in another world, maybe,

my love for the girl with big pink lips would be fire

and I would make love to her on the rooftop

below the shimmering stars on a cold moonlit night

and the world would feel like our playground

but loving her is forbidden

and loving her would get us ridden

so in this world, i look at her from a distance

and laugh silently at her wrinkled smile

and brush by her as her sweet scent fills the air

and curse this cursed world for its cruelty

...in another world, it would be just you and me

I am dazed.

Yes, that I am. I started working here as an intern. At first, it was exhilarating. The early mornings, the meetings, the new people and new places and new things... Everything felt new. And why wouldn't it? It was a new beginning for me. A new chapter in my life. I had joined the working class. Now, I had places to go after work on Friday nights with people whose conversations included wives, husbands, babies and adulting. And it felt exhilarating, again.

But quickly you learn that life is like a water bubble. When a bubble is blown in the air, sometimes it soars higher and higher away. Sometimes it goes down, and boom! Other times, it just floats on straight ahead. But sooner or later, pop goes the bubble and the frenzy of flight disappears into thin air. And the bubble of my life at the time came to a loud, noisy, painful pop. Reality struck in. I woke everyday for months going to the company, working my behind off. Toiling. Sweating. Tiring myself to the core. But why? For some measly salary that could hardly pay for a month's bills? Why does it have to feel like such a burden?

Then it hit me. There is probably nothing wrong with my job, nor the company I work for. One day, at one of our many nights out, the team was talking and it seemed they all loved working at the company. They enjoyed their time there and were not looking for anything else, elsewhere. They enjoyed the early mornings and late nights with no benefits. What the hell? I just couldn't fathom what their deal was. I decided to assume they knew something that I didn't. Maybe I wasn't good enough to know it. May be I should try a little harder to get there. And so, harder I tried. I tried so hard, I felt my heart bleed from the inside. I tried so hard, I had dreams about my job. But then when I awoke, I still hated my job.

So, yeah. There's that. No matter how hard I tried, I still hate my job. So, I spent more and more time on Youtube. The videos were my new friends. I stopped going to lunch with colleagues so I could catch up on my videos. Then I stumbled on a motivational speaker. You know how they start talking and suddenly, it's like they can see your life and know just what to say to make things make sense? Yeah, that's exactly how it fellt. Very vivid. And very cryptic.

But I listened. And I heard what she was saying. Look inside you and find the hero within. The one who is not scared and not fazed. The one who stands tall no matter what. The you before everything went downhill. And I found her. I found the me within me. The artistic me that could not pursue a dream because it would be frowned upon. The one who made mistakes and is ready to forgive herself. I found the me that even I didn't know was in me. I found the me that loves to write and create and mull over a story because it simply doesn't sound right. And I love the me that I found. So, here is to my new bubble. May it soar higher and higher everyday.

They crawled silently through the hall. Making sure to remain as silent as possible. Kyle sniffled.

“Shh!” Jonathan said.

“I’m sorry.” Mouths Kyle, too scared to speak outloud.

Downstairs, they could hear things being broken. It was noisy and loud and scary. They had no idea who was downstairs or what they wanted. They just knew they needed to get out of there fast. Unfortunately, they had limited options on outlet points. The only ways out were through the front and the kitchen doors. But both doors were downstairs. And so were the intruders. They got to the entrance of their parents’ bedroom, but seeing as they were home alone, they knew there would be no one in there to help.

Suddenly, they heard someone coming up the stairs. Quickly, they got into their parents’ bedroom, locked the door behind them and ran under the bed.

“What are you doing?” A voice outside in the hallway asked.

“What does it look like?”

“You’re not supposed to be up here. Get back downstairs, now.”

Kyle and Jonathan looked at each other, surprised. They both recognized one of the voices. But they could not believe it.

“Peter?” They both mouth out the name, in realization, confusion and fear. It was impossible to iagine that Peter would do anything like this. He was like a brother to them. Their parents treated him like one of them.

“Let’s get what we came for and go. No one needs to get hurt.” Said Peter.

“I thought you said the house is empty?” Other guy.

“Does it matter? As long as we get what we came for, the rest...”

“But I bet there are valuable things in the bedrooms. That’s where people keep the best of everything.”

