When Death hit too close....

 He frantically knocked on my door asking for my husband. I did not like the intrusion but I stood to get my husband who had turned in early that day. My husband was reluctant to go but I urged him. I sensed something was horribly wrong and top of my list was that someone had tried to hurt his family by breaking their bedroom window which faced the road. Nothing prepared me for what came out of his mouth as soon as he saw my husband.

"Irush amekufa!" (translated as Irush is dead). My heart began to race and I held on to the baby I was carrying in my arms. I smiled because I am one of those people whose first reaction to any news is a smile or a laugh. I don't know what it is but that's the way I am wired. I could not move.

This was earth shattering news. It was a bad dream that I knew I would wake from.It was not.Irush had been shot and fatally injured to the head by terrorists. Sadly, he had succumbed and passed away. He was only thirty-one years old and the last born of three. A month prior to his death, he had just held his traditional wedding ceremony and was expecting a child .

The guy in question - "Irush"-was a cousin to my husband. No, we never called him that though.Over the course of their lives, he had grown to be a brother. They practically grew up together. I met him whilst I was dating my husband. We had a cordial relationship and I enjoyed his company whenever we met.

I will miss him this man. He was so full of life and he was funny. He lived his life intentionally. I will remember Irungu for his impeccable sense of neatness and cleanliness. He literally lived in a sterile environment. He had a permanent smile that never left his face. This man loved his family and even though his work took him away from them most of the times, he always made time whenever he could to meet with them. It was not uncommon for him to drop by a brother's workplace in the middle of the day just before he left for a certain police training. Sometimes, he would randomly meet you in town for a drink because those two hours were all he could spare at the time. I will remember him because he made my husband laugh. He made me laugh. I will remember him for his animated stories. His stories were very good. Irungu loved people and in so doing, he also served them joyfully.

The man loved his job and spoke very highly of it. He was a passionate officer of the laws. His work took him to many dangerous places in the country. These places were dangerous but he was well trained .

The news of his demise hit home hard. The pain was so hard and sharp. Most of the people who knew him felt angry that such a beautiful souls had been taken away from us so early.

Despite the sadness and the pain that surrounded his passing, there was an air of celebration. Don't get me wrong, not celebration of his death rather for the first time I witnessed the embodiment of celebrating a life well loved. My brother in law did live well. For the few years that he was allowed on this side of eternity, he lived. Really loved. Not only that but he made a conscious effort to capture memories as much as he could.

The days leading to his burial were indeed heavy but what stood out was the flow of photos that everyone had of him. We had so many memories and in almost 98% of all these pictures, he wore the most radiant smile on his face. Even the ones where he was clad in his full professional gear.

I remember him for living. Really living.I am personally reorganizing my own life so that I can go to the grave empty.

We are all in line to depart this side of eternity.One day, we will die but today, today we are alive. So we live -TODAY. We let go of that which does not bring us joy and peace. We ferociously follow that which brings us life.While we are at it, let's remember to document our life seasons. If not for us, then for those we will leave behind when we pass. The memories of us is all they will have of us.

That's it! Let's keep preaching peace and love in the world. Always remember to extend grace.

2ND TIME ROUND PART TWO....

 Thank you to all who take the time to read my articles. I am immensely grateful. I appreciate your feedback. Don't hesitate to let me know anything you would like me to share. I am open to writing your experiences if you are open to sharing your life experiences with the world. Let's interact on all my social media platforms too. Instagram-click here  Twitter- here      Facebook-here.

 

This is part two of my pregnancy series. You can recap here.

After a long agonizing wait for the ultrasound "doctor"/operator to show up, I was lying on the bed summoning all my prayerful ancestors to intercede on my behalf. I still don't know why the hospitals I have been to have a specific ultrasound guy and coincidentally he is never in the hospital until after numerous phone calls. This specific one was called Kevo. There is something about Kevos. I arrived at the hospital at about 1.00pm. Kevo finally casually showed up at 3.00pm.

 I took a minute to take in that high narrow bed in front of me.I had to take a deep breath when I had to climb up a step to get onto the bed. I finally made it and lay on my left side. It was a little less painful this way. Kevo looked at me and asked me to lie on my back. Oh please, as if this was my first ultrasound. I knew I had to lie on my back but I was not going to painfully chill as he prepared. I would turn when he was standing over me with the hovering pad and the cold gel. I let him know this of course.

