Monthly Archives: July 2014


Some moments are immortalized in  our lives forever. There are things you cannot forget eve if you wanted. For Beate, she will forever remember the time when the phone rang.

It was 3. 23 am.

She was used to getting calls from him, asking her to go bail him from the police cells, or to go and pay for his drink because he was being held in a bar…

It was his number on the screen. She ignored it. It kept ringing.

“Hello….” she said. She knew it will be the normal story. Him begging her to go and bail him, with a promise of it being the last time he will ever need his help….

“Hello, is this Roger’s mom?” came a voice from the other end of the line.

Beate was used to strangers calling him to go and pick her dead beat son, drunk beyond the plateau of drunkenness.

“Yes, I am his mom….”

“Look, it seems like he was in a hit and run accident. He was brought here and…..”

the caller’s voice drifted off.

“And what?” her body was shaking….
“He died. We found his phone at the scene, and that is how got your number.

She doesnt remember much what happened after that. All she remembers was driving to the hospital where her son’s body was. She remembers seeing his limp lifeless body sprawled on a silver bed.

And she remembers weeping for her only. Falling on the body as the morgue attendants looked on.

Her only child, who she had raised on her own after her husband died when he was just a small body had turned out to be a disappointed to many. But a mother”s love like they say, is able to tower over some failures….

and so she cried.

Later when her friend came and drove her home, she fell asleep. And for the first time, in a very long time, she slept peacefully. She was now sure of where her son was…..

In death, he was safer than he was in life.





Categories: FLASH STORIES | 3 Comments


Eva sat and smiled at her date inanely in the deepest attempt to look interested and riveted by the topic he has chosen to discuss. He went on and on about the receding waters of Lake Victoria, and how sad it made him to think that in about a hundred years, the area occupied by the lake will be nothing but a playing field for children, whose only interaction with the lake will be in books and tales.

Oh my!

This was their forth date and it was so painfully boring. She felt like time was on a standstill.

Well, it is not like she made an effort to make the conversation better. Apart from the occasional shaking of head, muttering a few ‘ahas’ and wearing a fake smile; she didnt do much. She was hoping that her non participation would give him hints that there was no connection between them and that this would be the last date they had to go for.

She didn’t have the courage to tell him that he was boring ~

She stared at him with feigned interest for such a long time, trying to take in his words — such that when she finally blinked, tears formed at the corners of her eyes. The staring had caused her eyes to water!

He paused mid sentence, looked at her and handed her one of the serviettes from the table. She wiped her tears and he resumed the conversation about global warming and the lake.

Finally when she went home, she flung her shoes on the floor and collapsed on the sofa.

What a boring date!

She quickly texted him to inform him that she had arrived safely and lied she had a good time.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he  called his friend who had hooked him up with Eva.

” Man, this was the most terrible date. That chick is so weird. She sits and stares at me without saying a thing. It makes me so nervous, that I end up talking about random shit. Today I talked about global warming; and I think somehow, it moved her so much that she actually cried. I think she is one of those environmental crazy ones. Yikes!”

And after the end of the phone call, she thought about Eva. He had to break up with her on the next date.  She was too boring!

“Let’s do it again on Wednesday…”  He texted her.

When Eva read the text, she sighed. She had to break up with him on the next day.
“Cool.  Wednesday is a good day….”


It had to be done.


(Photo courtesy: Capital)


Categories: FLASH STORIES | Leave a comment



“My father does not hold my hand when we go to church. My father does not steal my ear or carry me on his shoulder like Lucy’s father. He does not teach me how to make snakes using my hands when there is no light. My father does not bring me a banana when he comes from work…..”

He read in his seven year old daughter’s English composition book under the  title “MY FATHER…”

He took it from the top and read it over and over, and the more he read it, the more he felt his  failures being  echoed  back  at him, presented in his daughter’s squeaky and rugged handwriting.

“My father does not want us to make noise when he is in the house, so I go out when he is in because he doesnt like noise. My father does not want  me to disturb him…..”

It went on.

A tear dropped from his eyes and created a wet patch on the words etched in pencil. His daughter’s words had pierced his inner core, and in those innocently scribbled words, he was able to learn something nobody had dared to tell him.


He was just like his father……

So he took an eraser from his daughter’s bag and erased all the ‘nots’ and even though he knew that he couldn’t go back in time and erase the reality that her innocent daughter had written, he was sure he wanted to give her a new beginning.

