridge of the song: “I know he did you wrong / But tell me what does that / Have to do with me?”

If you happen to be facing a similar situation to the persona’s, don’t hesitate to dedicate the song to her. Who knows, it might make her realise how overbearing she has been and that you are ready to part with her if she stops being haunted by the shadow of her errant ex. And that might iron things out.

The song is also a befitting dedication to that lady who is quick to rush into another man’s arms too soon after parting with her boyfriend. Psychologists advise that a break-up ought to be followed by a ‘holiday’ which one should spend picking up their pieces. If she goes too fast into another relationship, chances are high that the ex blues are still lingering upon her — and she will most definitely be doing an unhealthy comparison between the present and the past boyfie.

Letter to my only sister, long dead

If only you were alive, my only sister . . .

[In memory of my sister who died before all children in our family could see her]

Dear sister,

Receive greetings from your bro. Imagine I am now 23! It is 2011AD down here, and you could soon be celebrating your 27^th birthday had you been still amongst us. Now I am at a cyber café, having read and replied to my mail. I don’t know how I clicked the ‘Compose Mail’ button and decided to send this mail to you. mysister@heavenangels.com is the address I’m going to send it to, and, who knows, that Daemon might forget to send back the mail to me, informing me that the message couldn’t be sent.

Mum tells me you left them in a most brutal manner. I often imagine how bitter the fact was to them: young, inexperienced parents as they were. Their first born dying before her second birthday is a fact they must have taken really long to grapple with. Dad never talks much about it but I know it must have been such a trying time for him.

Your departure seemed like a spell; for you are the first and last daughter our family could ever see. Now, dear sister, you have five brothers, and not a sister to ‘screensave’. There are moments I feel like organising a demonstration, demanding for a sister from mum and dad. But I have come to realize that choosing the sex of one’s child is one hell of a delicate matter, operating between complex science and some unfathomable concepts involving God. Besides, my parents also seem to have given up the search. When the naughty bug bites me I usually think that they must have realized they were risking having a rugby sevens team in their search for a girl. They thus called it a day.

 I’m writing you this to let you know that I have been imagining how my life would have been with you around. I am sure it would have been total fun! Like ‘other boys’, we wouldn’t have been cooking, going to the river, mopping the house, washing our clothes and doing many other ‘feminine’ tasks that we are forced to do; tasks which my colleagues term effete. Lately, they have been advising me to get married. Their ridicule sometimes gets too much but I have learnt to live with it.

Ridicule aside, there are also moments I wish I could be like my friends with sisters.  Funny as it may sound, I have been fantasizing about chasing a dude from our compound. I am not joking, dear sister. Anybody with a sister does it here in the village. I can’t help thinking about catching a sleazeball unawares by our fence and whipping every bit of stupidity out of him, “for who told you to woo my sister? She’s not your type!” That is the line my friends say they use when performing that ‘demanding’ task.

It would even be fun keeping my fingers crossed, waiting to see you pregnant – before marriage of course. Again I’m serious. Here in the village, you never know the day or the hour when you will see somebody’s tummy bulging. Girls get pregnant by the hour and it is no longer news to see somebody’s daughter loaded. Whether it is lack of contraceptives of over-fertility of men around here I can’t tell. But let me ask you, dear sister: Would you also have had a bun in the oven so early? I bet I couldn’t let you. And if by accident that happened, for a million dollars I wouldn’t have let you abort. They do it here as if it is another call of nature. There were only short and long calls when you were here last. Now there are longer calls involving pregnancy termination.

I know, definitely, from here I will go to our family album. For the umpteenth time I will stare hard at that only photo you took with mum and dad. It is that photo in which you are innocently staring at the camera with our parents, very young then, holding your hands. I will look at your shy smile and smile in retrospect, with an assurance that, like all those who deride me, I ALSO HAVE A SISTER!

–Your loving bro, the second born; third born had you been alive.