First things first, I don’t even know why they would consider this a topic to write on. Why? Because my heart is nothing close to those fancy medals that need to be won. Like the ones Kemboi is so accustomed to winning. Mine is just a piece of flesh that mostly just pumps blood to the rest of the tiny me, and ensures I am alive. It seldom appears to me that it would wish to be won.
But then again, challenges are here to stay, so I thought about some things that would make me feel some type of way. And that type of way is never bad.
Please don’t invite me over to your place. Chances are I will not show up. And I might not bother to explain why, because I always think you will act mature and assume I was busy. And you wouldn’t be petty to ask what was keeping me busy. But just in case your gods are working and I turn up, you could never go wrong with githeri.
I remember one time I thought this guy had a crush on me. So, one day we were talking about our favourite foods and he popped the question I have always dreaded.
Him: So, what is your favourite food?
Me: Do you really want to know or this is just a conversation mover?
Him: I want to know.
Him: (Laughing out loud) You cannot be serious. Who has _githeri _as their favourite food?
Him: Haukai kama githeri!
Eish. That one was harsh. We never talked after that. Probably because I am still trying to figure out how he expected me to look like githeri, yet I am just a simple human being, while githeri is a mixture of maize and beans. But mostly, I think we don’t talk anymore because no one disrespects githeri in my presence.
I think githeri is a woman!
You know those wall hangings that say Jesus is the silent listener to every conversation? Yeah, something like that. Only that you will only listen to the conversations I want you to. And if you remain silent, it means I only do the talking, and the much you could do is nod your head, or punctuate the conversation with those ‘mmhhhms’ or squeeze my hand when you feel the urge.
Also, you could ask questions at the end. Only at the end.
I will not burden you with important dates such as my birthday. I know that is Facebook’s responsibility. But are you able to remember tiny bits of me like the last time I cried? Or my favourite book? My best line in a certain song?
Are you able to randomly quote a paragraph or a sentence from a piece I wrote while seated next to you? Do you know how many pieces are up on my blog?
No. don’t bother remembering my mpesa pin. You will find nothing there.
Everyone loves a good laugh at times, don’t they? Myself, I don’t know whether I can make people laugh, but I know my kind of thinking will at times send you laughing to the floor. Humour is beautiful. It expresses even the darkest of emotions hidden deep within the soul. It exposes someone’s vulnerability. If you can have a genuine laugh, then you pass out as a genuine person.
And I don’t mean these normal memes and jokes found all over social media. Or the tribal jokes. No, those ones I can find on Churchill Show.
I am rooting for the dark humour that is served with a little bit of sarcasm. The one we pause for a minute to digest, before our muscles finally let go. I am rooting for the dark humour that intelligently isolates those who do not belong.
Now that is the purest form of love.
I am introverted. I know this because my immediate next-door neighbour moved out the day before yesterday, during the day, and I only found out today morning after my other neighbour who lives a couple of houses away from me told me so. And if you are wondering, I have been in my house since Friday.
So, if you know the value of personal space. You know how to keep your distance. To respect my boundaries. To understand that I might be needing your mind, and not necessarily your presence, then maybe you are just the one…haha.
Sometimes, I just love to keep to myself and do that which pleases me; like ignoring my calls, reading interesting blogs, trying out new cooking methods, and sometimes, doing the laundry.
If you can match this kind of low energy, you definitely are my guy!
If you are looking to buy me any other thing that is not a book, just stick to electronics. And no, a mouse and earphones are not included. Those are considered free give-aways.
Otherwise, those flowers you think are so romantic will wither away while still in your hands. That dress will probably not fit. And if it does, I might not like it because well, I get to choose my own clothes. And let us not talk about shoes. Those are sacred.
What other gifts do you guys buy? Yes, that whole list does not appeal to me. Could we just stick to electronics? Please? Thank you.
There is a time I surprised myself and visited a friend’s place. So, they gave me their tablet to find something interesting when they went out to find something else (maybe githeri 😊).
They came back to find me playing Stromae’s Papaoutai on repeat.
Them: I did not know you know French.
Me: Well, I don’t.
Them: Then why do you have that song on repeat?
Honestly. I didn’t have even the slightest idea of what those lyrics meant. But I went on to find the translation online and fell in love even more (Not with the guy, with Stromae). Since then, I listen to Stromae like I was born doing that. And every time I do that, the only person in my mind is that friend.
So, I don’t tie people down to play my kind of music. I don’t even think I have a specific kind. But sometimes your music might just do the trick for me.
My heart is easily won by those people who do not allow the rules to pin them down. Those who are not afraid to voice their opinions, and are free of judgement towards other people’s decisions, no matter how different they are.
I don’t know about you, but a free-thinker is mostly someone who understands themselves, their boundaries, choices, consequences and are mature enough to let others have a taste of the same.
Not always, but there is no pain in trying. You may never know the outcome unless you try it out. I promise I will take it. If I won’t like it, I will stash it away and flaunt it to anyone who comes to my place.
Something like ‘Hey, look what Person Y bought me. Romantic right?’
No, I won’t laugh at you.
If you have come this far, you probably know the only kind of books I detest are motivational books. I won’t read it. So, what is the point of stashing it in my book shelf?
Otherwise, buy a random book from the streets and bring it to me. I guarantee you I will love it. I might even write about you. And if I like it too much, I might squeeze you in for a tight hug.
It isn’t hard to ‘win’ my heart. Is it?
See you tomorrow!