Twin stuff

A hot Thursday it was. It usually is in Mombasa, but there is a season when the sun seems to descend more on our city making us sweaty. It was lunch time, Two hours were enough to leave the volunteers in the computer hub while I rush to 'Books First' to have a lunch. It was just two kilometers away, on the Nakumatt Nyali complex building.

On Entering, I was surprised to see Nuru on the middle table reading a menu. She was one of the volunteers at Skomara computer hub who I was secretly involved with romantically. She text-ed earlier telling me she had a cold and headache and would not be able to show up. Maybe she had planned to surprise me here because she knew I liked this place.

I went to her seat behind, held her shoulders gently and kissed her. She started up and her eyes were on me like a lioness who had seen an alien lion in their territory. As I was showing my confusion sandwiched in a smile, she slapped me hard. “Are you crazy?” she asked angrily. The slap upset me and before I could think I returned one harder than the girlish one she threw on me.

I'm not a fan of hitting ladies. But I believe if I behave as a gentleman, they should behave as ladies too. They talk about this so much on magazines and television, Men who hit women pictured as “Homo-erectus.” But it should be fair. If a man should not hit a woman, a woman should not hit a man too. Women do not have a license to slap men and get away with it just because they are women.

Four or five people came to our table to make sure the problem doesn't escalate. They asked whats wrong? Nuru said, This guy kissed me and I don't know him. “Really, today you don't know me Nuru?” I asked her. “Who is Nuru?, I'm not Nuru!” she replied. I nodded sarcastically then told her, maybe you are not here to meet me. You must be waiting for another guy you cheater! “Yes, I'm waiting for my friend. And its not you. Who are you crazy man?” she retorted.

I decided to retreat without more fuss and returned to Skomara without taking lunch. Some volunteers saw that I was down. Hilu and Machu-beybe and Jay came to ask me what was wrong but I told them its just the stress of schools that wanted computers without satisfying the requirements first.

After closing the doors of the hub late in the afternoon, I went straight to Buxton, Nuru's home, to ask what was going on? I was welcomed by her mum and Nuru introduced me as her teacher. She was on the couch watching “Vioja mahakamani” and I could see she really had cold. I told her about the lunch time incident and she seemed surprised too. At a point, when I believed she wasn't lying, I thought maybe she had schizophrenia. Later I floated the possibility that they looked alike.

After two days, I took Nuru to Books-First and asked the cashier about the girl who slapped me. The cashier was friendly, she knew I was a regular there. She said she didn't know, she also thought the girl was Nuru. But after I left, the girl was joined by a girl she knew to be a cashier at the Nakumatt. They were both here during lunch today too. I thought of going to ask the cashier girl at Nakumatt but changed heart. It might raise alarm.

The next day at noon we were here, at Books-First. We sat on the corner table to wait for the girl who looked like Nuru. Unfortunately she didn't show up. The next day was Sunday so we didn't come, But on Monday we saw her and her friend enter and took the middle table. We approached them, greeted then I apologized for what I had done four days ago. And I told her now she can understand why. Nuru looked at the girl sternly and the girl looked at her too. It must have been shocking to them too to see another resembling the person they see on their mirrors. The same beauty on their faces. The same slightly chubby cheeks I liked to peck. Just different hairstyles and clothes.

She didn't seem angry today. And when Nuru introduced herself to her, she said her name was Munira and she lives in Mtwapa. We got to tell more about each other. Munira owned a hair salon in Mtwapa. Even Munira's friend, Violet, thought they look astonishingly alike.

We left after paying the bill and headed straight to Buxton. After greetings, Munira asked her mother if she had a twin sister. Her mum asked why? And she said we met a girl who looked just like her. At that point, the dishes Nuru's mum was holding fell down. She started trembling and it seemed as if she was going to fall down when I went to hold her stand. I led her to the couch to sit and she began telling.

I gave birth to beautiful girl twins twenty years ago. I remember just as if it was yesterday. We had been discharged from Makadara hospital and decided to have a cup of tea in the cafe just outside the hospital before we returned home, We lived in King'orani back then. I was holding you, and there was a nice guy who offered to hold your sister while your father went to order breakfast because the counter was crowded. I was exhausted and the humming of the guy holding your sister was so soothing as he paced about our table. When your dad returned, he asked where the guy and the baby was and I seemed to have woken up from a nap. We didn't see him or the baby. We left our egg sandwiches and tea on the table to go round the hospital looking for the guy.

