It’s the wake of a new day, slight footsteps and hushing noises wake me from my unsound sleep, beneath an old Volvo T25 gasoline tractor, rusty and now abandoned.
I dress myself in my dirty ragtag image of a shirt, no pants… my shirt is long enough, or so I think, doesn’t matter. The reeking dust resting on its shoulders form veils of dust as I rise.
I slip in my irregularly curved boots that twist and wind with every step, threatening to interweave my ankles if haste is made, they are too hard on me.
Raising my eyes on the other side of the road, I realize it’s not a normal day.
The city is Red.
Sigh!! It’s the lovers day,
With roses and violets,
With merry and bells on,
In red and to the nines,
In pairs and smiles,
From all walks and climates,
They have come to grace the city.
I return my gaze to the back of the old tractor, gasping over my tired and sleepy eyes. Two slices of brown bread, now green, will start my day.
I munch through.
Amidst my unpalatable delicacy, I catch sight of a plump, short, dark, bowlegged man, bald head….. right in front of me, he lowers his head as his eyelashes rise to give way to two dim balls of eyes in their evening of life . We look straight into each other for a sufficient while.
He dips his hand into his pockets and dishes out a coin, hands it over to me and leaves mumbling something only he can hear.
Am surprised by his behavior because I had already decided to hate him.
Scantly dressed as I am I trudge through the turbulent rough crowds, then I catch the glimpse of a young couple, a rose in each ones hand, locked in love, in their own world. I watch with admiration as I approach them,..
“Uncle saidia… “
They jerk as the lady screams, probably trying to balance between the confusion and the sight of the creature that had suddenly materialized from nowhere.
“Uncle saidia na mbao ya lunch… “
The “Uncle”,in his bid to prove his masculinity gets hold of her and leads her away, they move undeterred and oblivious to my cries.
My heart bleeds, I sit down, encased in my skin and bones, tears rolling down my face. I feel beaten and angry.
Why do I get this undeserving abuse?
Did the maker in his vast riches provide for all but me?
Am I not lovable?
Where is my Valentine’s?
I close my eyes and all I can see is that heartless couple scampering at my sight. I get a sudden park of feelings…fury, bitterness, unfathomable anger, enrage, revenge…. Armed with all these I rise..
“They will tell a story tonight. ” I vow.
By. Dennis K Bundi