Alcoholics Anonymous

Alcoholics Anonymous

where-the-sweetness-lies

Where The Sweetness Lies

You can probably count the total number of times that I have eaten pineapples in all these [very few] years I have lived. It’s not that I dislike them, because you cannot dislike something that you know where the sweetness lies. See, I like pineapples, but every time I eat a slice, my tongue becomes the Rift Valley. Jack, too, realized a sweetness of his own. He was always a good boy. The one who sat in a corner and read Goosebumps novels while the rest of his classmates were busy jumping on lockers. He sat still and upright in …
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Hell-hole

Hell Hole

For some reason, there is this notion that girls do not get along with their moms. I don’t understand it. Not that I haven’t tried, because I have. I simply cannot wrap my head around it. It also doesn’t help that I get along with mine on most days. But then, as if the universe was sending me a direct message, this one girl sent me a text as I was bingeing on a Netflix series that I felt was trying too hard to be original. See, a story needs not be complicated, or about something you have never seen …
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face-to-face

Face-to-Face

“Girls have always gravitated towards me,” he says at one point in our conversation. I am tempted to ask whether this force is naturally occurring or man-made. Does it come as moths flock to a light source or bees to a flower? Instead, I let him go on. “See, I’m a girls’ guy. I’ve lived with girls. Growing up, I was surrounded by them.” He is cocky and chauvinistic. The kind of millennial that truly believes that the place of a woman is the kitchen and a man enters his house only to bark orders. He is a lost millennial. …
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Halfway-Roofless-1

Halfway Roofless

Some of you do not know that Railways was actually a train station first before it was stage ya Ronga. You have only seen it filled with buses to Ngong and Kitengela and Easy Coach. That inasmuch as it is the most common stage in this Nairobi CBD, it brought as many people to town even in the olden days. and you may think you knew this, but think about it. did you really? I know this because I was among you until I was enlightened. Brought to the light by the person who told me this story. Now, you …
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X-TIGI_20190202_160834

Belief

I used to believe in love. In two hearts becoming one To hold and to have I used to believe in together as one I use past tense because my reality took a shaking I was robbed of what I held dear I stopped believing My heart filled with fear I am afraid To hurt so bad once more To touch pain with my fingertips To shake again to my core I used to believe in love But the makings of today’s love is deceit Lies to honest hearts and knives to trusting backs I still believe in love.

IMG_20190708_015708_111

Remember

Your scars shouldn’t scare you They shouldn’t even dare provoke the vaguest idea of pain Because what you’ve gone through is nothing compared to what is ahead of you I hope you remember that Because it is the only thing that matters

Dancing-on-tables

Dancing On Tables

It often happens that I meet people I never thought I would again when I am totally zoned out while walking, thinking about pancakes or a cute puppy that I just discovered on Instagram, or trying to remember a new word I just read and forgot to write down so it slipped my mind. It happens a lot [everything from meeting these folks to recalling that bedlam means chaos] and most times, it is a huge pain, mostly because after the meeting and exchanging numbers, we will most definitely never talk. But sometimes, and very rarely, it morphs into a …
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The-House-with-No-Food

The House with No Food

The girl telling me this story has a cat. A beautiful dark grey feline with silver tips named Stormi. Like all cats, he is playful and fun and poops in the bathroom. But I was allergic to him [my first experience ever of being allergic to a furry] and it broke my heart. We had to throw Stormi out while she told me this story, and it may have been his sad meows at the door or my nose slowly blocking and my throat choking up that made this story a little difficult to follow. Some parts may be fabricated …
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delmonte-guy

Delmonte Guy

I met Fred a few weeks ago while I was staying with an aunt. They go to the same church. We had not shared a total of seven words before the day he came over and I was alone in the house. There had not been an earlier warning, so I did not let him in until I had confirmed with mwenye nyumba that Fred was expected. He was. He needed to use the internet and the electricity in his apartment were lost [is that direct translation?]… or so he told me. We sat in the common room, me on …
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The-Happy-Drunk

The Happy Drunk

When he was 15 years old, his older brother woke him up at 4.30am to go get their father. The words used were ‘Let’s go pick dad up’ which makes the whole situation sound so mundane, like their father was stuck with his luggage at the airport with no Uber money. He is the middle child, meaning he, too, at some point years into the future of his time, is forced to have this same conversation with the youngest of them. “To understand my story, I first need to tell you about my household,” his first text reads. “Alright” I …
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