Two hours had passed and we hadn't seen any sign of him. Tears started falling on both your father's eyes and mine. We had already reported to the hospital administration. So we took a taxi, headed to Central police station to report it there too. They told us to check with them the next day. But after eight months of checking up with the police, we lost hope. We decided to raise you happily and love you without anything hindering us. We decided not to tell you. But it was eating us though it did not show in our laughter. When your dad was on her deathbed ten tears ago, she uttered your sister's name, Nina.

A heartfelt, movie like real story we had just got. We released our heavy breaths then Nuru's mum told us she wanted to see the girl. She told Nuru, if the girl you saw is really your sister, then she must have a brown mark under her left breast just as the one you have under your right.

I was early the next day picking up Nuru and her mum, seven thirty in the morning. And were heading to Mtwapa. We reached the salon early before it was opened and ten minutes to nine, we saw Munira with the keys. After greetings, she opened her salon and welcomed us inside. Nuru explained to Munira why her mum couldn't wait another day to see her. Nuru's mum asked Munira about her parents. She said she didn't know her father. Her mother told her that the father left and disappeared when she was just a year old. She was raised by her mum, she lived and schooled in Malindi. After secondary school, she decided to start her own hair salon in Malindi. It was just last year her friend Violet told her salon business is very good in Mtwapa. “It pays tenfold what I was getting in Malindi, that I decided to move my business here.” My mum is still in Malindi, I go to see her every Sunday.

Nuru's mum told Munira the hospital story. Told her about the mark under the breast and asked if she could check it. Munira said she has that mark, she can show them to confirm. At this point, Munira's mum turned her eyes on me. For some seconds I was confused, then I marched out after getting it. I wondered what the big deal was because I had seen Nuru's boobies. Five minutes later when I got in, I saw Munira in Nuru's mum's arms crying while holding each other.

An hour later, the four of us were crossing Kilifi bridge heading to Malindi. We reached there around lunch time. Munira's home was a rental house in Majengo, just outside Central primary school. We were welcomed by Munira's mum and Munira explained to her why we were here. She seemed agitated when she started to talk, then Munira finally found out the truth from her mum. “Please don't take me to police, some guy sold this beautiful baby to me and I bought her. I cannot bear children and I wanted to have a baby so badly.”

Nuru's mum did not settle for that explanation. She asked the woman if she knew what she had put her through all those years? She is the reason that Nina(Munira) did not see her real father. The woman continued crying. Both Munira and Nuru were quiet. They could not believe the turn of their life stories. They had a sister. In the end, Nuru's mum said she will forgive her. She said she was angry at her for the agony she has caused her and her husband for all those years, but also thankful that she took care of her baby. She was glad her baby was still alive. “I would have taken my baby now but they are all grown up and independent. They can live wherever they do their jobs, or even with their husbands when they get married. I just want you know that I'm the mother to both of you, and I havent stopped loving you my daughter. Nuru is your sister. And please come to visit me and have sleepovers often. Thanks to my Lord”

Luminous

There is something about Janet. The girl who is in Ratna square just for this April holiday.

She is Mghanga's wife's cousin, the village Dry cleaner. Came all the way from Mghange to spend the holiday in Mombasa. She smiles at me whenever she passes through our home, but says nothing. She was a short ebony skinned girl whose brown color on her two front teeth will be first to catch your attention. I must say the stain decorates her smile. Makes her look more pretty. But she came at a time when I had decided to chill. I had been through a lot in relationships for the past six years so this was my break.

I would have been confused if it were the naive olden high school days. But this was post college, I am much older and wiser now. I didn't have the rush, the urge to go after her. I knew she liked me, but she couldn't come forward to say it. This set back is not held dear by only a few. We were never taught to say “i love you” as African kids. We didn't tell our parents, brothers, sisters, even though we did. It's common in Europe and America, and with our African high class neighbors who try to raise their kids the western way.

It becomes hard during puberty and after to tell a girl you like that you do. There is fear, of exposure of your feelings. And it becomes embarrassing when what you extend is not reciprocated. That's why some would rather conceal it in their hearts to their graves, than nurse rejection afterwards. Men, at least most have evolved much through this. A point reaches when Eighty percent of them try out. Not because they don't fear the unknown. But suppose the lady accepts? We rationalize and provide space for a probability that the girl might be liking us too.

This happened to me some years ago. I did not tell Mwanatumu about my feelings for her. I guess I hoped that she would one day see it in my eyes, but she didn't. I persevered passionate knocks on my heart whenever I saw her and had friendly conversations with her until she got knocked up by a more witty guy. I used to ask myself if there was a tuition where men are taught to say the right things to ladies, or do something that guarantees to make those you adore fall for you. I watched her, and others that I liked won over by other men. Some got married and I got to carry and play with their kids as an uncle when they brought them.

