Stories from the banking hall

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  People out here are angry, really angry. I know this is no way to start a story, but relax it's heading somewhere, I promise. It's a chilly morning and I'm at a bank waiting for my turn to be served, service yao ilikuwa imeanza kusumbua from Monday, but hey, that's a story for another time. I could feel like I was a bit out of place, you know? because the last time I remember I was in a bank was many years ago, when I was on campus, paying for my fees. Mzazi aliniamia bana, alijua ningepata guts, temptations za kukula fee ingekam, ningejua venye ningeilipa. So where was I?  Oh yes, there is this guy who is seated like 2 or three seats away from me, bigger and older than me from the looks of it, looks like a business man, or in lay man terms jamaa wa madeals. After a few minutes waiting, he starts getting impatient, and frustrated so he starts complaining, why is the service taking so long, can't they go a little faster, and so on and so forth.  I'm seated ther...
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Lazma ufeel

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             The lights of the city flickered like the glow of a restless soul, neon colors bouncing off wet pavement. The night was alive, pulsing like the heartbeat of a hustler who knew the streets too well. Up in this urban jungle, things moved fast, you either kept up or got swallowed whole.

I pulled up to the spot I had told my boys earlier. I was always the plug, the one with the moves, the finesse, and the game. The air outside the club buzzed with anticipation. The bouncers recognized me right away. I was the kind of guy who owned every step he took. 



I watched some newbie being stopped at the entrance by the bouncers, his confidence crumbling with each passing second because of all the stares he was getting from the people who passed him.


 Nikistep into the club, mi ndio stero,

We ukistep in the club wakufreeze 

tho you see everyone else going in, 

lazma ufeel.



It's like the lyrics were describing that exact moment. The music thumped through the speakers like a heartbeat, relentless and heavy, driving itself deep, everywhere. I smiled to myself, and did a quick scan around the club while I walked over to where my boyz were seated. 


That’s when I saw her. She was leaning against the bar, sipping from her glass something red and deadly, eyes scanning the room like she already knew who she wanted. My breath hitched for a moment. 


This girl was not like the others.




There was something dangerous in the way she smiled, a sharpness hidden beneath her soft lips. She was draped in designer from head to toe, every detail deliberate, not because she needed to flaunt, but because she could. The kind of elegance that warned you not to mistake her beauty for softness. The kind of elegance that warned you not to mistake her beauty for softness. 

You knew, the moment she let those layers fall away, she’d still leave you breathless.


Huwa anavalia ma designer 

ma Gucci 

ndio akikuvulia ki design abaki uchi, 

Lazma ufeel 


The song played while I matched my steps with the bass from the speakers moving towards her. As I got closer, she turned, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. She was not surprised to see me. She was expecting it, and seemed like she had been setting this trap all night. 

I didn’t mind getting caught, some games are worth playing.



This piece is inspired by 

Lazma Ufeel

By 

Davie Karr.



 

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

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