Sina...

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Imekuwa long tangu nichonge story ka venye Michelangelo alikuwa anachonga vitu clean many centuries ago. Story ilikuwa iende live but draft ilikuwa kwa simu, na simu ilizama kwa maji ka Petero venye alijishuku ati ni yeye anatembea kwa maji. Fundi naye kumpelekea simu akakuwa kama ule jamaa wa promises bandia za in “6 months”. Fundi amekaa nayo almost three weeks, ananichocha daily ati anaunda, kumbe anani-enjoy tu, simu imemlemea na hataki kunichapia.  Kuishi bila simu blunder, unasikia ni uko kwa kichaka ama ka wewe ni inmate. Nimefikiria venye shillingi itatoka nishike device ingine; itatoka ju fundi alishindwa kufufua simu hadi akili imetap out. Nikiscroll scroll YouTube nikiwa nimetulia after nimetoka kuchapiana na Boyz wangu Kimani ma one two one two, nimebump into this song called Wasted Story by Virusi Mbaya, sijui ni kama ni coincidence ama nini,  but nimerelate nayo mbaya sana na kuna part moja imepenya  “…Saka kila siku it's not enough..” “...Ma...
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Visanga vya Ambrose part 3

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The patient monitor showed Ambrose pulse and vitals as he slowly gained consciousness bit by bit. He sensed that there seemed to be somebody in the room with him because he sensed movement and someone speaking but he could not comprehend what the person was saying.

He tried to find out who it was, by turning his neck to check but it was futile attempt plus the pain that accompanied the effort was too much even for the heavy pain killers that were continuously being infused in his body by a drip. 

His mind raced, various thoughts rushed to him at once. As much as he could, as much as he tried, he could not block out those thoughts. 

Where was he? 

Did his wife hire someone to finish him off quietly?

Had he been fired from his job?

Had news had reached the HR? 

Was she gloating over his misfortune. 

What the hell had happened? 

It all came flooding back to him gradually at first then it greatly intensified. From the HR's smirks to the house girls tears all the way from the office to where he had seen her off as she had boarded a night bus to Busia to him arriving home confidently smiling pleased with himself for delivering the perfect gift that his wife had demanded from him, Ambrose, chairman man of God as solace for cheating on her. 

Imagine his surprise when he found himself being greeted by scalding hot water as he reached the  doorstep followed shortly by his fat hippo like wife and her two sisters accosting him as soon as he stepped foot in his house. 

The fury that had been unleashed unto him after showing the ingenuity and wisdom of his peace gift to her even the devil and his demons stood aside to take notes. How his two eggs hanging below his third leg were the first casualties of the beating. 




He tried keeping his eyes open as much as he could but it was difficult to do so. His eyelids were heavy like there were weights attached to them, and his eyes felt swollen, scratch that, his eyes and his whole body felt swollen. All that he managed to see were blurred images it was looking on a foggy screen or glass covered in steam.

He felt a someone touch his arm briefly. The touch was soft, his mind relaxed, there was no way a killer could have such soft smooth hands. He heard the person talking again.


“Ambrose, 

I thought we had lost you.”

Wait a minute, had he really sunk that low to the pits, that the first person who actually came to see him was the HR?

“Damn it!”

He cursed, every movement he made was punctuated by a sharp wince of pain. If  he could have seen his battered and bruised body from the outside he would have wished for a trip to Hades. He remembered the kicks and blows he got, and him thinking to himself before it was lights out for him, 

“So this is how I die?

In the hands of a woman?”

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Is a pleasure to keep you as my reader entertained. Peace✌️

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