“Yes,” replied Peter. “But we are here for the stash I hid.”

“Hey guys, let’s go. Found it.” A third voice.

“You heard the man, Max. Let’s go.”

“But the other rooms...”

“Would you rather I call and tell him you want us to get caught because of a few dollars worth of jewels?” Asked Peter, angrily.

“Fine. Let’s go,” replied the other guy.

Kyle and Jonathan lay under the bed listening to their footsteps as they went down the stairs. They heard the front door open and close. The house was finally quiet. Maybe too quiet. They were still too scared to leave their safe haven. They lay there under thebed holding hands, too scared to breath loudly for what felt like hours. Suddenly the front door opened loudly.

“Kyle? Jonathan? Are you ok?”

Steps coming up the stairs. It was Peter. He was back and he actually sounded concerned. Peter stopped infront of their parent’s bedroom and tried the knob.

“Guys, I know you’re in there. Please open the door and let me explain. It’s not what you think.”

Kyle and Jonathan looked at each other, shocked. Jonathan shook his head, as if to tell Kyle that they could not trust Peter. What were they going to do?

He lay in bed. Cautiously looking at her as she moved. The rules were clear. No names. No eye contact. No intimacy. This was just for fun and money. He hated having to do this. But it was the only way he could make enough to survive. So, he lay in bed and waited. Slowly, the room came alive with red dim lights

She turned to look at him and he quickly shifted his eyes to face the ceiling. He was not supposed to look at her. “You like what you see?” She asked in a deep husky voice.

“No, ma’am. I mean, yes. I mean...” he was baffled. What answer was correct? “I mean, I’m not permitted to look ma’am. It’s against the rules.” He finally answered, with a bit of confidence.

“Don’t look, don’t like it, don’t touch. All these many rules.” She said, her voice deeper than the last time. She was now standing beside the bed hovering over him. His eyes were tightly shut now.

“Do you want to know what I think of the rules?”

“Yes ma’am.” Ever the dutiful little moose he is supposed to be.

“I think they are pointless.” Silence. “What do you think?”

“I’ll think anything you want, ma’am.” He tried redirecting the conversation back to business. “I’m here to please you.”

She looked at him in silence; eyes tightly closed, hands and legs tied to the bed posts, stark naked. Both a handsome and beautiful sight.

“Yes, indeed you are. Well, enough chit-chat. Let’s get down to the pleasing.” She said as she got on the bed, put an eye mask on him and straddled him.

Two hours later, he walked out of his car. His back was sore, his lips hurt and he felt violated in more ways than he could count. He opened his wallet and looked at the stack of bills inside and sighed deeply. He walked into his house. His wife and daughter were fast asleep. He went upstairs and looked in on his daughter and smiled. He walked into his bedroom. His wife lay sound asleep, her breathing soft and calm. He went to the bathroom and ran himself a hot bath to soak in. As he lay in the bathtub, he reflected on that night’s events. It was his first time but it was worthit. He would be able to pay the bills for the next few weeks with what he’d been paid.

He would need to text his best friend before he went to sleep and tell him to confirm they were out together that night. His wife trusted him enough, but the truth is a slippery thing. It always tends to slip out. He could not let that happen. He got out of the tub and slid into bed next to his wife. She turned and cuddled next to him. He held her tightly, crying silently. He closed his eyes and begged to get some sleep fast. But all he could think of was that he was now a gigolo.

Like a hurricane

you came into my life with fury

what did i gain?

to understand, i might need a jury

now i cry in vain

you left my feelings a mushy puree

you ruined me with the glory

the fulfillment of detailed gory

of lust so strong it's almost folly

of desires so wrong it almost unholy...

but each day i bask in the memory

a kiss here, a touch there, a lick full of felicity

i moan, i shudder, the weight of all the joy

i miss it, i yearn it, i want it again

i crave it like i crave the air that i breath.

where art thou, my love? I want you back

in my house, my heart...in me

take me, overwhelm me, devour me

anything, evrything, what you must

all it takes to take away

this empty feeling of longing in me

I'm ready my love.