When he was ready, he began doing his thing. I felt like my bladder would give in and let out. Kevo was pressing the hovering pad on my body at the exact point where the pain was the most. As I was trying to hold back tears, he was simultaneously trying to show me how my baby lay and what was causing the pain. I don't remember which part of his body was pressed on my stomach but my baby was lying funny. After an agonizing few minutes, Kevo was done. However, just before he concluded, I asked to know the gender of the baby. I had been praying for a girl you see. Kevo happily announced," Ni ndume huyu!" 

Those were his exact words. This was to be expected. My mother in law bore four sons. All my husband's uncles have more boy children than girls.By this I mean, an average of 2:1 in favor of the boys. Getting a girl was considered a miracle albeit a very happy one. My husband on the other hand was elated when I told him the news. He had secretly been scared of raising a girl although if you ask me, he would have been just a great a father to a girl as he is to our boys. With that news and a bagful of paracetamol tablets, I was dispatched. This time though I treated mama Safi and me to an uber ride. I was physically unable to walk all the way to the bus station.

The pain persisted for the next three days. After that, it went away just as swiftly as it has made its way into my life. I was glad it was gone. I did not wish that pain on anyone whether pregnant or not. I contemplated getting another ultrasound to check whether my baby had turned but ruled against it since I had elected to have a  C-section anyway.  As soon as I was able to walk on my own, I decided to go to Kasarani Maternity hospital to book a date for the surgery. This is the hospital I had chosen to deliver my baby in. As I walked the same route I had taken a few weeks earlier, many people were surprised to see me still pregnant. The brave ones subtly asked." Safari bado?" To which I replied, "Bado." Offering no details. After all, it was none of their business.

I met with the surgeon who would be handling my case. He took a look at my file and told me that I was a candidate for a C-Section delivery by default. This was because of how I was created. I was physically incapable of vaginal delivery. Something about my bone structure. I felt relieved. At least I had an answer to give anyone who felt like judging my decision to elect a C-Section delivery. Again, not that it was their business but there is a group of people who respect demands that you offer a satisfactory explanation for "dangerous and unnecessary decisions" you make. (People like parents for example). We set a date for 3rd August.

I was finally on my last leg of pregnancy. It was a good month. I felt good. I was no longer sick. I woke up early and in high spirits. Later, my friends would tell me that I looked pitifully tired. If I did, I did not feel that way. My baby had now increased his kicks to three or four times a day. I know this still sounds low but we were up from two times a day. He would kick at 12.00pm and at 3.30 am. Apparently, some babies just do not bother themselves with the exercise.

It was a relatively sunny Friday morning. I had dispatched my son to school. I was just lying on my sofa maybe browsing through my phone when I felt something wet ' down there '. I knew. In my heart of heart, I knew. It was time. Still, I googled. Uncle Google told me that sometimes the water broke many hours before the baby came or before the onset of labor pains-I was not in any pain-. So, I did not panic, I went to the loo and urinated just in case my bladder was under a lot of pressure. I came back to my sofa and there it was again. I did not consult google this time, instead, I made my own arrangements. 

I decided to eat a heavy meal as I awaited the dance of birth. This dance requires energy even though you are advised against eating. I had not yet had breakfast that morning and if I required surgery, I would not be able to eat for at least six to eight hours afterward. I went to the shop. My water was now dripping. I bought some eggs. I came back and made ugali- traditional veggies-eggs. Still, no pain. So, I ate. It was now noon. I had first felt the wetness at around 10.00am. I began to worry.

After my meal, I cleaned up, put on a fresh pad, picked up some stuff from my hospital bag just in case I was getting a baby that day. I called my husband to narrate my experience. Then I called my mum. She was concerned that I was in a matatu. Labor pains had not set in. I was fine. I went to the hospital and after explaining my situation I was admitted immediately. Not only was I admitted but I was booked for emergency C-Section that evening. Boy was I glad that I had packed my charger.  I sat on my bed awaiting the preparations. I had not experienced even the slightest iota of pain. It was like my baby was rewarding me for the agony he had put me through earlier. Also, I had been through a C-Section before. 

I called my husband to inform him that our baby was on his way. He is my best friend. I can count on him to be there when it matters. He is the only friend I can ask for help without feeling like he is the last resort. I wanted him present for the birth of our son. Unfortunately, he did not make it, thanks to Nairobi's traffic. Before you roll your eyes, our son had checked in seven days prior to my scheduled delivery date. This meant that the husband was at work. He missed the delivery by a few minutes. He came just as I was being wheeled to the recovery room.

