Cold one 2

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               There was a rustle inside. The water had stopped. She opened the bathroom door slightly, peeking out.  “What do you mean?” I looked her in the eyes, and this time, my expression was different. The shadows under the bulb gave my face a subtle weight, like the memory I was about to share had never quite let me go. “The last time kuwa na water heater,    design ilinilima ka ghasia venye nilienda kuzima maji after nimemaliza ku shower nilijipanguza maji nikalala the whole day ju ya kuboeka.” Her hand gripped the doorframe tighter. I chuckled, but it was dry, not amused — grateful. The bathroom door opened fully now. She stood wrapped in a towel, her expression unreadable but softened. “Souley,” she said, voice quieter now,  “why didn’t you just tell me that from the start?” I smiled faintly, stepping to her.  “Some scars don’t talk, unless,  someone listens long enough.” She leaned against the doorframe, th...
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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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