Amenipa juju! Do you know Auntie Dote?
Ah, who would have thought that I would have to face these issues, today? After all these years of being decidedly single and unwilling to mingle that way. All these years of being the the third leg, who would have thought that the predominant thought in my my mind would so often be about a “she” or “her”?
Maajabu haya! Amenipa juju, huyu! Mimi mganga na yeye amenigangua! But perhaps I’d better begin at the starting – er… start at the beginning so that you follow what this tirade is all about.
When I saw her, it had been one of those days, kazi mingi, siasa mbaya and I was dog tired. I had just come from an eight hour flight straight into an eight hour day at the office without gracing my residence and I was bushed. I decided to pass by the supermarket near my office to buy the everyday things that I would need for dinner – gingernut crackers or something, milk or something just stuff to nibble on before i fell asleep.
Ah, yes, I also needed some batteries or something of the sort. the supermarket didn’t seem to have them so i decided to top by the customer service counter. Guess who’s there? Ya. She’s decked out in a white top under a crotcheted sweater that flows to mid-thigh and a maroon – well, it might have been burgandy or some other funny shade of red, ask her. I’m a guy – we have limited technicolor. Lime is light green, keep it simple.
Now the thing about it is that I knew her from a long time ago when we were kids. And those days, I would never have said one word to her. i would have walked over to that counter saw her and after opening my mouth like a fish a couple of times, ran away quickly into the loo to kick myself for having ran.
“I know you!” I exclaimed and it took her a moment – I now look like a middle aged Morgan Freeman, only a little bulgy in some places, no airport thank heavens – but she eventually placed me. “We went to school together, right?”
I don’t blame her. Those days I was a timid, lonely kid who was not part of the cool crowd that she was. I’d only watch from a far and drool. she was the debate queen, I was the dweeb. Well, yalopita si ndwele.
There was a short chat and I took her number, called her a number of times, then she moved on up jobwise, as one would expect. She was still sharp as a nimble fiddle and she went on to become a mkubwa in a local bank..
I called her out for a drink a number of times and she surprised me by coming. Everytime that happened was like opium, i wanted more. soon it became a fix that I needed to speak to her if only for a few minutes before I can function at my usual 110%.
Its not that I am not busy. It’s not that my jua kali business doesn’t need me. But I have even cancelled a flight somewhere because that was the day I could see her.
What is that? Love? I hesitate. It’s been too long for me, to say. I know this. I never have conversations with anyone else the way I do with her. I don’t feel the way I do when I’m with her with anyone else.
And so, this dishevelled kajamaa you are meeting here. Stroling aimlessly about town, listlessly selling to you the products of my jua kali business or absent mindedly typing away at my laptop, this hopeless looking dude is just in need of yet another fix. Then you’ll see me move.
What to do eh? There are all these power plays that one must go through. don’t say it too early you might scare her away; take it too slow and some faster dude will whisk her away and she’ll say to you, “Let’s just be friends.”
And that’s not to say that she can’t say that and that you can’t accept it. You have to. It’s all you can take. And yet you feel her complete you everytime you hear her speak. You feel her polish you everytime she gives you advice.
You know. She’s the one.
How do you tell her? Is she ready to hear it?
Aiiii!!!! Caramba!! Amenipa juju! Namtafuta mama mmoja anayeitwa Anti doti, naskia ana tiba. Je, wamjua unipige introdakshen?