I was in upbeat spirits even as I changed into my pink hospital gown and the saline water was injected into my body. My hospital mate was a sixth-time mum who was terrified to the death of the procedure. All her five previous births had been smooth vaginal births. This was her first surgery. I kept reassuring her that it would be okay. Since I was my own birth partner, I prayed that all would be well as I walked to the theater. Everyone was ready for me. I climbed onto the bed and assumed a relaxed yoga pause. I had asked for full-body anesthesia which the surgeon declined. So I curled as they inserted the anesthetic that would numb half of my body into my spinal disc. Then I lay down and positioned my arms like Jesus on the cross. What a position to assume since, on that table, you are literally birthing new life just as Jesus did. The anesthetist dared me to lift my leg as a check to see if the anesthetic had taken effect. I could not. My vitals were marked, after which the surgeon explained the procedure and began his work on me. I chatted with the anesthetist as the doctor worked around introducing my baby into my world. 

I heard him cry.

The nurse in-charge brought him around to my face and I confirmed it was a boy. (I had still been holding out hope that maybe the ultrasound had been wrong). I also immediately noticed that he was a spitting image of my father-in-law. As the surgeon worked to stitch me up, the nurse announced that my son was 2.9kgs. I had expected bigger. I am secretly afraid of extremely tiny babies. Oh, but my son had been determined to teach me new things from the very beginning. I was then wheeled to recovery and my sleeping baby handed to me. 

When my husband held his son in his arms for the first time, he had on his "This is nice" smile. It was a precious moment. I had dreamed about this moment for a long time.

I thanked God for safe surgery. Many mothers lie on that bed and never hear their baby cry. Many husbands/ fathers/ boyfriends sit outside the theater and do not take their loved ones to the recovery room. I was blessed and favored. Many women lie on that bed to remove dead embryos from their womb. My heart goes out to you. may God remember you. May God give you laughter for your tears. May God restore.

I was so happy my best friend was with me. Many women go through this process completely alone. I am sorry.

The gift of a baby is special. It is not an exaggeration. I feel so sad for the mothers who do not have this love. I pray that you seek help so that this gift is not a symbol of pain but one of hope.

My son was born at 6.30 pm on 26th July weighing 2.9kg. I stayed awake till 4.00 am, then " kulea" began. " Kuzaa sio Kazi", Kazi ni kulea.( the real task is not in delivery but in raising  the child.)

 

THE 2ND TIME AROUND

 This is  a short series on my pregnancy journey the 2nd time around. I will work on the first one soon. Thank you for all your support so far.

I am blessed to be a mother of two handsome boys. My recent pregnancy was so special. I was carrying a baby made from love. The father of my baby was the love of my life. However, my body sometimes put aside the mooshiness associated with this pregnancy and collaborated with hormones to make me feel miserable.

This pregnancy was different from the first in so many ways. We will just delve into the physical realities that I experienced during this pregnancy. Perhaps it's important to keep in mind that my first pregnancy had no complications at all. Except for the morning sickness associated with most pregnancies during the first trimester, it was a relatively smooth journey. I naively thought that this was because I had a "good" body for pregnancy.My son had other plans for me. 

A few weeks after my wedding, I began to feel very ill. A malaria test turned negative. By the special grace of God, I never fall ill. I get occasional headaches when I overwork my body but I generally do not fall ill. So the extreme fatigue and high fever I was experiencing threw me off. I became very concerned. Due to my history with illness, I was a little scared I am a full time stay at home mother. If I was seriously ill, I would be unable to take care of my family. 

My husband was working very hard at is job. He had to be away for many hours so I had to find the strength within me to make life work. After home remedies failed, I went to a doctor. No sooner had I finished describing my symptoms than he suggested a pregnancy test. I was cautiously optimistic about the outcome of this text. This is because many tests before had been negative. I did not want to take a test and be let down again. Still, I needed to get better so I took the test. After three minutes, the results were out. I was pregnant. The doctor then primitively inserted gloved fingers in me to ascertain how far along I was. I was around 8 weeks pregnant. 

I was too excited to plan a romantic reveal for my husband. The man was so busy and I was too sick. I called him and broke the news. He spoke English. More English than I had ever had him speak.Amidst many words, he said,"That's nice." For many people, those are just two words but for my husband, these are the words that simplify the highest form of joy. He normally wears a big smile when he says these words and you can literally touch the joy he feels. In a nutshell, he was happy. I was happy too.

