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There is something sweeter in black and white
I want to experience this sweet thing in black and white
It can’t be the same sweet in black and black
It can’t be something similar in white and white
There is something more in black and white
There is happiness in black and white
I want to taste black and WhiteI’m not say I don’t like black and black
I mean there is sweetness in white and white
But there is something sweeter in Black and white
I’m seated here wondering whether I should go back or not. It was long time ago when you caused numbness to my soul. I knew I would never get out of it. But I did. Then something happens and I’m reminded of what happened that day. How you broke me.
Why now? I had trained my heart to believe I healed. My wounds are reopened just when I was about make a step. Is there something I must face before making this step? Why should I answer questions I failed to answer when my heart was bleeding? Why now.
I mean years have passed and I was ready to forget but memories brings back you. That day we were four of us. It could have been three of you when I hadn’t join you for that walk. That fateful evening it felt awkward between the two of us because she came between us. And now it is only me.
I don’t always like expressing my worst moments but here I am telling it in this space. When I lost you, I lost a part of me as well. I have never been the same as I used to before we end it all. Wait, did we even end it? You didn’t tell it to my face and I never asked questions either.
Memories of us from how we met and to our beautiful plans have been blurred and the only fresh memory I have of you is when you chose her over me. I can still see the pictures of how you treated her and how you ignored me. Well I can’t blame my memory for being choosy because this the only memory that kept me going when you were long gone.
You chose her and now memories is choosing you by bringing you back. I’m still wondering how I’m going to go back to the same place that stole a part of me. I’m I going to find my half part or I’m going to lose my only part left trying to find my lost part.
One thing is clear though I have to go back and find a part of me where I left it. And as they say, it’s better to lose yourself trying to find a part of you than not trying at all because you can’t live without a part of you. I’m going to find my part because memories brings it back in my life.
Wait, are you a part of me? Memories brings you back.
When I’m no longer comfortable around you…. there are thing you said about me and you think I don’t know.
When I go silent on you … then you don’t respect me
When I cut you off …. I no longer want to tolerate your drama
When you think I changed… it is your perception of me that changed
I haven’t always changed. Check yourself, you know What you did.
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Age make us kinder and wiser. Must fall down many times to appreciate life.
Young men dream and old men wish….
I knew a boy once.
He knew the dance of desire and laughter.
Time was free and unlimited.
A fine lad he was.
He didn’t know failure.
Failure was for the weak.
Everyone who tried to stop him.
Their fear and hate made him stronger.
The boy told the world.
“Don’t love too hard. Love will turn your world upside down.
Woman are like sweet wine. So sweet to the taste and
will create so much hurt and suffering.”
The dreams turn to goals,
everything was easy.
He had everything he wanted.
He never allowed a woman to touch his heart and soul.
He dances on lies and create bridges that could not be crossed.
One…
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He’s still hurting.
Days have passed,
Months have passed,
And now, now a year has passed.
He is still hurting.
I don’t know how hard it hit him.
It must have been pretty hurting.
Like a rocket maybe,
Leaving a hole behind.
I tried to fill that void.
I didn’t know it was pretty that big.
I tried again and again.
And I failed.
He is still hurting.
I don’t know how he feels.
I only know he’s hurting.
I know one day I’ll feel that feeling.
When it hit me hard.
I swear I didn’t know it was that hurting,
that it had hit hard,
But I tried filling it.
I know you are still hurting.
When you have a friend and they were hurting at some point. And several months later when you thought they had healed, they are still hurting, Yes. I’m trying to picture that here. Feel free to leave a Comment below if you can resonate with this.
I remember when I was in high school how I loved matatus. How I would board matatus from school and how I started loving absolutely everything in matatu from passengers to drivers to touts. I loved everything… For more go to A day in the life Lucia.
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Till next Tuesday.
It hurts. she said tears welling up her eyes. Why is loving him hurts this much? She asked a question which for a moment I knew I couldn’t answer. Betty is my close friend and that is why she came to me with that pain. I wish I knew things would turn up this way, I wouldn’t have gone there let alone loving him to start with. My heart wanted him. And that moment I saw him I felt I was the least person he had expected to see there but I showed up anyway. I enrolled myself among friends he had expected to see somehow. I could see pain in her eyes and as much as I wanted to say something to her, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t because that wasn’t the right time.
