The Daughter of my Father

African woman

I believe in God, the Father almighty, Creator of heaven and earth… He will come again to judge the living and the dead…

Frank peered through the crevices on the cracked walls, of the dusty neglected room where the middle aged woman declaimed the apostle’s creed in pious devotion. She was on her knees. Palms open as if asking for divinity or maybe, for a considerable amount of the Holy Spirit to help vent her hunger on a demon she disdained. Continue reading “The Daughter of my Father”

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Shedding The Tear of Loss

Gothic grave

We are in a funeral… I see someone I know. She is a friend of Mama’s. She is Rosaline. A devotee of the Holy Ghost faith. She is busy, busy washing utensils. I walk past her and smile. She smiles back…

I’m in a “matatu” ‘’a public service vehicle.’’ I’m dressed in a custom-made company shirt. It is white with blue cuffs protruding longer than my blue slim fit blazer’s.

I alight at bus station. To darkness. Blur and nothingness.

I’m back at the funeral. I don’t see my blazer anymore, but I can feel flip-flops under my feet.

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The Lust Hop, Love

digital-creation-3188336_640
Jim had just finished bathing when he grabbed his phone and sent reminder texts with engagement expectations.
“Hey beautiful”
“Guess what day it is”
There was no response but a delivery note to show for both messages sent. He switched to Whatsapp and continued,
“Saturday”
“Do you know what that means? Our picnic at Impala Park and sanctuary, I hope you have not forgotten .”
“I’ll pick you up in a few.’’
He dropped the phone on the dresser to trim his overgrown beard – his final touch of preparation for the first outdoor event he’d have with his new found love. He was an adventurous person and to dress to the reflection on the mirror – bracing his huge image with a dark face, overly grown side banks, a white polo shirt, blue shorts and espadrilles was no show off. It befit his usual casual style.

Continue reading “The Lust Hop, Love”