By deciding to read this, you are halfway into concluding that I am one of those cliché Kenyans who never received enough hugs during their childhood. Except that my childhood was great. I climbed trees alongside boys, stole sugar when my mother was not watching and even, choked on cooked intestines at some point. Now that I think of it, I understand why my parents say I wasn’t an easy kid. Who can trust a kid who steals ‘matumbo’ and goes ahead to choke on them? Aren’t thieves supposed to be careful enough?
Moving on, my personal life is a subject I’ve always found difficult to talk about. I prefer to write about it. But even then, I write like one afraid of myself. Like one afraid of showing the world how broken and imperfect I truly am. How not so-put-together I can be when the rubber meets the road. In any case, who amongst us really wants to the world to see the worst of them? His existence was one sketchy part of my life.
He was an elusive one. The first few days, I was struggling to understand him. If a closed has a form, he must have been it. When I say closed, I do not in any way imply that he was similar to my creepy neighbor who never say as much as a mummed hi despite his living next to me for 4 years. The other day I gave my life to Christ and at the top of my prayer list is this neighbor of mine. That he may lose his key to the gate and come crawling with his tail between his legs, begging for my key. That way I will get to know what he sounds like when uttering complete sentences.
At first, I thought his elusiveness okay. But over time, I resented it. What kind of a friend wants to know all your life but never reveals anything deep about his ? Yet, I decided to ignore his elusiveness. I mean, as long as you can make me laugh, send me funny memes from time to time and not talk too much about yourself, we can be friends. Except that he used to go on and on about himself and his achievements. All that superficial stuff. I cannot count the number of times I spaced out during our conversations. Talking about ourselves is our favorite hobby, all of us. But doing it all the time? I beg. No.
He wasn’t a perfect one but I chose to keep him anyway. And over time, he did find his way through the walls of my soul to become my friend. That wasn’t so hard for him now, was it? See, he was the resilient-but-gentle kind of friends. The kind who watch you throw tantrums and in the end, ask you, ‘Umemaliza nduru tukunywe ile activated charcoal? Inakuanga mzuri sana kwa pimples na moods, sweety.’
Not so long ago, I ditched this friend of mine. Wait, he was the one who began to go mum for some time and for no reason. I had my own plateful of blue ticks but when I felt like my intestines were beginning to turn blue, I knew it was not too bad to shed some friends off. Like totally shed them off. As we speak, I am already perched on Joshua’s back and we are slowly crawling our way into Mesopotamia. Si Caanan proved elusive?
Some will say that I shouldn’t fuss over this because drifting happens every other day. (and my own words are coming back to bite my rear on this) Some are mere drifts while others are absolute raptures. But that does not matter. What matters is, knowing who is and isn’t worth the effort and pains. But now that one evil woman at the salon saw it best to roast my hair and cause me severe heat damage, I cannot afford to dwell on drifts. I choose to concentrate on my poor barbequed hair.
Look at it this way. When they walk into your life, some people, they are like sunshine. Rather, sunshine trails them wherever they go. But if they decide to let you bask in it till you develop blisters, you might need to think again. And mark my words, it never is about who chooses to stay in your life. Wait, that is not 100% correct. But isn’t it also about who is worth keeping in your life?