Hey sweet bananas Lily is here but this time with a story not mentioning her name. I know I’ve always written stories about my lifestyle but today I’m headed to wards the edge letting Betty stay in this little corner. When I heard her story, I couldn’t help but let Betty in.
Me showing up there was a mistake and the moment he set his eyes on mine words were writing themselves on his face. Betty you shouldn’t have come, Don’t you see I don’t need you, and I’m just fine without you. Lily it took him time to actually walk to me and say ‘you came, thanks‘ with a forced smile. Betty cleared her throat and with a fit of a cough, she fitted her behind on the coach to open even deeper. Her throat was clouded with mist of anger, bitterness, jealousy and name it.
I desperately wanted to see him because it was now seven months since I last saw him and I felt it was right for me to go; and when I felt it was I he needed most at that time I couldn’t help but but enroll myself if not as a girlfriend then as a friend. Him losing his mother left him with a big gap and a shoulder to lean on, a warm hug is all he needed. But when I was finally there he wasn’t my Pat. Pat isn’t his real name.
Have you gone inside? (Pat ment if I had viewed the body) ,and that was the first, and the last ,and the short conversion we had before he excused himself to attend to something, I think it was having a bath.
I was all alone now and seated on a purple plastic chair, I recalled what happened the last time I visited. It was around July, that previous year when I visited him. One, I wanted to see Pat ailing mother and two,I needed Pat to clarify something to me. I had questions to ask because I felt I was currying the heavier part of the York, while him the lighter. Or maybe he wasn’t currying the York at all. I mean, I was in that love alone
When I was next to his place I threw him a text telling him I had arrived.
Where are you, a text from him rolled back ten minutes later. I was standing by a famous river known only by the community around. I knew their home was close by and there were tall planted trees showing up their tips announcing presence of a homestead_and it was his home. When he learnt I was that close, he specifically ordered me to stay put at that very place.
I stood there among the bushes for what seemed like an hour before a text from him rolled again and this time asking me if I could remember the place we had met earlier.
Well, I’m sharp at remembering places and even if by any chance I had forgotten, how could I forget where we first made love. How I was shy and _how I never really wanted us to but thoughts of us not getting such opportunity had crossed my mind because it was a long distance thing. How could I forget that place where I felt I was freely giving love and of course I couldn’t have forgotten a place _where I felt it was right to actually let myself feel. How could I forget the place _where I tried giving him what I couldn’t give any man. How could I?
He was different when I saw him, something seemed to have been eating him up, it wasn’t his sick mother, no ,it wasn’t her. It was me. He was thinking of how he could get rid of me, how he could say it was heading no where and that there was someone else in the frame.
I noticed he didn’t welcomed me like he first did, he never walked along with me either.He led the way and I followed slowly from behind, we said nothing and when we reached the door he swung it open , no hi no nothing. I was hurt but I swallowed my pride and felt my throat being bruised as it pass to settle inside my stomach. I fitted a cough to make me composed but still I wasn’t.
When we were finally seated I started by asking how his mother was doing, to why he wasn’t picking my calls to I love you and I miss you stuff, you know how lovers meeting after along time would act? Yes it was like that. For her mother, she had gone for a function within the neighborhood; an answer which seemed as an excuse so I couldn’t insist on seeing her. She was sick, remember. And about not picking my calls he gave me an answer which betrayed his eyes; it was cooked up, obviously. I cried when I felt things were not in place but he simply pulled excuse of being busy with house chores and when I offered to help he pushed me away
You know what he told me Lily! She wipes her tears then smoothened her hand on the hips. Pat said I shouldn’t care too much. He pushed me away from his life that day. He tried explaining with his actions but I couldn’t stomach the fact that I wasn’t the woman after his heart.
Can we take a brake for a year? He had asked after prolonged silence.
And it took me a double silence to say something, a NO.
No. I don’t want that I told him. Deep inside I knew a brake was a brake up sealed in an envelope such that you don’t know what is inside until you read it. I didn’t want that brake because I would look bad when I left at that time. That time he needed somebody badly, a shoulder to lean on. Yet another reason was I love commitment and if it was him, it was him and no one else, in bad and good times. I even thought he was testing my love for him.