I'm ready to be owned again.

i’m not going to excuse myself for all of my goodbyes

don’t call me anymore even when you’re dying inside

leave me and my shakes alone

even when my cold sweats won’t disappear

plase just leave me alone i don't want to reappear

you don’t know why i do it every time

even when i am not lonely

all the time i cave in i don’t even fight,

i don’t want to try why should i even bother trying

why do you care that i’m lonely?

mama i’m not sorry i’m not sober anymore

and daddy please just ignore the drinks spilled on the floor

to the ones who never left me what are you waiting for

i’m not sorry i’m not sober all the time

screw you my future love for the man that left my bed

i made love to him better than i do to you in my head

i’m not sorry to the fans i lost, you finally realized

don’t make me your role model, i’m a messed up human

i’m not sorry that i’m here again

and that you think i need help

screw you and your intentions

sorry to yourself.

Valerie, you are my yellow,

my first best friend bright as the sun

you taught me how to trust a friend.

Magdalene, you are my blue,

the best friend who made me cry

you broke my heart and my trust.

Consolata, you are my purple,

always there for me no matter what

you made me feel like royalty.

Faith, you were my green,

being the new kid is not so easy

you made me be at home.

Lisa, my darling red,

oh how i love you to this day

you were and are the best of friend.

Momoh, you are my brown,

so much adventure and zeal for life

you taught me fun, woman!

Linda, you were my black,

you brought out the darkness in me

but you hurt me so bad it hurts to date.

Phyllis, you were my orange,

shy, cheeky, chaste, silent

you were my sanity in so many ways.

Maureen, you are my white,

the best of everything

the very best of everything.

(Swahili)

tazama angani nyota zinavyong'aa

na maji mtoni yanavyo tiririka

ndege hewani wanvyopaa kwa uhuru

upepo unavyovuma kwa kiburi

kisha nami nitazamae mpenzi

jua kwa moyo wangu wote

miaka yote nitakayo ishi

maneno yote nitakayosema

na yote ambayo nitafanya maishani

mpenzi, amini kuwa nakupenda

na nitazidi kukupenda milele

hadi nyota ziwache kung'aa

na maji mtoni yakwishe

na ndege kupaa washindwe

na upepo kuvuma uwache.

Mpenzi, nakuenzi.

(English)

look how the stars shine

and the river water flows

how the birds fly with freedom

and the wind blows with pride

then look at me my love

know with all my heart

for as long as i live

all the words i speak

and all that i'll do in my life

my love, believe that i love you

and i'll keep loving you forever

until the stars stop shining

and the rivers run dry

and the birds stop flying

and the wind stops blowing.

My love, I adore you.

She still could not go to sleep. She remembered what the women were talking about at the market place. A neighboring village was attacked by the rebel troops. They were on a killing spree lately. There were too many men joining the rebel troops. Those who opted not to fight were killed and their wives, sisters, mothers and daughters taken as war trophies. Roaa lay on her mat begging for sleep to take over, but deep down hoping and praying she does not wake up to see the next day.

The rebel attacks were becoming more rampant. Roaa remembered when the tribes decided to put down the guns and discuss peace. For a short while, there had been some semblance of sanity. Children went to school safely without fear of being ambushed on the way. Women went to the bordering markets joyously without worry. People started businesses thanks to the stability. There was also talk of free and fair elections, democracy. The men started gathering, discussing politics and important matters of the state.

Roaa remembered her father and her eyes welled with tears. He was a tall, dear man. Strong and towering above many. He was a great advocate of peace. He had seen many years of war and now he was hopeful of peace. She also remembered the day he went for the peace talks. How happy and elated he had been that the villagers had chosen him to represent them in parliament. This was before the elections. He left home early, but never came back. No one really knows what happened. He was to be gone for a week, but it had been months since she last saw him. She knew he would not be coming back. The peace talks did not happen. The war was back and it was worse. Children were stolen. Girls; raped and married off. Sons were turned into soldiers and told to kill their families as a show of loyalty. Her village had managed to survive the war thus far, but how much longer.

Roaa knew that their peace was short lived and soon, her village would be next. She would not wait; could not wait. She rose and started packing a few things. She had to run away now. It was a risk she had to take. She took a knife. It would not do much to defend her against rebels should they attack. However, if need be, she would take her own life. It was the easy way out if the rebels cornered her. The clock struck midnight and she heard a scream from her neighbors hut. She froze with fear. It was too late to run away.