STORIES FROM MY HEART

When Kwesi comes to town Everything comes to a stop Nothing matters, no one matters Not even the wild Nairobi Fridays, or the weekly doze Of DJ Leo at the black diamond which gives me the ultimate high or the mad parties at Wanja's favorite tequila pub When Kwesi is town, I lose my diary, my watch and my planner I find my heart, and it beats…hard, fast, "Hello Chebet" "Guess who is in town?" He says with his slight Accra accent that gives me a tingle Excitement is hard to hide Even after years of being female and trained in the art of faking When Kwesi is in town, Everything is different Mysterious, Kwesi has a twinkle in his eye But I can never call him mine He knows, he sees, he smiles As he teases me with his travel stories He laughs, and flirts with the waiters In an ever so attractive way As we listen to jazz at the intercontinetal He loves the music here tonight And flirts with me about taking me back with him to Accra I laugh li...

My phone beeps. J: Hi Mo: How are you doing man? J: good. J: so? (I do not respond) J: Tuesday? I pause, Tuesday? Let me first put you in the picture. My name is Maureen, All my friends call me Mo, and I work as a program manager for a local NGO. I am beautiful, and if the attention I get from men is anything to go by, then I am very attractive. I am high maintance type of girl. I earn a decent salary, live in a posh neighborhood, drive a good car, in short, I live good life, God has been good ( I regret to call His name sometimes, later you will understand why.) I am lonely, and often times, alone. When in my house at night, I wonder who to call, talk to, laugh with, joke with, and no, not my women friends, I have plenty of those, but someone, a man who will smile when he sees my number calling, who will want to be with me, laugh with me, fight with me, I want a lover, a friend, a man, my man. Don’t get me wrong, I am not desperate. I have one, him, J. But he is not entirely mine you...