A few weeks ago, you left. I had no idea nor would I have guessed you would leave.
Sam messaged me.. I thought he was playing a bad joke on me.. you know Sam. Apart from being ugly, he is a joker. This time it was a bad joke though.
My phone rang.. Ma calling. I started crying.
I thought it was a bad dream.. Someone would wake me up and say Trevor Noah is coming into Kenya.. then I would be happy.
It didn’t happen.
Maybe, if you see from up there, you are wondering why I didn’t write sooner..
Well, I went home. With same little shopping for you. Hoping to find you and get blessings.
‘When is the husband coming I ?’ You would ask..
‘uhmmm… soon ma.. soon..’ I would say. You would laugh, make tea and listen to us banter with a smile on your face.. later I would go home.
Next visit, there would be food.. and lots if it.
I came in in the evening. Courageous.. holding onto a small black paper bag. You would be there.
People moving around your compound. It was muddy. Women with lesos around their waists..
Their eyes red.. either from crying or from the smoke…
Men with hands folded.. whispering at each other..
Suddenly it is cold.. I clutch my bag strongly .
‘Are you okay?’ Ma asks
‘I bet’ I whisper.
I want to turn back. But I can’t. I will find you.. then we will send them all away..
Your rich laughter will be heard.. we will have tea… I wouldn’t mind discussing husbands with you.. I promise..