When life gives you lemons, make lemonade

Wednesday, 30 March 2016

Heart of glass : my first love

Sometimes we live to hurt even if it hurts to leave....
The situation that puts your head in the blender and crushes it like soft ice.
Maybe once I was capable of falling in love. Heck I thought I was in love so deep
My neck would break and I wouldn't sleep
Until my days passed slowly and swiftly
Into my wrinkly state where I'd watch you
By the side of my eye as we then white haired folks
Drew nearer to our Lord.

Was I in love then?
Was my fairytale story scraped off by the mere act of lack of gratitude?
Were the gods so merciless
That they wrote a story so brutal yet so perfect Of a heart meant to melt slowly
from youthfulness to old age?

I always wondered if I was cursed.
Girls fall in love once.
Maybe my once had come and gone.
There was a time I couldn't breathe...oh I was intoxicated with love so lethal my lungs threatened to leave my body
My heart had swollen in the most unimaginable ways yet managed to stay intact in my chest.
Ah yes! We were young. It was impetuous.
It was reckless. It was oh so good.
I loved him? Did he love me?
I adored him, he dotted on me!
Burning, passionate and extremely insane.
It withered so fast I thought I'd die.
Perhaps the flame we ignited was too strong
After it was done, it stung to touch, see and think

Friday, 18 March 2016


I drift merrily on the white beach sands of the great coast of Dar es salaam.
My head hovers freely as I go. I have had a few glasses but my insides chant in harmony. My mouth curves into a smile. I can not breathe. I close my eyes. I cannot feel.
Soft ocean waves caress my barefoot in perfect delight.
I'm at absolute peace. My dress dances fondly with the breeze. My mind is at ease and I'm unstoppable in that moment.
Flares of laughter and joy fill my heart and soul.
I smile knowingly as a new realization settles down my being.
A journey I always hungered after. Inspiration that no thirst could quench was finally smiling back at me up in the clear blue skies of Hakuna Matata.
It was like all the pain I'd ever felt was suddenly gone. I wasn't alone anymore. I never was.
So much beauty and tranquility engulfs me.
I can't breathe but I'm ecstatic. My body is a merry_go_round floating through a colossal abundance of serenity.
I have found my true love. I'm searching no more.

Thursday, 10 March 2016

The stray

I sit here staring at my bony feet and chewing carelessly at my already heavily slashed down nails.
Suddenly, I feel the slight heat from too much friction. I realize that I'm twisting my middle finger a little too hard- something I haven't done since I was a little girl.

I remember it so vividly now. I had broken dad's favorite leather watch from Sweden- original make- he had always emphasized in a some-what warning voice.
I recall how he swung his thick buckled leather belt in the air. Held so tightly in his left hand. He bellowed to me from the living room and I could hear his thunder ring echo strongly through the corridor.
I twisted my middle finger knowingly behind my back as I walked towards him...

Naturally, I swallowed hard and I sunk inside. The torment I carry in my heart is so unforgivable yet I know too well that forbidden fruits taste sweetest.
Guilt settles heavily in my stomach and anxiety washes mockingly over me.
I can't dare look into mother's eyes.
Voices of condemnation slowly begin to fade into the background.
The look in Madam Fatumah's eyes are reminiscent of a turmoil of emotions. There is a slight glint of disgust and yet so much nostalgia.
Her mouth folds begrudgingly in a mute frown. Her gaze is far away and speaks volumes of heavy dilemma.

Looking around, I realize that no one is here. Not physically. Not at all.
Mother's face is covered by her "judgemental" sun glasses but I can see the heavy weight of pain and anger by the creases at the corner of her mouth and her heavy breaths.
She looks at her heavily glittery pink watch over and over again and then away as if looking or waiting for someone.
She never looks at me however. Not for a second.

I wonder who is coming this time, "father or grandmother?"