The fatigue and fever was to be a constant companion through my pregnancy. I was often by myself in the house because my son had not yet joined me. I would go for upto 3 days without eating because anything that went it swiftly came out. I was not hungry. I would sleep on the cold tiles of my house because my body was so hot. My husband tried very hard to make my life comfortable. I had to take long periods of rest so that my body could function to do even the most mundane tasks like going to the shop or taking a shower. The long periods of rest helped a lot.

My second trimester had good and bad days. On one of the better times, I was able to travel home and bring mys on to be with me. We got him enrolled to school. I now had to learn to be a mother to my 6 year old son while nursing this different pregnancy. By this time, I had learned to take long rests. 

My husband gave me the easiest time. He went along with whatever I was feeling. There were many days when I was unable to even cook for him. He brought us supper instead. On my part, I always garnered strength to wake up and make my son's breakfast and get him ready for school. 

The constant pain in different parts of my body all the time had me taking panadol tablets even twice a day. I could not stop. My husband was out there fighting for us to have all we needed in life so I had to hold forte at home. It was our rhythm. I took one day at a time and we managed.

The long journey to the Kenyatta University hospitals for pre natal clinics were the toughest. I had to go to Kenyatta University because I was entitled to free medical care seeing as I was a student there. The nurses took great care of me. They would later advice me on where to deliver my baby. A piece of counsel that I am forever grateful for. 

At about 8months,I began to develop sharp pains in my lower stomach. By the second day, I was unable to walk straight. The pain was excruciating. When I could not talk eit anymore, I called my 'mama Safi "to help me get to a hospital. I must have been in so much pain because people who saw me walking would later tell me that they thought I was in labour. They felt sorry for me because I was walking toward the stage to board a matatu. I was not worried about the baby coming because I still recognized labour pains and what I was feeling was not labour. I was going to the hospital to get a safe strong painkiller to use because my faithful panadol was not cooperating anymore.

After being shunned by a few matatus because they thought I was in labour, a kind City Hoppa conductor helped me to a City Hopper bus. We finally made it to my doctor. He listened to my symptoms and diahonized it as a breech baby position. 

Let me explain. At around the eighth month, the baby begins to turn in readiness for birth position. Some babies stop turning halfway through and end up lying horizontally. This is what causes the excruciating pain I was feeling. My baby had decided to take a rest mid his journey. The doctor advised me to seek a midwife to help turn the baby.This did not sit well with my mother in law, my mum and me. My mother in law is a nurse. She vehemently discouraged the procedure. I vetoed against. 

I decided to get an ultrasound first and decide afterwards. They put me in an ambulance because the clinic I went to had the ultrasound machine in a different branch. No, it didn't have the sirens. I sat at the front with the driver while my mama Safi sat on a bench at the back. It was the most uncomfortable ride of my life. I don't know how critically ill patients survive in there. 

The ultrasound ended up revealing two things. 

1. It was in a breech position

2.It was a boy

The other news was that there was nothing that was medically safe at that point that they could do. They could attempt to turn the baby but it was a delicate medical procedure and was not necessary at the point. The other option was for me to tough it up and hope that my baby would decide to complete his journey.

Did he turn?

Find out in my next article. 

2018

For following me through this journey:I am grateful. It feels Validating. So, thank you.

                     *FOUR*
When the Luo guy left me, I decided to chill out a while. I knew that breaking that union was probably for the best but I had never really been alone. Since I first boarded the relationship bandwagon, I had never really been completely single. I was in a relationship - left-complicated - relationship again. This was my cycle. This time however, I was coming out of a union I had lent over two years of my life. I needed to breathe a little. God had other plans for me.

In Eastlands, He was just getting out of a complication too. His relationship had lasted almost three years but had died an almost natural death. He has been left too:unceremoniously I might add. It was during our breathing time that we re united again.

At this point, basing on how far we have come, it may seem that I am rushing stuff. The truth is, this exactly how we ended up married.

Nine months after the Luo guy left me, we began to talk on Facebook. This time, He asked for my number by the second sentence. He did not watsapp, he called. Now you remember we had never had a real conversation in all our on and off interactions. However, when he called, we comfortably conversed for nineteen minutes straight. This made me elated. I had never spoken to any of my relationship mates on the phone for nearly that amount of time. I was excited.