Man holding book and reading, mid section, close-up


Categories: FLASH STORIES | 1 Comment


Her  heart pounded as she moved the cursor towards the unopened envelop signaling a new email. She was excited by the title of it. Finally it was happening.
Coffee Date

That is what the title read.  Her heart did another flip flop.

She  had a crush on him-

Ever since he walked into our office for a business transaction, and the many times he came back for a follow up with her boss; she  fell deeply for him, and often found herself fantasizing about things that her body yearned to do to him.

She clicked on the email and read it. It was short and precise.

“Hey, I don’t know if this is the right channel to use. I couldn’t get your number, so pardon me for using your job email. Can I take you out for coffee this weekend?”

She squirmed in her chair and tried hard to contain herself. After consulting with her best friend, she decided to respond with only two sentences.
“Coffee would be nice. See you this weekend. ”

And that is how they ended up in one of the most expensive restaurants in town. The ambiance was perfect. they got their reserved seats near the window, overlooking the busy streets. She was so excited; it felt like she was in a daze. And sitting up close to him, she drunk in his handsomeness and tried so hard to resist the urge of cuddling closer to his masculine body’

He slid his cafe latte  closer to himself and looked her straight in  the eye. She struggled to find words to fill in the excitement and fear that was rising in the depths of her belly. He took a huge gulp of his drink and smiled.


After a light talk about the weather and random things to fill in the conversation, he jumped right at it.
“Errrrm, I really wanted to know you more….”

She smiled while playing with a strand of her braid  that had been blown to her face.

“Well, I am just me, you know, girl of few words, nothing much….”  She beamed.

Suddenly, her confidence had escaped her, and it was replaced by a shyness that was surprisingly new to her.

He ordered for whiskey and sipped on it as she told him about herself. He was a good listener.

He took a swig of his glass of whiskey and nodded as she old him about the details of her  life that she thought would make her sound more interesting and classy ~ anything to climb fast into the heart of a man you love!


He smiled. It was a good sign.

Then he took her hands into his chilled fingers, looked her in the eyes and lowered his voice:
“Hey, Flo, I don’t know how to ask you this, but I am sure you understand…..”


She tensed on her seat.

“The day I saw you, I knew there was something in you. I knew you were different. I have this friend called Jackline…errm, she is looking for someone to share her love with, and with you know how difficult it is for people like you to find someone…People haven’t accepted that two women can….”

She was speechless for a moment.

“Look, I told Jacky about you the first day I saw you, and she asked me to do it for her….I am sure you will like her….she has been my friend since college, and I feel like she deserves someone in her life. We can do a double date if you want. You, me, my fiance and Jacky…”  He said, his hand still holding mine.


She  frowned when it finally sunk in.

“Uhhmmm, I am not a lesbian… what do you mean?”

He smiled uncomfortably and let go of my fingers in a flash.  He scratched his head and picked his glass then dropped it without taking a sip.
“My bad, my bad…” he kept muttering under his breath.


Her  small universe of happily ever after was crushed. So she picked her coat and hastily said goodbye.

When  she went to bed that night, she asked herself so many questions…..:

“Must be the way I do the things I do….”
“Maybe that is why he thought I am a lesbian….”

And then she drifted off to sleep


Categories: FLASH STORIES | 2 Comments


The sparkling fire illuminated the silver strands of her thinning hair. She sat silently on the rickety chair that had been her husbands and felt a familiar warmness. She snuggled more and felt the warmth of his body gather and surround her, just like it had done for the 54 years they had been together.


She smiled when she remembered how he used to tease her and the little fights they had. And how they worked together in their small farm and built the things that they had now.

Outside, she could hear her son and his new wife engage in a heated debate. Their voices getting higher and higher…..

She sat still….but deep down she longed to tell them that those small things they fight about every time don’t matter. She wished she could tell them to hold tight to the love they share, for time will toss it and test it over and over….and somehow, ultimately, time will win…

But memories of love will remain….

Of course she couldn’t tell them all that- because of the stroke she recently got. It  raided her muscles and robbed her of the ability to speak.

So she stares on at the dying embers of the fire in front of her~ reminisces about her gone youth, that cannot be recaptured, and holds on to the memories of her dead husband….for they are the only things that keep her mind busy in her silenced world.






Categories: FLASH STORIES | Leave a comment


I could feel a sudden fear engulf me as I stopped at his bedroom door. I couldn’t shake off the the chaotic torment of the the pain I was about to inflict, or the weight of the information I had.