Betty says even after suspecting he loved someone else she couldn’t take it in and instead believed Pat was deliberately pushing her away become of her sick mother. Don’t care too much, these words had entered Betty’s ears deafening her. She just wanted to be there for a man she loved. She wanted him to open up to her. But he pushed her away instead
What hurt even more Lily is when he told me to take care of my pregnancy in case I became pregnant, that he wasn’t himself, that he wasn’t ready to be a father and that he wasn’t sure If he’d gotten me pregnant. I wasn’t though. I was Lucky, Lily.
Betty was tearing up as she utter those words, one by one, and in sequence such that I could feel the intensity of her pain.
I was Lucky. She repeated it again this time with a pale smile.
And yesterday, yesterday when I saw how he looked at her, I confirmed my fears. He gave her that exact look I’ve always given him. It was her he loved. I felt a sharp pain tingling inside me. It was as if someone was slicing my intestines with a hot blade until it became numb. Yes, numb.
Pat noticed I was hurting somehow and got himself busy on his phone; he was probably playing a game, it appeared. We were four that evening, his best friend, this girl and so was I. I remember the only thing I could do was smile and a little of soft humming. So I kept on smiling and pretended to be okay. It hurts to love someone who love someone else and that feeling I can’t explain.
She couldn’t explain. She was hurting.
Betty turned herself facing the other side such that I could only see her back and a glimpse of her side face. She was hurting, she was tearing and she was breaking and she was everything you can think of.
I reached for her, hugged her from behind as she dragged her ragged breath irregularly, I whispered something into her ears and I was surprised she calmed softly. Deep down I was happy that boy of a man left because just as Betty I have tasted that feeling. That’s why I calmed her down with just a whisper.
And I know by now you are probably wondering what I whispered into her ears. Well, sweet bananas I simply told her ‘I can explain that feeling‘ .
Yes it feels like you are the only person who should be loved by him. It feels like you are the only one who should love him and it feels like no one can love that person but you. It haunts like you should beat that beauty of a girl he loves and if not, then the ground should open up, swallow you up. You simply can’t stomach watching him love someone else and then again in front of you.
And here come the juicy happy ending when months after the incidence with Pat, Betty found love and as if that isn’t enough, she got a ring on her finger. Engaged? Of course yes and the wedding is due next month and I was the fist guest to be invited according to Betty. I’m happy for her but what makes me even happier is that Pat left. If he hadn’t then who knows ,Betty could have been still holding onto him. And he would be holding onto some girl and the result wouldn’t be what it is now.
Betty finding love after enduring that toxic relationship with Pat is something that should motivate you to leave that relationship because you might just as well be in a relationship alone and you think your lover is in too. This is what pushed me in sharing this here, in my little corner. I want you to know that I was happy that he left. Betty my friend if you are reading this I want you to know that Lily was happy that he left. Pat, should you stumble upon this piece of Lily’s I want you to know that I was happy when you left.
Hey not you sweet bananas,
Don’t leave.
I want you to stay for more,
like How I met France.
But for now you can read how my heart got broken for the first time and there is someone else in the frame
And maybe you are here and you are wondering how to drive traffic into your blog. Worry not because jetpack is here just to do that on your behalf. Till next time.
He wanted what I wasn’t . By Ahonyi Lily.
I knew he wanted a brown beautiful girl for a wife.
He wanted a teacher.
He wanted a short, thick girl for a wife.
And there I was, not short, not thick.
I was dark and beautiful.
I was his girlfriend.
But I was a journalist.
He wanted what I wasn’t as a girlfriend.
I wasn’t his type.
And however how much I wanted to keep him for myself,
However how much I needed him to stay,
I couldn’t hang onto him.
He was hanging onto her.
Maybe chasing after his type.
I wasn’t his type.
Today I want to talk about it.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I would say. How my heart got broken for the first time is something I never wanted to share because that feeling was the worst feeling ever. And I didn’t know how to tell it so someone could feel what I felt. I don’t know why I want to talk about it now, I simply want to talk about it.
I was only 17, young, timid , naïve, and name it. I was in my last year in high school and I had to study extra harder, get those good grades and join campus, as people would say.