We continued our conversations to watsapp. I looked forward to his calls. We chatted easily. Maybe it took growing up to get us through our awkward non conversational phase. I was ready to explore the world wherever it took us. I was ready to remain a friend in case he was in a relationship. I genuinely felt like he was my friend.

A week or so after our exchanges, he asked if he could come over. I said yes. I was scared to the bone. We had been so happy over the phone. I did not want a meeting to cancel it. Still, I wanted to see him in person. I wanted to explore us one more time. For the quick thinkers, I mean explore our relationship.

He made to my house at 10.00pm.I could see that he was exhausted. So, I fixed him dinner, we talked a little about his work and we called it a night. While he slept, I watched. I watched him sleep and I felt peace. I stayed awake the whole night wondering what awaited us in the future. He left for work at 5.00am.

He texted during the day to say that he wanted to settle down and he wanted o do it with me. He was not asking for a girlfriend. He was asking for a wife. I did some research and some soul searching and some prayer. When I got back to him, I said yes. He did many things to make sure I stayed with him. And I am glad I did.

I spent a lot of time at his work. I followed him everywhere. In my defence, we had very little time to court. The man was ready to get a wife. He met my workmates who aprroved of my choice. Needless to say, He had transformed into a very confident, handsome man. He still gave me that piercing look that would make me freeze but this time it made me blush and feel like the sexiest woman on earth. Alejandro had nothing on him.

Less than six months after He made his intentions with me clear, He met my parents. We had our very simple traditional wedding /bride price negotiations. There was no going back. It is funny but soon after, both our sets of parents began to subtly and directly apply pressure on us to set a wedding date. We set one for 23rd of November, 2018.

The wedding plan period tested our friendship in ways we never thought possible. I like to confront issues while He would rather there be peace. These differences were amplified again and again. However, at the end of the day, He would always be the one I would lean on for strength.

One of the things I love most about Him is the fact that He gives me room to bloom at my own pace. I don't have to be anything to beloved by Him. I just need to be myself. I have learnt patience from him. I have learned to be more accommodating. I have made many new friends courtesy of my husband for the simple reason that he is a GOOD person.

We re-met and tied the knot in a span of one and a half years. It may sound cliche but it was meant to be. Our imperfections are what make us perfect for each other. Ironically, for us to effectively communicate now, we have to be physically speaking to one another.

We exchanged Swahili vows on 23rd November 2018. We know that we vowed to be together till death did us part but we did not understand majority of the Swahili vocabulary the pastor asked us to repeat after Him. We were just happy to have reached that specific part of our journey. I am blessed to have married the first and only man who gave me butterflies in my stomach as a little girl. The only man who thinks my sharp tongue is a funny trait.


* THE END... for real. *

We have reached the end. If you have any questions, do engage me on all my social media platforms. I will be glad to answer them. What's your love journey?

CONFUSION STAGE

Welcome to the third installment of the wedding series. I appreciate all of you who have read. A special thank you to The Jewels who have supported me since I began sharing my thoughts.Maybe one day I will tell you about The Jewels.

                                                             *THREE*
I made up my mind that He was neither the man I had nurtured in my head nor was he the man I wanted to be with.
This decision had two parts.

Part One:
During one of our Facebook or text messages conversations, things took a deep turn. This always happens when you extend boy girl conversations well into ungodly hours. Darkness always invites a certain kind of vibe. It was during this time that it accidentally slipped that HE was in a relationship. Not the one with Jesus or his mother. You remember the torch that I had kept lit for him all this time? Yes? It just went out. It hurt so bad. I dont know why I had expected him to be faithful to a primary school fling but...The thing about me, although I hate it; I prefer to be told things in plain black or white. i do not have the mechanism in me to read in between lines. My DNA omits that in installation.Now that I am older, just knowing that about myself makes navigating life a little easier.With the knowledge that that was the way I am wired came a certain kind of freedom. I am able to now unashamedly ask anyone to clarify what it is they are saying even though it may seem obvious to the rest of the people. I give it in black and white and so I expect to receive in black and white.
I digress.
In my naive Kakamega mind, he had committed a grave sin. Even though boys did not look my way, I still felt that I had wasted valuable time holding out hope that he too was waiting for the day we shall finally re unite. Nevertheless, I still listened to him as he tried hard to come back from the slip up. He was offering many sentences in the form of apologies.It was past mid-night and even though I am a night owl, I suddenly felt tired. The conversation suddenly became too boring and heading to nothingness. In the midst of both of us trying to recover, he from slipping up and I from the shock of being" Cheated on",somebody suggested that we meet physically.Hence, He coming to Kahawa Wendani.

