Photo | Citifmonline
You love her. No! You want her. She is your lady friend. The sun swore never to go down before sighting the two of you chat, or phone. You recurrently use her pics on your WhatsApp profile. In short, you crush her. She doesn’t know that, or maybe she knows. She is also the reason other girls reject you since they think that chic is your inamorata. And because the Bible says what God has put together no man shall put a sunder, these girls don’t want to obstruct your love. You hang out with this lass frequently. Actually the whole world knows you are dating. Only your close buddies know the hell you are undergoing, in your mission to hit on her. And they’ve always condemned you for making her too close a friend, before launching your manifesto.
So you one evening gain courage. She should know how you love her. But again, you don’t want to risk spoiling the friendship. Your conscience tells you to never conceal your silly emotions for your friendship sake. But your inner devil, or angel preaches to you, and insists you should make known your so-called feelings to her. And as it has always been, you are not sure how she’ll perceive you afterwards. That’s actually why you’ve been playing safe all along. You are also a believer. Your pastor occasionally quotes these words of wisdom from the great King of Israel. The wisest king ever in the history of Israel. So you share sentiments with King Solomon, whose Ecclesiastic book says ‘there is time for everything, and a season for every activity under the sun.’ You are hence convinced that it’s the right time to make a move. And somebody made you believe that any woman who calls you dear or sweetheart loves you. That makes you almost certain that you’ve already won her heart.
Your right thumb kisses the send button button and releases that text. The one you’ve been proofreading the whole week. Two blue ticks respond. She starts typing. You cling to your Tecno H6. And hug your pillow as you think of the next vibes, probably those you’ve seen actors use to win ladies in movies. You’ve even forgotten that that’s mere acting. Next, you recite some short prayer in anticipation of the response that she’s typing the other side. Your heart is racing. Your pulse rate increases. Finally your phone vibrates. You wipe tears that have now formed in your eyes. Tears of anxiety and joy. And quickly murmur an amen as you eye up your phone, eager to read her reply. You click. It’s a text from Lucy, the one you’ve dodged for two months now. You wonder why life has to be that way. Why we always neglect things within our reach. And instead, spend our entire lives trying to get things we can never acquire. Lucy requests you go help her complete her assignment. You tell her you are not around. Which we all know is a lie.
Where were we? Oh!
She texts back and sends you these emojis that expose a guys 36 teeth, like Madowo’s, accompanied by “you are funny”. You decide to take things serious. You no longer want to appear ‘funny’ as she calls it. So you phone her and pour your heart out to her. She reminds you that she has a boyfriend, which you actually know but who are you to care. So you try convincing her until Safaricom has to cut you short eight minutes later. You reload airtime and call again. She doesn’t pick up your call. You send her a few texts. She’s online but doesn’t respond. You lie on your campus bed waiting her reply, which never comes. You try listening to Les Wanyika’s Nyako Konya and other rhumba music for a lullaby but still, no sleep knocks. You start regretting revealing your feelings.
She says “hi” the next morning. You are glad to hear from her again. The first text from your phone enquires why she did not respond to your texts yester night. She says, she didn’t see any message from you which tempts you to confront her and tell her she’s lying. Another thought strikes you, you should take a screenshot of the said messages. But your ego tells you that that’s being childish.
So you bother her for weeks until one day she gives in. ‘Giving in’ in this generation means she spreads her lower limbs on a bed, or anywhere for you. I don’t know how or why that happens. Anyway she implores you not to reveal that to her man, or to anybody else. She respects, loves and trusts him. And cannot risk losing him. She tells you she’s doing this because she trusts you. But because she has broken your virginity, you decide to take this thing to a higher level. You no longer want her mention the other guy. Not within your earshot.
You flirt about how she’s your sweet pie, and how she was meant for you, ati she’s your heartbeat. She even offers to find you a girlfriend, her pal. You call that ‘crap’. And tell her you want her, nobody else. You one time invite her to your birthday bash. You send invitations to your cousins, and a number of friends. You want to show those cousins of yours that this hot chic is officially your girl. She doesn’t show up though. She says she’s busy which makes your bash the most boring moment in your life.
Weeks later, she blacklists you and denies you access to her social media accounts and pages. I mean she blocks you, because you’ve become a nuisance. You start spying on her manually, or mechanically. One evening, a friend of yours directs you to where she is. It’s a Friday evening. She’s out with her boyfriend. So you dress for the occasion and make your way into that pub. Your eyes sweep through the pub. You notice her by her hairstyle. She is that girl laughing uncontrollably in the furthest corner. Her man must be so funny. That irritates you. Your mind tells you, you should be the one teasing her.
You charge at their table. Pull out your dagger. Stab the man. Stab her. Blood splashes. People scream. You kill!