“Lilian, you’ll be sitting for an exam very soon focus on your studies,” my parents would say whenever they noticed I wasn’t as much serious with books as I used to before I knew love. I stopped waking up for morning studies during my holidays, I neglected house chores and my eating habits changed. The only thing I knew best was coil in my bed and deny my intestines its right. I faked sickness until I felt sick. My body started wasting away day after day and I started talking less until I wanted to talk to no one but me.
I remember that night like it was only yesterday. Everything stopped, smile disappeared from my face, my mouth a gap and a sharp pain sliced through my body as if a hot blade was cutting through my intestine numbing it till I felt nothing; my throat was heavy with some mist like mass which dried up quickly and every part that wasn’t hurting stopped yet the only part that was hurting didn’t. Yes, my heart continue beating even after I had read the message.
I never had a smart phone those days. I can recall having a small black phone with black dialing buttons. Now, when I was about to read the message I noticed something different with the envelope icon indicating a new message, instead of the everyday white envelope on the top right, It was white envelope of course but this time a red cracked line, zigzag like cut across it vertically. You know that crack which is always put on a love symbol to indicate heartbreak? Yes it was that same zigzag line and it came red on a white envelope. Well, at least it warned me the envelope was up to nothing amazing.
‘Lilian Elvis loves you and I’ve seen that in his eyes.’ Read the text.
He wrote a long paragraph. I can’t remember some lines, I can’t recall some words but that line was always in my head.
Elvis is the cousin of the man who broke my heart. Now, that man, let’s give him a name, Dan , there, yes Dan and the day I met him was my best date.
I was in this white Cinderella skirt with a black blouse which had hugged me giving me that shape I actually had. My blue sandals were simple with jeans lases , my hair was thick black and shinny and I was a little thicker compared to now. Eunice Father had passed on and that day they buried him, I met Dan.
I tagged along with my mother , Eunice is my friend and I had to be there for her. I occupied a seat and I can’t recall what happened and why I had to stand up from my seat but whatever it was I loved it because that was when I saw him. He was busy capturing the moment with this small camera and his laptop was folded in his other arm. I looked at him until I felt he actually saw me. I didn’t know how it felt to fall in love but, that day when I saw him I knew I had fallen for him. He triggered something , something that no man had ever triggered.
I just want to come clean here sweet bananas, I’m not sure he saw me, however I’m sure he saw me when I was standing with Eunice discussing something which I can’t think of now. He looked at us and then looked again and then he signaled Eunice and then he insisted I should tag along.
He started by asking Eunice how she some questions but my eyes were on Dan all that while as he talked to Eunice. I didn’t even noticed his cousin Elvis. Someone singled Eunice out and I felt I had to go back where my mum was waiting but Dan insisted I should keep them company for a little longer. He wanted to know more about the place from a native view. His eyes met mine and for a moment I didn’t want him to look away. His eyes were big and white and I thought he was all perfect.
His English was well spoken and he was talking faster that somewhere in between the conversation I would ask him to repeat what he said. It was sexy to me so I kept looking inside those eyes which were seemingly piercing through my heart reading some words only him could tell.
Dan was a third year student at Kenyatta university and Eunice’s Father was his uncle. He noticed I was a little uneasy around so he started by asking questions from what class I was in to what subjects I loved and to the ones I was weak at to the course I’d love to do in campus. When we were now comfortable he started opening up about his mother who was from that place and how he love the place and our conversion was cut short with the burial proceedings. We parted with the intended said words not said, like can I have your contact or can I see you again later.
Thoughts of him searching through me haunted me day and night till the day I met Eunice and when she told me Dan had left his number, and that I was to call him, I was glad. But I didn’t know what started from a single phone would broke me the way it did. Days later he called and sometimes I would call. Weeks and months passed we were fine and I met him again during the holiday. Then things changed.
There was silence and after silence It was I calling, at times he would pick but other times he would ignore my calls. And when I sent a text I would wait for days or maybe wait forever. That day I got a text from him, I was happy he actually texted me after all. I said to myself he loved me way too much to just ignore me. Little did I notice the weight that message had carried along , how it would completely shatter me, and how it would broke me.