Part two:
I met him at the stage near Magunas Supermarket. I do not like boys/ men younger than me. They exude some level of immaturity that I am unable to handle. I am a firstborn who was tasked with responsibility and expected to honor them at an early age. I blame my position with younger men on this. One of the things I particularly disliked about younger guys was their embracing of the  fashion trend that was skinny jeans. Guess what?!!!!!!#####!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah, you guessed  right alright. He showed up in a pair of skinny jeans. I could not turn back at that moment. I had to see this meeting through.
We exchanged an awkward hug. I still had not gotten a hung of this hugging men thing as a greeting but it was one of the things I had to learn if I was to successfully transition from a village girl to a town girl."dem wa uni". There was another factor that aided in my decision. My head HE was an Alehandro( i will only ever elaborate this at gunpoint) He. This one standing before me was so ordinary. I found it difficult to reconcile the two.
I am a terrific actor, so I bought him chapo Madondo at a cafe. I did not buy from the women with many sufurias selling different cereals. The perfection spirit had swiftly made a comeback as soon as I set my eyes on him. I feigned confidence as I pulled the remaining two hundred shilling note from my wallet. The food had cost me one hundred and sixty shillings. As I put my forty shillings back in my purse, I ticked fail in my head. He had failed the second test. He did not offer to pay for the food. Had he come all this way to eat my food. He could at least have offered to buy soda. He has never given me a good enough explanation for this unacceptable behavior to date.  We walked the dusty Kahawa Wendani road and landed at my extremely humble abode. It was truly an abode as it consisted of my bed, a table and my suitcases. One on the bed and the other under the bed. Even as I offered him a bed, I regretted ever agreeing to meet him at my place. I felt so embarrassed that my ears became hot. I served him and we ate in silence. I had to stop eating because even my eating was not perfect enough. He has this piercing gaze that made it impossible to do anything without feeling like he was watching my every move. The last thing I wanted was to make a fool of myself in front of him. Our talking problem reared its head higher than ever that afternoon. Oh, it was the most awkward meeting I have ever had with anyone. When I could not take it anymore, I made up an excuse about a group discussion I had nearby. I needed to tell my friend about the encounter. I walked him a few meters to the road. No sooner had he left my sight than I blocked him on my phone and on social media.

As I negotiated a corner toward my friends house, I knew that I would never see him nor talk to him again. Things took an interesting turn for the village girl. I found myself a bad guy who taught me unhelpful things like skipping class to just sit in a campus room and walk the walk of shame severally. I one day walked this walk pregnant.I left him. I found myself a smooth talking Luo guy who was smitten by me. I left him too. I then reconnected with my Luo guy. We tried. He left me.
Between my escapades with these men, HE was always in the picture.I would block and unblock him but he was always there.When the skipping class guy got me pregnant, I got even more confused. I could not believe I had lost my virginity in campus and in a campus room. I could not bear to be me. I wished I could run away and leave myself. I had never let myself down to that level. I felt I had lost something precious.I was a mess.

I thought about suicide but did not like my options. I had settled for poison but did not know how to go buy it without being asked so many questions. I am a good actor but a bad liar when asked straight questions. I did not want to mutilate myself because the pain would be too much for me to bear. I did think of a jiko but where would I get one. Besides, I was not good at lighting jikos. Also, I did not want to end  up in hell. I shelved the suicide idea. I settled for an  abortion. I did research which is amazingly readily available. I met nurses in reputable hospitals who were willing to help me. Their only concern was that I would be able to rest because of the heavy bleeding after the operation. I had everything ready. I gathered money fro various sources including the seed planter , bought many pads and cotton wool and waited for morning. At midnight, my friend called me and spent the better part of the night talking me out of the abortion. She promised to walk with me through the whole process which she did. She took great care of me like I was her daughter.(This is for another day.)

The next morning, I left for school. I was constantly in thoughts of awaited me in the future. Death seemed like a peaceful option but I could not find a reason to convince myself to go through with it. HE and I were in a season of unblocking so we were back to chatting. I typed," I am Pregnant." He typed," I love you." I blocked him. Those were the very words that had put me in the predicament I was in. I did not need them. I could not handle them. He later explained that it was a desperate attempt to keep me since he thought I was only telling him that to push him away. I dont know hwy he thought because I rarely tell straight lies. Most of the lies I tell are of omission. When I talk, I tell it and I tell it in plain black and white.

