It’s yet another Sunday and the flock is gathered diligently in church to praise the most high. Not to sound atheist or anything but I’m of the school of thought that private sessions of prayer are more effective; I mean, Jesus often went to the mountain and even went to the desert alone. Pastors don’t get me wrong; I have nothing personal against your businesses.
Samantha is desperate, age is catching up and she cannot seem to get men to turn in her direction. What’s worse is the fact that the pressure from her parents and kin is getting to her and now she has resulted in praying and fasting for her miracle. The “mighty” man of God told her to plant a seed and reinforce it with the much-needed faith. It’s been five years of planting but no harvest and a casual talk from time to time between her and the “servant” of God reveals that it is her faith that keeps letting her down. She has visibly begun losing weight due to the fasting and it’s not helping in her cause.
Meanwhile, in the tiny little constituency of Tambala, election vibes are in the air. The aroma mostly attracts the common ‘mwananchi’ and yes you guessed it right; it’s all about the money. Mr. Kulasana is seeking reelection for the fourth time now. I remember the first time how he promised a better tomorrow for everyone; good roads, better healthcare, and all sorts of issues affecting the constituents. Sadly his days last longer than twenty-four hours. We are still waiting.
Unlike Samantha who is desperate, Mobutu found love. He claims his heart changed its beating pattern the moment he laid eyes on her. No wonder he has high blood pressure I guess. He sent me a message the other day saying they had ironed everything out after a huge misunderstanding. This was like the tenth time they were ironing things out and the latest felt like he was getting tired of ironing but turns out he loves it. She comes home after long weekends of vanishing claiming to have been at Granny’s. It’s actually sloppy that she forgot to block me from her Whatsapp status and I get to see how her Granny is rich enough to pay for her weekend vacations. What I am yet to understand is why this young man keeps accompanying her to all of them and keeps touching her inappropriately. I told Mobutu of the suspicious chap but he keeps telling me he is just a friend. “Wagombanao ndio wapendanao”, is his slogan.
Funny how at one point we failed to notice minor red flags cropping up in our jobs, our friendships or even our love life. We cling to the hope that this time things will change for the better. “This time is going to be different”, goes the phrase but does it really get better? Fear of change and rejection also plays a huge part in holding us back. We get comfortable and cannot picture a life without said person or thing. I’m not here to give you hope that it gets better. It doesn’t but what it does get is worse and it will take a huge amount of willpower and discipline to walk out of that room because it’s no longer where you belong.
Safaricom just texted me, I love how they call me dear. They charge me a huge amount of money for bundles that last long enough for me to text my crush “Hey”. She’s a vegetarian by the way. Pun intended. I promise myself to cut off their services but I find myself doing what we all do. All talk but no action. Off to buy safaricom bundles once again and text my crush ‘hey’ with many e’s this time. Hopefully we move past the blue ticking stage.