A hell of a dame, Sanaa, graced a previously calm room with her presence. Like the meaning of her name, she was a work of art, a beauty. The initial stroke was the allure of her simplicity. Natural hair worn like she did not care. A sumptuous, beauty queen, makeup free face that was apparently not only the hottest but the freshest as well in the room. The curves of her luscious lips were a perfection in themselves. As for the other curves, her as thick as a Peppermint crisp hips, she shook only the best way she knew how. With a mean runway walk, too, she was gifted.
Some of that, and the sweetness in the greeting of her eyes had all the boys looking on. They must have wondered how she managed to be that fine and comfortably live with herself. One boy in particular could not take it anymore. With the encouragement of a sky high thirst, he was motivated to get going. He went for her, on purpose. All he was looking was a good friend, and in her he was on a quest to find. There were not many to choose from. He had always believed that a soulmate was not always about love. That you could find one in a friendship too. His advances would be the start of one, a good friendship.
His eyes filled with passion as they danced adoringly over her. He was lost in admiration. Exhilaration was the catalyst for an inspiring experience, an exciting journey which would be like an ascent into the rapture of ardent pleasure. She, too, was mesmerized by the intensity of their encounter. Impressed by his confidence, they, in unison, explored each other’s emotions and sensations. A beautiful friendship that was in need quickly transformed into a beautiful friendship indeed.
But, as fate would have it, it did not last as he had wished. It was not long enough before their true colours started showing. He was, of course, still, and would forever remain attracted to her. His only desire was to please her but for reasons unknown to him, she did not stay long enough to know that he had come to love her. She did not want him to talk to her, no matter how much he tried to. He held back, lest it got her mad. She did not want to be a friend anymore. It had become so difficult for her. She loved her peace – whatever that was – and needed her space. She was no longer nice. No longer the amazing mrembo that he had set eyes on. Her beauty was only in her feminine blessings and not mirrored by her attitude. Her insecurities, capriciousness, and lack of condescendence were now in the air. They spoke of her immaturity and dearth of profoundness. On the discovery of her limitations, he gradually ceased liking her. Baring her soul was healing. Bearing her ego was piquing.
She had washed her hands of the line of the dust he had turned into. While she systematically spoilt it for the good ones by repeatedly unanswering him, he pondered why he never listened and took note when they warned him; “these Nairobians are attractive, but treacherous. Do not fall in love with them. They will two time you.”
Ongata Rongai, Kajiado.
Thursday, April 10, 2014.