That block was the longest one. It was during this time that I met Luo guy for a take two. I would later learn that he also met his person. When Luo guy left me, I was a free bird. I had decided to try and be single for  a while.I was just figuring out my life. My son was four years old at the time. I had just enrolled for masters. I had unblocked most people I had blocked in my younger years. He had made the cut. I could not bring myself to talk to him and explain that the block had been made out of pain this time and had nothing to do with him.

Then, what would be the beginning of a series of miracles happened.

* to be continued..... 

TEMPORARY SEPARATION

Welcome to the second installment. I really appreciate the feedback from the first installment.

               *TWO*

The end of primary school meant the beginning of a new season in my life. I call it upper adolescence. The changes in the body really begin to take shape. With the changes come the emotions. It's a confusing time because it's the time when one needs the most love yet rejects it the most. It's like a child being forced to fit in a big body and expected to act like their body yet has no capacity to do so. Adults around me would sometimes tease me about how my perky my breasts were. (This is just wrong) . What they did not realize was that the little uncalled for teases would mount up to low self esteem and body hate. This would last until I was well into my adult life.

One of the things that helped me cope with my confusing situation was the hope that I would re-unite with him. I still held out hope despite the farewell letter. At the back of my mind, I knew that there was somebody who cared for me regardless of what form my body took.

We tried to communicate via phone. I did not own one so I had to use my mother's. He could not text me because my mother would have found these messages. He had to call. As aforementioned, we were not good at talking to each other. Something happened when we heard the other person's voice. I for one began to tremble and words simply refused to leave my lips. Our telephone communication did not go well and when I joined high school, it stopped.

Despite having no communication, I held out hope that we would one day meet and pick up from where we left off. He was constantly on my mind. This hope helped a little bit when none of the cute guys during school outings paid any attention to me. I lived in a fantasy where my prince charming also spent his time wondering about whatever happened to his sharp tongue princess. I was struggling with my studies(too many subjects). I had to go through this struggle 'on my own'.He was not there to help me in the areas that were difficult. Still, sometimes I made an effort just because I imagined that wherever he was, he too was making an effort. I conjured images of him as a man in my head. I didn't mind when my classmates received letters from boys because I was so sure that he was waiting for me. He would be on the other side of what I considered a temporary separation.

One day, a girl in a lower class came to me and asked if I knew him. My defences went up. This time it was not because of competition rather because of fear. My all girls high school was a strictly no boys zone. If the administration even heard a rumor that one of us as much as looked at a boy, the girl in question was in hot soup seasoned with the strongest pepper available. I had enough problems as it were. I could not afford to add "boys" to my list. Still, I cautiously gave the girl who would later turned out to be his family friend audience. It was a short message. "he says HI".

The effort to reach me dwarfed the brevity of the message. Once again, I felt special and honored. He did not contact me again through my high school.

I completed high school without pomp and quickly joined campus a few months after my final exams. I carried the ever lighting torch for him to campus.

 Campus was different from anything I had ever experienced. There was freedom.
Armed with my huge baggage of body image and self esteem issues, I began the next phase of my life. One that would ultimately shape the rest of it. There was so much to learn. One of them was Facebook.

It would be on Facebook that we reconnected. Since we were typing, it was a lot easier to communicate. We would catch up as friends but never once actually spoke to one another. What both of us did not realize was that, while we were on our "temporary separation", we had evolved into different people. We had shared different experiences and developed different outlooks on life.

I was at the University in Nairobi. I would finish school and get a good job. I had lived with my imaginary him that I actually believed in my heart that he looked like that. In my quest to transform from a village girl to a city one, I began to live my life against what I saw with my classmates and what I saw in the movies. I wanted an "Alejandro" handsome man with cars, on ewho would instantlysee me and take me to the movies and buy me nice jewelery and clothes. Oh, I cringe when I think of that time in my life.

We planned to physically meet. I am not sure how. He came to Kahawa which is where I lived. I took  one llok at him and made up my mind.

*... To be continued....

