Hold up…hold up..hold up…

Do not kill the messenger before you get to read the message. The title is from a lengthy explanation given here by one Michael Ngigi. The kind of cheating described here is not one all the non loyal “jembes” and “mbwa kokos” might have in mind. It is a very artistic description of how to be true to oneself, your goals, your dreams etc. In real sense, it describes how to never let go of the person you were when someone else fell in love with you.

Last night I was at Arfa lounge. For the Kwani? Open Mic July 2014 edition. This was roughly 3 or 4 years since the last time I was at one. Like seriously, it had been so long I actually first went to the now non-existent Club Soundd where the show used to be before. The guard was almost hysterically laughing at the idea that I actually live in Nairobi. I did not dare correct him and tell him 87 is not Nairobi and I actually do see the “Kwaheri Nairobi” notice every evening as I head home.

That aside, I had to call one Ngarrrtia, he who possesses the shiniest of trophies according to Sanaa ladies. I wouldn’t know. He was able to give me the info I needed and 3 minutes later I was at the Arfa lounge entrance. Now 3 years makes quite a huge difference in Kenya or any other country for that matter. I used to pay 100 to get into Club Soundd before and now the charge is at 400 Kenya shillings. But I was here, I was ready to get back in the game. I was ready to cheat. Even if just on my multiple personalities.

See the background to this story is. I always loved poetry and have never really been afraid of standing and presenting in front of people. Since I was a kid. Yes, I do have stage fright just like any other person but I have too much of an ego to involve it in my performance. So yes I do breathe in deeply before I walk on stage but that’s just about it. I started performing poetry at Kwani? in 2007 and by 2009 I was so used to it I was the featured poet. In case you don’t believe me like most people. Find the event archive here. It’s then that I met Cindy Ogana who was still there this Tuesday, having not aged a single day since then. People say such things to be polite, but really she had the cutest baby boy since then whom I call King Arthur. And she still rocks those same locks, longer of course by now. This is my truth, I really can’t see any change from the person she was. She’s crazy, she’s nuts, she’s eccentric and had all of us in fits about the book from Kwanini? Series by the title “The Cock Thief” by Parselelo Kantai.

All in all, I lost my position in this love for performance, love for literature, love for writing. And all to what? Relationships! See I’m a last born of 7 and I’m 27. That can tell you that my family is not in the least bit the “a la mode” kind when it comes to doing things. Especially on love and relationships. You could say we blow things out of proportion so I guess we really are NUCLEAR. Anyway, the consequence of this is that I was not taught how to love. You learn ON THE GO. If they ask you whether YOU WANT FRIES WITH THAT love. You clearly have no answer for it. Let me specify, the kind of love I am talking about here is the boy-girl relationship kind.

See, my mama taught me 2 kinds of love. To love God and to love my family. So in that department I was covered. But big mistake is when you apply that kind of teaching to this 3rd kind of love. The 2 former types of love are full of unshakable trust and they are very unconditional. So I was accustomed to applying this kind of teaching to my relationships. See, I would meet someone and they would become the apple of my eye then end up leaving me all beaten and blue like they threw an apple at my eye.

But  I am not  here to discuss that today. What this post is about is the fact that I lost my way. I lost my life goals, I started existing instead of living. See, doing the things you love and not just the one you love is the true measure of happiness. 😀 😛 I have done a lot of arts in my life. I have danced hip hop, taught salsa, acted, sang etc. But writing and performing my work is the epitome of the person I am. In and out. It is the one thing I can’t let go of, I shouldn’t let go of. Like my hair, it is my one man religion on my soul pavilion.

I wrote so little during the last 3 years. But since my last relationship, since the last 7 months, I have written enough to be back in the game. And last night was my first step on the renewed stage. Yes I might be way older. If being referred to as a veteran poet was not a sign enough then going there with my face looking like this did not help. I blame it on the Uhuru government though. I came back from Angola only to find that my barber had hiked the fee and now I have to wait for end of month to shave.

Bearder dan most!! hehe
Bearder dan most!! hehe

Still, I learn something new every day, every month and every year. This is a lesson I will keep ingrained in my mind. Never lose what you loved doing before meeting someone. Because that is what probably attracted them to you. Do not become a bore. That passion you had for screaming at a football match. Keep it. Never stop performing (I really mean on stage here). I’m not sure whether “stone throwing” for Gor fans applies. But you can throw something at her. Not HARD things though (ok, one) 🙂 Throw her a pillow, a kiss (blow but you get me), a rotten banana. You see that old guitar you used to strum only a few chords on and only knew one song on it? Keep at it. She might roll her eyes when you do but innately and probably sub consciously, it is one thing she likes about you. Not the lack of talent at playing the instrument. But your persistence. Your ability to keep trying.

A performer’s best attribute is his confidence, his charisma etc. A writer’s strong points are his creativity, his humour, his exposure to the world. Do not look for the best person to love, make and keep yourself lovable and the best person will find you.

Shihan has some crazy ideas on what love should be. That will be a discussion for another day but I will leave some excerpts here:

“I want a love like
Me thinking of you
Thinking of me thinking of you type love……….

…….I want to try counting the ways I love her
And lose count in the middle just so I have to start all over again
And I want to celebrate one of those one month anniversaries
Even though they ain’t really anniversaries
But doing it just ‘cause it make her happy type love……

……And I want a love that makes me st-st-st-st-stutter
Just thinking about how strong this love is type love
And I want a love that makes me want to cut off all my hair
Well, maybe not all of the hair
Maybe like I cut the split ends and trim my moustache
But it would still be a symbol of how strong my love for her….

………And check this, I kind of feel comfortable now
So I even be fantasizing about walking out on a green light
Just dying to get hit by a car
Just so I could lose my memory
Get transported to some third world country just to get treated
Then somehow meet up again with you so I can fall in love with you
In a different language and see if it still feels the same type love
I want a love that’s as unexplainable as she is”

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