Nòî

Image
On another episode of: things that never happened, or did they? Saturday or Sunday, many many many moons ago. I used to go to the bafu na towel pekee always wondering how women always walked around in skirts. So after showering it was free mode mpaka kejani. Kwa buloti, it was a communal bathroom so you had to carry your bucket. Na ukipata mtu yuko ndani, unapanga laini. On this particular day nilikuwa nimechemsha maji niko ready kuingia kwa bafu, jirani beat me to the bathroom by seconds. I left my bucket full of warm water hapo nikiwa frustrated then nikaingia kejani kutime akitoka, naruka ndani. Asubuhi gets chilly so you can't just hang around there waiting ukiwa kifua iko nje, umejifunga towel pekee. Akamaliza nikaskia mlango yake imefunga, nikakimbia bafu fasta fasta maji yangu isipoe, ingepoa ingekuwa balaa. Kumbe she was not yet done, alikua ameacha karai yake na maji hapo ndani arudi kuosha kifuniko. Mimi naye nokatoa hio basin nje nikaingia kwa bafu, this is not ...

Sababisha

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 Kalash

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.



Comments

Post a Comment

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

Popular posts from this blog

Death at a funeral, the interrogation.

Cloud 9 , what's next?

Miss Anonymous 2

Back to the basics.