That was the day I felt my world come to an end and that was the date I knew my tomorrow was not going to come.
Earlier, before Dan broke my heart Elvis came to my home church and when I saw him I was so happy because I wanted to ask about Dan. Where he was, how he was doing and whole lots he could tell me about him. When the gathering was over he tagged along up to my home as he tell me everything, how Dan never loved me, how he was seeing another college girl, how Dan said what and when. It was Dan this Dan that, I felt I was always in their conversation so I changed the topic, because I was hurting. I cooked him some fried fish and we went plucking vegetables in our garden. That was all, in my day with Elvis .
However, when he got to Dan he told him how I spent a night with him, how we kissed , how I cooked him food and other many lies I wasn’t told. I was told how he would boast I loved him and that again was being said in Dan’s presence. When Dan saw how Elvis loved me, when Dan realized he had to make Elvis happy, when Dan realized he had to let me concentrate on my studies, he sent that message without realizing how It would make me feel. I was shattered. Thoughts of loving someone else but not Dan broke me.
That night I coiled in a small corner of my bed and only my pillow could tell how much it had soaked. I cried and if at all I slept, then it was only for a few minutes. Or maybe I never slept at all. My eyes were swollen the following morning, and my face was somehow deformed. I wanted to be left alone and to tell you the truth, I thought I would die.
Several days I was still hurting, several weeks I was still hurting, yet several month I was still hurting, and for five years I was still hurting. In between the five years I tried to love but after a few weeks I couldn’t fake my feelings. I deleted his number from my phone but I had it on my head. I saved it again and deleted it again until I couldn’t delete it anymore because I wasn’t hurting anymore.
I don’t regret Dan broke my heart because it was him who did it, and I loved him. I mean I was hurt by the man I loved and as a result he made me know how it feels when you are in love; and should I feel that way again then it will be love.
And today, today my heart has been freed after talking and with hopes written on my sleeves that one day, or anytime soon, someone will walk into my space and change nothing. He will come and make me feel what I felt seven years ago for Dan. He will fill that void that has never been filled all these years. Today I talked about it.
What if this look is unique. What if this style is lily’s. And what if Lily just fit in sweetly. What if you don’t care how she came up with this because you are wrapped in this unexplained feeling the pandemic has brought along.
Sweet bananas Lily is not rude. She has been indoors for a weeks now and its like she has been here for ages and she missed dressing and just looking cool. Today she wanted to brake the boredom, she wanted something else as she smile to this painful reality the virus has brought not only to her but to people worldwide.
https://m.facebook.com/ahonyilily/
Lily love smiling to her problems.
And today, today when I had nothing to wear I managed to come up with something. Most of my clothing aren’t with me, I left then in town and now that I’m locked here, I had to turn to my old suitcase for a solution and look what I found, a pink siphon beach wear skirt with no top to wear.
And putting that to the edge, I got back my stunning look not by getting new ones, not by going to the market, and not by borrowing but by making my own through do it yourself stuff. I’ve learned a lot more since I started staying in which I’ll share with you in my next article.
Well, by simply turning my old black trouser into a top and pairing it with my rarely worn siphon beach wear skirt, I got it right. Didn’t I sweet bananas?
How I made the top;
Now with an old trouser and only a pair of scissor, hold the trouser by it’s waist folding into two such that the two sides form one side and use the scissors to cut the only little edge which is the meeting point of inner hips making it straight. Cut only a little edge or the neck area will be too large. Wear it such that the cut area fits your neck and the leg fit your arms and the two pockets fit your boobs. You can as well fold a little piece at the ends when it’s long enough. And that is it.You are done.You good to go, not just yet.
The result is a tight crop top with two pocket in front such that the pockets fit well the nipples area. I don’t need a bra to wear this, and this is something I’ll put up with after the isolation. I haven’t always loved wearing bras at home and when such a top can give me comfort and courage to do so in public, then why shouldn’t I embrace it to end with?
Now what if I fit in so well? What if I look lovely? I’m still not stepping out this fenced homestead. I’m still stopping within this small red gate. I’m still here, rooting, praying hoping and wishing that things should go back to normal soon.
Stay with me
Don’t step out the door,
Don’t step out this space.
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