Butwaa! 2

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Continuation from Butwaa Any mlevi reading this knows that hio mkojo ndio ime hold back kuzima ziii. So Liz takes her to a nearby washroom, and when she comes back, her legs seem to have forgotten their function, you know, like holding the body weight and supporting locomotion. Miguu zake ziko jelly jelly. So she just says,  "ebu mnishikilie kiasi"  That, my friends, was the last time I saw her standing. Her eyes shut, her mouth failed the speaking test, and she just fell into our hands. Visiting hours zimeisha, amevaa uniform, tuko in a location civilian hawafai kukuwa. Trouble was brewing like the water we just drank. We tell Liz juu pia yeye ako na uniform aende akuje na help as we try to make her vomit and pour water on her. Waapi!  Liz alienda na simu yake and the clothes we had brought. Mpaka leo 11 years later hajawai rudi. We are there for 30 mins and catch the radar: civilians on government land. A whistle is blown, and close to 40 officers ...

Damn!

 I’ve been quiet lately. 

Not because I joined a meditation retreat in Tigoni or went offline to “find myself” in Ngong Hills. No. My situation ship had ghosted me again, and my bank balance was giving K.P.L.C. token vibes, very dark and annoying. It started on a random Saturday in my crib. 


I was lying on my bed, scrolling endlessly through Twitter, laughing at people with soft lives, I decided to do something I hadn't done in a while, think. Proper thinking. Not the one where I pretend to reflect but actually just replaying movies in your head that you have previously watched.




I had this deep reflection while staring at my ceiling, asking the universe the big questions after munching on three chapatis with beans 

(you'll have to excuse my love for chapatis), 

and then as I lay there in silence 

(ok, there were a couple of mosquitos buzzing around, 

but still), 

the truth knocked, and it hit me. 


Accountability is not a punishment, 

it’s power. 


My empty account? The various interactions I had that had been draining my soul like Safaricom data when you use it? Everything wrong in my life? Lowkey, it’s on me. Yes, me. It stung, but weirdly, it felt freeing. Because if I’m the problem, then I can also be the solution.  


I made some changes. Small ones, like focusing on gigs that align with me, not just accepting anything because they said exposure. I stopped replying to “Uko?” texts. I even created a budget, funny right?


 (Ok, I blew it on day 3, but 

progress is progress.) 


I found peace in being alone. I started writing, not because I have all the answers, but because maybe, just maybe, someone else in either Kayole or Kitusuru feels like they’re drowning too. So here I am, still broke-ish. Still figuring things out, but now I’m doing it with my chest.


If you’ve ever sat somewhere and wondered venye maisha inakupeleka ka baiskeli ya kuibiwa, you’re not alone. But what if, instead of waiting to be rescued, you picked up the pen and rewrote your own story? Choose your own growth, real growth, like saying no to people. 


~Anonymous Writer


~Edited by Letstoriesunfold™.



Comments

  1. Nice one bro . signed by your brother Generali.

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