We met when she was only 12. She was the kind that you could not ignore. She had those eyes that were so huge yet so pretty. She was well-mannered and almost bowed when she was greeting you. When she spoke she talked of beautiful things and explained over and over that she loved flowers. That in this unkind world, flowers are the only things that still showed there was still good on this earth. In a way she reminded me of my younger self. I did not love flowers though and all I thought about was playing with the boys nobody talked to and climbing trees and laughing my ass off. I was happy and I knew how to hide my inner thoughts and feelings. Happiness came first. And I asked myself what had happened because nowadays things are so different for me. Sometimes I am angry, angry at myself for not being where I ought to be. Angry that I allowed myself to settle for less when I should be flying high in the sky. Angry that I am not as aggressive as I used to be. Angry that I let myself get trodden on by people. That I gave my all to friendships and relationships that were toxic. That I do not push myself beyond limit. Sometimes I am full of rage. Because maybe my kids or my husband did not do something I asked them to do, albeit simple and clear. Full of rage because this society does not have mercy and is always so judgmental. I am furious because the economy is shit and there is little I can do about it but just try and stay afloat. Sometimes I hate. Hatred so hot it would burn the devil. Do I like it when I feel hatred? No but I hate the way people treat me because I am a woman. And I hate it more when women are against women, as if we do not all go through the same trials in this world. Sometimes I am guilty. Guilty of buying chocolate and not sharing with my children because I deserve it. Guilty because I once murdered my grandma’s kitten and threw it in the pit latrine and pretended nothing happened. (hahaha, the serial killer in me is dormant nowadays) Sometimes I am fearful. I fear that I may die one day and leave my children alone. I fear that someone crazy may do bad things to my children (shindwe). I fear that my children may have worries about their bodies because they do not look like Vera Sidika or they are not beautiful enough according to societal SI Unit. I fear that I may not be able to give them the brightest of futures. Sometimes I am envious. Green with envy when I see someone doing well in life yet we had the same opportunities growing up. Envious when a child speaks better English than I do. I am just thankful that my envy is not negative; you remember what I did to that innocent kitten? I am human and I have learnt to accept myself as I come. I have learnt that it is okay to feel all the above provided they do not feel like an addiction. I also have good feelings such as love, empathy and sincerity. It’s a mix kind of, and mixed berries are sweeter than a single type of berry LIGHT Note: Conversation between my Second born and a lady Lady: heee, na umenona round? Second born: mimi? Lady: ehh, wewe
Second born: Wewe ndo mnono, mimi ni slayqueen.