His name is Leo. He is in my Psych class. I like to pronounce his name in Swahili; today. 

Today. Now. The present. 

I would like him to be part of my present and my future. Sometimes I lay awake in bed at night and lie to myself that I’ll do it today. 

I pick up the phone, dial his number and say ,”Leo ni leo. Today I’ll let him know. Today I’ll tell him who I am. Asemaye kesho ni mwongo.” 

Of course I’m the liar because I never pull it off.  I never press the call button. I lie to myself everyday and I cower into the darkness yet again.

I dream of him sometimes. I can’t tell him that though. What would he think? We barely know each other. Actually , he doesn’t know me at all. I might as well be a spec of dust on the lenses of his glasses.

It doesn’t keep me from dreaming about him though.

I bet his laugh is the most beautiful sound I would ever hear. I would love to listen to him laugh at my bad jokes, again and again.

I wonder if his afro is as soft as it looks. It looks like a puffy black cloud. One that brings rain and  keeps us inside all day, to cuddle.

And his touch. What would that feel like? His hands are callused. Does he play an instrument or practice an art at his free time? Can he hold me in his arms like a Spanish guitar?

At this point, I feel like a stalker. I should stop before I become obsessed. 

Maybe he hates animals. Maybe he wears neon pink knickers. Maybe he is one of those people who are allergic to avocados (gasp!) . This is my way of unwinding myself from this downward spiral of obsession I’m heading into. 

But just when I’m starting to get over this feeling, just when I’m starting to put my mind into other things, the unexpected happens.

Planets align, the universe conspires to give me hope and fate sprinkles some fairy dust on us. Today, we made eye contact. It was slight but I felt a tug in my tummy. 

“It was probably nothing, just pure coincidence,” I think to myself. But at lunch time, he heads my way, sits next to me and says, “Hey Hannah. I hope you don’t mind me joining you today?”

Today, I found out he actually knows who I am.


(Do you guys believe in fate by the way? I’m really curious to know. Let me know in the comments?:D)


You Snooze You Lose.

She’s been sitting in the corner of the room since she came in with her friend. She is still clutching the same glass of wine, unsipped. Those heels look like they hurt like a mother. She looks ravishing still. Her dress is decent. Her hair is pulled up, showing her face. She is quite something. Just as I saw her the first time when I bumped into her at the local supermarket. I doubt she remembers me though. Her friend is over at the mini bar chatting up another fella.

“Dude, just go over there and say hi,” Kevo nudges me.

 “Yeah ,you’re going to give people the wrong idea staring at her like a serial killer,” Andy laughs at me.
My friends are right. I should just go over and say hello. She looks like she could use some company. I start making my way through the crowd to her. My heart is beating like a jack rabbit. “Get a grip Sy!” I counsel myself. “She’s just a girl. You’ve done this plenty of times, you can-”

Someone beats me to her before I even get there. I can’t move. I’m transfixed. He just said something that made her laugh. I wanted to make her laugh like that, to hear that beautiful sound. Kevo and Andy come to my rescue before I make a fool of myself. They lead me away to our booth. “Iza baba!”

“You snooze you lose buddy,” Kevo says.

“Lakini what’s with you today, Sy? Kwani you’ve lost your juice? You completely froze hahaha! This chic has done a number on you,” Andy says.

“She’s just different,” is all I can manage to say. I glance over at her again. He is telling her something that’s got her smiling. She is absolutely beeming. It’s blinding me. I suddenly feel like leaving. I take my last swig of whiskey and stand up. Kevo and Andy look up at me bewildered.

“Guys me I’m leaving. I have to get up early tomorrow.” Of course they don’t believe me. I leave anyway. My mind is foggy and I realize I am tipsy. Can I drive? I reach the parking lot and try to remember where I parked. 

As I fumble for my car keys in my pocket, my phone rings. Kevo. Probably calling me back inside because I’m missing all the fun. I hit cancel. I’m so out of it, I hear her only when she is behind me.

“Let me guess, you forgot where you parked?”

Her voice alone sets my heart racing again. “Haha, yeah. And I don’t think I can drive either,” I try to act smooth and pray she can’t hear the nervous undertone in my voice.

“It happens, trust me. I’m also a bit tipsy to drive and my friend is not leaving anytime soon.” She pulls out her phone.

I get a text from Andy :  Simon, heads up! She’s coming your way. 

So that’s why Kevo was calling me.

I recover very fast. “I was just about to call an uber. Which way are you going? We could split it maybe?” (Please say Hurlingum, please say yes, aki Jesus let her say yes.)

“Hurlingum. Sure, if you’re going that way?” 

“I am.”

Thank you Jesus!

“I’m Sy by the way, Simon.”

“I’m Idi. Mwanaidi. We’ve met before you know. At the local supermarket?”

“Haha, I honestly didn’t think you’d remember.” 

We walk towards the exits chatting. I would like to ask her about the gentleman she was talking to but I won’t. I’m just so stunned she remembers me. I guess I didn’t lose from snoozing after all.


When they bring me to court and put me in front of a judge, with a jury full of ‘saints’, when they prosecute me for murder, I will plead guilty.

I will say I did it. 

My lawyer will pass out. He has never lost a case and I wouldn’t want to put him through the agony of listening to the prosecutor give true evidence against me. I know he will have promised you that he will get me out of this jam but I cannot do that to him.

When they ask you to testify, which they will, just do it. Tell them everything. Tell the whole truth and nothing but. I want you to testify against me because only then will they understand why I did it. 

Before you get defensive and say you won’t do it, remember I told you. I told you why. Ages ago. You just brushed it off. We were spending Easter at The Hilton. Everyone was there. We were having a blast until Billy showed up drunk. He insulted me. I was used to it so I let it pass but then he insulted you and I saw the hurt in your eyes and I couldn’t take it. I lunged at him, squeezed his throat. Lesley and Judy stopped me.

Do you remember what I told you later? I said, “It felt pretty darn good. If provoked I would do it again.” You took me to therapy and we forgot about it.

When they ask you what eventually made me snap? Just tell them. Billy made me snap. The therapist said I had a killer instinct. That’s not an instinct that is always right but the one that tells me to kill. I am sick you see. I need to be put away so as to not contaminate other people.

I will plead guilty because I don’t want you to suffer seeing me in trial. I know you will blame yourself.”Why didn’t I see it sooner? I could have stopped you from becoming what you are!” No. You couldn’t. It isn’t your fault. Some people will secretly blame you for the same thing. I will secretly want to kill them too. That’s why I can’t put you through that.

When they put me on death row, I need you to do me a favor. Tell them to search the backyard. All the bodies are there. What do they have in common? They hurt you.

But the backyard is filled with roses you say? Yes. All that time I spent gardening and planting roses for you, I was actually burying all the pain in your life.

P.S I love you ❤