Sikiliza

I do not know when and how it happened, but a part of me is standing at the shores of a wide ranging river. The rest of me left behind at the other side. The sense of loss is immense as we stare across into each other.  Trying to make sense of why am I here, and there, split and a mere reflection of myself I feel lost. I look down at the ground I stand on willing it to speak and give me some answers.  The earth’s stony silence back reverberates loudly. My sense of incompleteness is overwhelming. I feel like a hollow and broken version of myself. I lift my hands reading my open palms hoping to uncover some truths on my predicament. Nothing is forthcoming. I ponder for a moment if its answers or, the right questions that I seek. I remain unsure. I look up and back again to the other me and try to call out but no sound comes... I try once more and the words formed remain unspoken piling up at my throat...  Instinctively, I reach out to touch my neck, then face towards my lip...

  When voice found me it released words through my lips, we were both startled at the unfamiliarity..  I formed clear thoughts, ideas and expressions but they spewed out clumsily like baby-talk and banter.. But my thoughts kept at it and my words were not shackled by silence .... In time my thoughts, feelings & words were so devoted they fell into a magical rhythm... Where my living loving and giving were most vividly reflected in how I connected with the world... Sometimes that world is fast, rash & harsh   To protect my  bruised self I withdraw often... Words are the first to dissolve to thin air; then my thoughts feelings held captive in a thick mist... My spirit wanes and I forget my name & the powerful way through love & support I came to be.. Before I truly perish in the tyranny of my silence, a spark within urges me to look up to see the mist clearing... I start to see shapes & forms once again, blinking I try to locate...

We always met under the muratina tree And spoke for hours on end... Those were the moments my heart body and soul were captured by her spell She mesmerises me still many moons later  Not sure what was more intoxicating ... Her voice, her presence, the tender way she is with me....  Or the thoughts of the joyful brew we from the  Dropped fruit sweetness that shrouds its potency.... Both have my head spinning and my smile plastered on my face this festive season.... To being merry with love a good swig of muratina...

Wow what a year... and before I fall into pandemic cliches ‘in these strange times’ all I can say in a very loaded way is its been an intense journey. One filled with unexpected moments, lessons some very painful. I have hesitated until now   to share my thoughts because one minute to the next I oscillate from sheer panic and dread to an unsettling calm acceptance and somehow words felt inadequate to capture these convoluted experiences... But as we kick into the last quarter of this year with a sured-ness that life as we know it will never really be the same ... I have a new sense of stillness sitting at the pit of my belly as we brace to face what comes ahead.  For a while, when the world was out of order I misplaced some my internal bearings and anchors that helped me process my strong emotions and difficulties...I felt paralysed to access my usual outlets of art and expression, prayer, movement and meditation.... and my introverted ways easily shifted into being hermitty a...

Trace down all my ebony skin Feel along with it each minute texture Rise of goosebump sharp breathe I take The anticipation of you has me on edge Senses titillating as you lovingly rove me Slow or fast unsure time lost meaning In this wordless love song You play at me You nibble  String me  Stir me Awaken me...  Give me A kind of caress  that demands my attention  As I remember the familiarity of you Eyes drawn shut to contain my delights  Of folding into the warmth of joy Give these curves a little more devotion Offering each inch gentle care in place Of rebuke that rolled so effortlessly prior So love thyself ...  Each day for the time it takes to examine your reflection  That is how we will change this world....

I struggled to be  Because there are razor sharp blades  In place of tongue that tore words up Words dried up and so we learnt to cry Tears dried up and so we learnt to heave Air dried up and we felt life ebb away I struggled to be.... You have struggled to be  Because there are painful barbs  In place of tongue and so you shot these  Barbs wounded us so we learnt to cry Blood overran tears so we learnt to moan Stifled weak drained we felt us slip away We ceased to be.... We ceased to be.... Because we chose razors and barbs  To replace gentleness to hurt each other  Sharing pain, our legacy we learnt to cry Inflict suffering our choice we learnt to moan We watched things and people slip by  Until nothing could be...

I hurt, shrug and smile. 2020 When I was 9 years old CW a known violent bully in Moi Primary pushed me off the stone benches I was playing on. It was unexpected and he simply shoved me off and I fell face flat on the gravel. He walked away non plussed. No one said anything .. a few kids pointed and laughed.  Shrugs. I woke up winced and tried to wipe my tunic and clean off the blood on both my knees. I did it with quietly with tears rolling down my cheeks. I remained quiet throughout the day until now 33 years later I have written it down. One Sunday, when I was 11, DD an older boy from school who was one class ahead of me accosted me while alone near the swings at the Sports Club while I was with there with family over the weekend. He came up to me and threw a 100/- at me demanding that I take it and ‘play sex.’ I gave an incredulous and disgusted laugh saying hell no and seemed surprised... and ashamed. His face turned red and he picked his money walked awa...