THE GENESIS

Prologue
This is a series based on the journey leading to my wedding and after. I learned many things. I also experienced a lot that made me grow up fast. I hope that as you read through the following pieces, you will learn a few things too. While I appreciate that all of our scenarios in life are different, we all learn from the experiences of those around us. In order for growth to be achieved, it is important to be open to learning. During the period of my wedding, I felt pushed and tested but I also picked up lessons. Some useful-some not so much.
 
EPISODE 1

               
                 **THE GENESIS**

I had a long, difficult adolescent period. My body was undergoing so many changes that I didn't know how to handle. I had read about these changes in class but all who told me about them skipped the part where they were to tell me how to handle all these changes. My mother tried, she told me to stay clean, to wear a brallete for my breast and to buy a Deodorant for the sweat. We never got to the part that tackled my ever increasing attraction toward members of the opposite sex. I don't know who told me but I always knew that it was prudent to wait to have sex after marriage. That was about all the sex education I received. I would later learn that sex with "boys" would get me pregnant.

Armed with my meager knowledge about what awaited me, I stepped into my adolescent life. I was eleven years old when I noticed my breasts sprouting. I was the only one in my class who was undergoing these changes so I did the best I could to hide them. I wore my heavy red jacket through the day and only took it off when I got home. I only got comfortable walking without my jacket when a few other girls sprouted breasts and they didn't water jackets. That made me feel safe and only then did I believe that I was okay.

 I sailed through the next couple of classes going through the motions. I didn't know I could talk to someone about what I felt. I learned to go through my problems until they fizzled out or I found a way out. This is a skill I carried with me through my adulthood. I began to dress differently so that I could catch the attention of the older boys around me. For some reason, I did not fancy the boys in my class. They seemed so childish. My confusion coupled with my need to be perfect led me to set up some defences of my own in order to cope. I increasingly became isolated and developed a sharp tongue which made people think twice before they interacted with me. I moved my desk to the back of the class and stayed without a desk mate through my class six and part of class seven as it was known then.

He walked into my class and my heart literally skipped a beat. And after that it began to beat fast and would not slow down. Since I was the only one without a desk mate, he was assigned to be my desk mate. I noticed on the spot that he was a little older than my classmates and I felt so excited. In his presence, I felt the need to be perfect. In his presence, I felt like the quality of air was different. I have never known how but I learned so much about him in a very short while. The reason why I did not know how I had all that information about him is because he and I rarely spoke to each other. We communicated almost telepathically.

He had a certain inexplicable effect on me even at that age. I loved it but I didn't know how to handle it. I needed to be and feel perfect under his gaze. Despite my sprouting breasts being a source of embrassment at the beginning of my adolescence, they were now a source of pride. This is because in my eyes, he was an older boy who would appreciate my "becoming into a woman". I was now eager to try out bras because I had someone to show my body off to. I could not wait to take my sweater off so that he could see that I was not such a small girl.

I took it upon myself to watch over him and take care of him. I told myself that one day I would marry him. We found a way to mutually help one another in our studies. I was poor in science while he was poor in English. We found a way to help each other out. Without words, there was a certain push between us that made us want to make it on behalf of the other. We were a team and both of us worked hard for the team. Needless to say, we both passed our final exams.

There are moments that still stand out in my life to this day. Moments where he made me feel so special. He made me feel I mattered.

The first was where he wrote me a short note asking if we could be together. He first apologized and then proceeded to state his case. This gesture melted my heart. It was the first letter I had received from a boy any age.

Secondly, he was careful to apologize incase he had offended me. In hindsight, I think he wrote that because he knew how explosive I could be. Still, it was sweet. Of course, I replied in the affirmative. I had to get boy letter writing skills from my friend but I sent one back.

The second was a lyric newspaper cut out. Mmmmh, those lines were deep.

The third was a success card for my KCPE exams. The only other people who had sent me a card that size were my parents. It was around this period that a certain girl who was my namesake and a class lower than me presented herself as my competitor. She flaunted a small success card she had sealed and addressed to him on my face for so many days before informing me that she had sent it. For the first time since my interaction with him, I felt a tad jealous.

However, what he did is and will forever be etched in mind. It is the most special thing a man has ever done to me even though technically at the time he was a boy.
He sent me a second card that same evening that the small girl had sent hers. This was to reassure me that we were good.

We sat our final exam. He sent me what was to be the last letter he would ever write me. In it, he was basically asking me to prepare for our separation because he was not sure we were ever going to see each other again. I cried my heart out but there was little I could change. I was to later meet him when I was in second year in campus.
       
                **. - End of part one-  **