Waswa

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 In my days of service I had this friend called Waswa. He was way older than me, like 3 years older but tulikua tume enlist na yeye and we found ourselves sharing a barrack cube. Tulikua 4 in 1 cube. One night while we were off duty, he told me why he joined the military. Waswa was in JKUAT, Juja campus, and he was having some sort of entanglement with his schoolmate, a pretty petite lass called Syombua.  Our boy Waswa was the one visiting her because he was in a shared hostel. Waswa’s pretty lass, Syombua, lived in Weiteithie, in a well furnished apartment. Their relationship was like 3 or 4 months old but Waswa had received all sorts of treatment. From slices to the other slices, I know you know, and if you don't, jokes on you.  Kijana in his mind assumed that the lady came from a seriously loaded family. Makosaa. Sasa one Friday Waswa as usual goes for a sleepover knowing atakula vizuri pande zote. They enjoy the night and netflix as usual until they heard, “Fungua hap...
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Sababisha

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31st March, 

I was genuinely happy. 



I would say, it was Easter Sunday when Jesus rose from the depths of Hades and hell, but that would be pulling your leg, because it wasn't the main reason. It is not that I do not appreciate that feat of having to endure being whipped mercilessly by violence loving Roman soldiers, dragging a cross weighing a ton while being jeered and whipped then proceeded to be nailed to the cross to your death, descending into the land of the dead, and hell, then rising from Hades. 

That's one badass maneuver.

You have started wondering, what has made this individual happy? Has the said individual landed on a deal, so lucrative to ensure not only his family, but his whole clan lives in abundance and never lacks even once, 

as the Gen Z say, kutoa fahm kwa block? 

Or 

has somebody's daughter whispered something to the individual to make his mood jolly like Zakayo discovering new tax avenues?

Rest your wandering thoughts on what made me happy, relax because I am going to tell you. It all started a month and half ago, someone had angered me so much, I was feeling murderous. I can't remember what it was. In such situations, I opt to call one of my few trusted G's, as I don't want to act impulsively. 

In this case, I opt to call my G, Tommie, so when we were talking he suddenly dropped a piece of info that made my anger slowly dissipate like dew when the sun comes up. 


“Nilisubmit film mbili Kalasha, 

moja ikakuwa nominated.

Sijui mbona, 

hawakunominate hio ingine

na venye ilikuwa kali.”

I'm trying hard to be calm, I have started sweating a little. Did I hear it right? My G, nominated for an award? I breath, and reply,

“Hio ni fiti sana!

skuma link nikuvotie kaka!

Then 

tuanze kupepeta hizi votes

Uwahi hii Kalasha 

ama vipi?”

The convo shifts, and we start strategizing on how he is going to cap the award. The call ends. Each of us pushes for edging closer to my G, lifting his award for his work. The numerous calls, the Dms to push the link to each single person to vote, to take my G a step closer to the award right until the day the voting ends. 

The anxiety and disappointment when a certain mishap happens along then drumroll please, on Saturday seeing my G lifting the Kalasha awards for his work, Art on the Skin. A captivating documentary, which dives deep into the world of body art, shattering stereotypes and igniting your passion for self-expression.  




Who would have ever guessed, 

when Letstoriesunfold is on your team, 

you are bound to win? 


They didn't lie when they said, the end justifies the means. That ladies, and gentlemen, I would say, is what made me genuinely happy. Cheers to more wins this year and the next.



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

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