With Janet, it was a case of an unwritten rule that a female may not be the first to tell a male that she loved him. I have had a number of girl friends (two different words), say they would never say those words to a man even if it burns them inside. Double standards. I think ladies should come out of that age old cocoon, its the twenty first century!

Since I had no hots for her, I took this as a challenge. I wanted to see how much she will go, and observe the fire in her eyes as she aches. My mission was to make her say it first. “I love you Dinho” would be my gold medal. So after three days I called her out and we sat on the garden outside our house. Whats your name cutey? “Janet Righa.” she replied facing down. What do you do? “I'm on my final year in Bura teachers training college.” I asked her more questions to give her strength of being comfortable with me. And I told her she was beautiful. And she was, Dawida(Taita) girls from the hills area have this exotic beauty that takes a man less than a minute to fall for them.

My friends came to tell me that she has been asking more about me. I hid my smile. No one was to know what I was up to. After three days she sent me a dozen queen cakes. I made sure I complimented her each time we met. She seemed to enjoy my jokes, even the ones that were not so funny. On one evening she asked me if I had a girlfriend. I answered No. then she asked what kind of girls I liked? I said I look at a girls face first. If its appealing, then I check out her structure. I like them short, but not so much short. And I like them ebony just like you. She smiled to this. She said she liked fair colored guys. Strongly built, funny, and she stressed that she likes them from town. She continued saying if she got one, she would be faithful to him. She would go back to finish her course and return to him. She said she is a very honest girl, hardworking and loving. I stared at her as she was giving me her personal cv while smiling pitifully inside. I knew she was expecting my move at some point, but she only got the “interested smile” from me.

Days passed and she showed how fond she was of me. I introduced her to my family, something she was happy about. But as days canceled on the calendar, she appeared to be uneasy and less happy. Just ten days remaining to go back to Taita, and she had not gotten her man yet.

On her last Saturday holiday, I took her to Mombasa beach in the morning. I liked this beach. It has been in my veins since childhood. I may take girls to expensive restaurants on dates but if I haven't taken you to Mombasa beach, your claws haven't clutched my heart yet. This is not to say its the most popular or best beach in the world. There are all sort of snacks at Pirates beach. From ice creams to “kachiri.” to groundnuts. There is even Loud music playing in some of the beach clubs. And most people love populated fun areas because they bump into friends or make new ones there. Today was cool out here. No gigantic waves, and the tide was low. We stationed ourselves not far from the hotels because I had a horrifying incident three years ago on this same beach. But I still loved it.

Janet asked me if I would go visit her at her college while we sat on the sand at a beautiful corner spot. I said Maybe, I might surprise you. I had a feeling she was staring at me while I was not facing her. She came closer to me and said she feels a little bit cold. I held her dearly as a very caring friend. I began stroking her rasta plaited hair backwards and she seemed to like it. She murmured something then ccoughed. I asked her what is it and she said Nothing. I looked at her face and she seemed troubled by something. I told her she could talk to me. “you can say anything to me Janet, I might help.” I comforted her. “I want to have a picture of you when I leave next week.” she asked. I knew she wanted more than a picture but this was like a consolation request. “Sure, I will give you one.” I told her. And I continued enjoyed experiencing the bomb that was building up in her.

I wasn't gonna say the magic words to her. Here, I was representing all men who are against this double standard. If she wont say it, she will have to return to Taita with it. It will be her mind asking and answering herself the questions and confusions. And I will be congratulating myself for staying true to my game. I must give her credit for one thing though, smart mind. She looked at my lips and said she had not kissed a man before and would like me to show her. Obviously this was a trick. There was laughing in my brain, but I decided to grant her this request. I took her upper lips gently in mine and moistened them and tasted them. She had soft lips, sweet. And she kissed me back. She didn't seem an amateur though not a kissing guru too. Her emotions seemed to overpower her and she pressed herself more on me while she kissed hungrily. When I paused, she laid her head on my chest and her arms were around me holding tight. I could feel her body in mild tremors, then she finally said it. I love you. She was burying her head on my chest. I felt my name was Victory. I held her out and looked straight into her eyes and kissed her again. But carefully, not to reply “I love you too” lest I be branded a liar when I come up with a swift exit plan from this. Our hearts were not in the same place, so disappointment was inevitable. After all our lives were distance apart and I was not really into this. It would be better for all of us.