My son’s doctor had given it to me in the politest way possible, but I wasn’t sure I will be able to pass it without losing a part of me. The words kept bouncing in my head, like stubborn echoes that refuse to die.

“We will have to cut both  legs because the infection has spread too far for us to do anything else…..but he is a kid, he will survive it….”

I remember walking out of the hospital like someone in  a fog.

Finally, I open his bedroom’s door, find him playing on the floor with his toys, oblivious of the information that is stuck inside my throat. I sit next to him and play with one of his toys.

“Hey, we will have to go to the doctor again tomorrow.”
He nods without looking at me.

“He says that they will remove your legs so that you become strong….”
He drops the toy truck he was playing with, looks at me in  the eye and says:
“How can I be strong without my legs mommy? I want to be like spider man when I become a big boy. How will I do that without my legs…?”

I had promised myself not to cry. So even as a lump rises to my throat and emotions threaten to take over my body…I will myself not to cry.

“You will stop being sick when they remove your legs, I promise….” I say feebly.

“But I want to be spiderman.” he says so slowly, painfully, and confidently. He is only three years old, and his view of the world is still sprayed with innocence.

“If they remove my legs, will they put wings on  my back so that I can fly?” He asks. His face is beginning to have that crease t gets when he is about to cry. His mouth is folded in that funny way it does when the water works are about to hit.


I cant break his heart twice. Not in one day.

“Yes. Yes. Yes….” I whisper, as my own tears break their dykes. ” And then I can’t hold it anymore.

“mommy…..don’t cry. If I have wings I will be able to do many things… Maybe the doctor can make for your your own wings too. ”

He says while looking at me with renewed confidence.

When I leave, I lean on my kitchen counter and I cry so hard, I fear that my heart is going to stop, from all the intense emotions being pumped in me. I can actually feel huge pressure pressing on my chest. As if I am having a heart attack.




Dedication to Sarah Chebet…..and her son Kiptoo….

Mami, God still lives.



Categories: Uncategorized | 1 Comment


The needle’s tip touches my exposed shoulder with precision. It is delicately painful, like walking on thin ice. My eyes are closed. I can feel his breath blow on the tiny hairs of my body…..slowly, and carefully, he draws, and even though I cannot see it, I can feel the delicate patterns he is working on begin to take shape….

It feels so right……………………………………………………………………………………


That day, as I walked into the tattoo place , A surge of satisfaction rose through me.

Ever since I was young, I always wanted to have a tattoo.  There was a time in my late teenage that I wanted a huge plaster of my guardian angel put on my whole back as homage to the spirit which guided me through the most conflicted stage of my life.

But that phase passed.

Life happened, and I decided that if I will ever go through the pain of having a tattoo, it has to be something dear to me.

and I couldn’t think of anything more relevant to me than that which had sustained me when the harsh winds of life’s uncertainty tossed me up and about.

I only wanted  one word to be curved on my body…..and I hoped that the dark ink would leak through my skin and stain my heart and mind.


I relaxed as the steady pain buzzed and the stinging sensation  formed the one word that had nudged me on, when everything else fell and scattered.


what I held on to when I thought I was going to drown in my own sorrows, and when everything else was going down.

Hope kept me alive. It helped me put one foot in front of the other when strength deserted me. When life took a spin and sped fast, and I became an observer in the way my own life was unfolding…HOPE whispered to me that I have to keep moving.

Now I was immortalizing that word, freezing it on my own flesh, so that humanity, as blind as they may come, can touch me and read me like braille and see what pushed me past the turbulence that hit me.



when he was done, I touched my sore shoulder and felt the bump where the words had been inscribed. So that whenever anyone asks me:
“What does that tattoo mean…”
I would be able to tell the story of my life…..word by word, struggle by struggle, and finish with the word:


…for it is the only reason I am alive today.




Categories: FLASH STORIES | Leave a comment

Blog at


Because everyone has a story


Love and life. Life and Love.

Stories inspired by tossing a YOYO



The greatest site in all the land!

Manwale's Blog

"To write is to undress, to make public what we write is to walk nude."


Smile :). The world needs it :)


your imperfection doesn't make you broken; it makes you human

Life, oh life!

Live Like its your Very Last Day-To the fullest

Tina Turners Home Decor

Its about people's homes, the back and the front yards and offices....


A journey through life's events...Smiling through them all!

%d bloggers like this: