I have always wished to write someone else’s story on my blog. When I got a very long inbox on my Facebook account, I could not pass it. Especially putting it that she would want the world to know her story. I love motivational blogs and her comment was so intense on one of the articles I was reading that I commented on it. I have never listened much to men hurting from being cheated on by women, I have NEVER heard a woman regret for cheating on a man. But this made me tear. We talked on Saturday night for close to two hours on phone and my heart was broken. Let us not take our men for granted. Here is Bibi’s’ story done in verbatim on paper as accurate as possible,,,,

“Listening to his voice over the phone was worse than I ever thought. I could feel how hurt he was. I could connect with the raw pain in his words and the struggle to mumble words I very knew would be the last to me. Unlike his normal so many words in such a little time kind of talking, this call was different. Slow, low and very clear. It was as if he wanted each letter and each word to be of impact. He wanted me to feel what I could not see . He made me know how hard I had trampled on his ego, how I had made his heart bleed and just how shattered I had had made his life be .

bustedUsually, it ought to have been me on the other end, yapping and crying , seeking for answers and demanding for explanation. Questioning myself where I had failed and why we would not have talked about it . But here I was, reversed roles. He did not need to call me a whore to have it sink in my head, it already had. He never asked why I did it but I already wanted to say I was sorry for the umpteenth time. He did not ask me to forget him and never reach out but l already knew that I never wanted to see him again. I knew I was not worth his gaze leave alone time.

You see , we (him and I ) met at a very funny place , market , to be specific ,at a green grocers market . It was a bright Sunday afternoon and sight of a man with a big basket full of fruits and veggies could not go unnoticed. Luckily, I was to come in handy when he couldn’t decide what was better for salad between courgette and cucumber. Also made him try out butter nuts rather than pumpkin.

A man so straight that in a week, I already knew that he was healing from a broken relationship, apparently after being cheated on by his 3 year fiancée. As a human being with feelings, this should move you especially if it comes with such open show of pain and disgust. It should be a warning enough to keep of such but if heavens allowed you two to get together , it should always be for a life. You can imagine doing the very thing to him, for a second time. This is all after letting him cry on your shoulder and showing him that he could love again. Showing him and making him know that you are different and could be trusted with his fragile heart .

We all never see this coming but when you get involved with a man so fragile , one should be prepared with the sensitivity it comes with . Such men need undivided attention and sincere love . The can smell deception while it’s just a thought in a woman’s stupid brain .

That fateful Saturday that is still as fresh as today when he was to travel from a nearby town late in the evening , he decided to come earlier than usual to surprise me . We had been having issues due to my new work schedule that barely gave me time off during weekends . Actually this was the first weekend off in the last four months . Him being away made this little freedom I had seem adventurous . I could not sip on my two unopened chardonnay bottles alone. Why not invite friends over . I got my best friend and workmate come over for lazy evening and night . As the unlucky stars would have it, my friend bailed out the last minute after his boyfriend dropped unexpectedly. I could not send my workmate away as he was already at the gate . I promised myself not to overindulge, a promise I should have known too well I don’t keep .

Dickson was a new guy, barely three months old at my place but we had clicked so easily . He was young , at least younger by three years . He had the greatest sense of humor and so was his dressing . Easy to the eye he was and a great listener . Actually the two bottles of wine were from him . It was a bet he had lost and had to buy me a present . One Friday he had honored it with wine and a tube of lipstick because he has accidentally stepped on my fallen one a week before that .

Fast forward in my house , I was easy with him, or at least he made me comfy . We decided no TV but talk and wine . Trust me , he showed up with a good collection of African music that was to be for Liz, my best friend . We had supper and later started on the wine. From gossip at work to neighbors and finally tit bits of personal life. By midnight, it was laughter as the wine took toll. A little pillow fight crept in and more intense looks . I felt at ease and moved closer. He knew I was dating and so was I aware he was too . This was a surreal moment however; exceptional and adventurous I did not want to pass. We talked about it and promised that he was to leave the first thing at the crack of dawn. I wish I knew this was never going to happen. The feeling of waking up is some muscular arms on a Saturday morning only made me snuggle even more. Since I knew my guy was to come in the evening, why not just cuddle a lil more?

Around 10.00 am we decided it was time to clean up, at least together but set the record straight that this was just one of those one night stands. The Music, water and our laughter must have deafened the lock turning. He was back, early enough with reservations for an out of town experience . I think he heard the noise in the shower, carefully placed what he had on the table , plus the hotel details . He managed to only get any documentation he had in my house and left. However, this was not before penning a short note,

“This is for you and your shower partner, I do hope you have the fun we were to. “

There was no sign off. Of course I knew his handwriting. From the shower, trying to clear the table, my eyes landed on some goodies and the note. Nothing can compare to the pain I felt. I sat dumbfounded for what seemed like eternity. Dickson dressed and left without a word. I could not cry , I just sat there, going through every pain he had been through getting over his fiancée . I was dazed, I wanted to call him but I couldn’t. I couldn’t move. I sat there for close to three hours staring into space. Just a single night of stupidity had ruined someone. I was not in pain but felt his. I had shredded the little pieces that remained of him. I was a selfish bitch who only pretended to care. Who, in their right mind could do this to an innocent man ?

I took leave from job the following week and stayed indoors, not crying but hiding my face from my own condemnation. I never cried, I did not feel broken but I loathed myself. I wished I had never meant every word that I knew I meant. I wish I was a little bit sincere and held onto my words.

His call, four days later is all I needed, to know that I hurt him, and that he did not want anything to do with me anymore .I listened to him as he made every word sink in. I took every stab of his articulation with shame. It was my first but it did not redeem me from being called a whore. Not that he did but I knew I deserved to be called that. Which kind of a woman cheats on his boyfriend. For more than an hour we talked, a sober talk . I did not shed a tear . He did not need explanations but just wanted to express himself. We agreed he would come over to pick his clothes when I was not around and drop the key at my office .

I recorded all that I thought I would say before the agreed on day .

At least, I wanted it to be the first thing he saw when he got in with a note *please listen before you pick anything * .

I guess he did . I could imagine him listening to me say what I had to say and later reading a copy of my resignation letter on my bed . I don’t know how he reacted .All I know is that I found half of my clothes and some of his missing . He never brought me the key .

While serving my notice and looking for another job, I kept on praying that I forgive myself . I prayed with every chance I got . Though I talked to Dickson , I kept my distance . I never relented in prayer though . I started a journey on self-forgiveness because I had condemned myself so much . I talked to a counselor in church and my prayer partner who to date still walk in me to wards being a better person.

With a week to go , I got a delivery . Flowers and a note . In a note were words that to date still baffle me how he managed to write .One thing I am sue though, he is one man who knows me extremely well

“I know too well that I love you , and you too do . I don’t know what happened but one thing I know is that you would never want to see me down the drain . You have a week at your current station, if you don’t mind, there is a vacancy in my town , a better deal. Check your email for details. You have a home in my house . If you take it , you still have my key , and my lock is till the same . I want us . I still chose you “

My upcoming wedding in Dec is a dream come true, three years later , he is one of the pillars I have towards healing .Our 3 month old son I a reminder of a second chance that I never take for granted . I still regret that moment but sharing it with those close to me and him plus making him part of the healing journey has made it easy . We have grown to understand each other better . I have learnt the hard way when what it means to suffer the guilt of cheating on a man, a very innocent man. I wish no other woman will ever have to go through the same . With love “– Bibi


Cougar Kiblood

One chilly mid-morning, somewhere is my small cage, I suddenly developed the urge to hit the nearest training ground, either rugby, football or anything that intoxicated with testosterone, muscles and sweat. For some reason I will not say the name because hey, you will definitely put a finger on someone. In my shorts, Mwanaume ni Wallet tee (I put on this thinking is scares team mafisi away) and converse shoes, the said venue was my destination. Prior to this day, I had sworn on the remnants of my romantic feelings that I will only date someone at least 7 years my senior So, despite my muscle craving appetite, I knew that age wise, only the technical bench complimented by hints of potbellies fit my idealism. So sure that here , I was to entertain my eyes and fantasies, nothing more .

COUGARTrust me, nothing beats a body glittering sweat in a rather chilly mid-morning. Since it was training, I could sit as close as possible , at any position and simply try to look like I was there professionally ( I had interviewed one or two guys before) . For close to two hours, I looked, stared, smiled , cringed at collision and appreciated Gods creation . It was a sight to behold . My *thirst was fully catered for . Unfortunately , not all that you plan go actually according to plan . I had intended to leave immediately they went on break for the morning session but this wasn’t to be. As soon as they headed for the early morning training cessation, the head coach, who had spotted me called out .

*Hey Kiblood ! We can’t have a damsel grace our training and leave without saying hi! Come over and let me get you a boyfriend!”

We used to joke a lot on my hate * when it came to dating a player . No hard feelings but when it comes to football, rugby or suddenly the Yegos, maybe a Dunford or Mungai on the bike, you know how many women drool over this asses .Something that I usually find so hard to handle . Not that I haven’t admired a few but it is crazy out there. Back to the field, I have a certain very genuine liking to this coach. He used to encourage me a lot . I remember once when he went out of his way to secure me an interview with a player from another discipline . He encouraged me a lot and taught me too when I was on internship as a sports journalist. So when he called, I strolled directly in to his very warm hug. Few handshakes, catching up then tossed to players for a tête-à-tête.

I was drawn to one of the new signings who had this perfect set of sparkling white teeth . He was tall and black ( I have a thing for black, not dark . Something close to Andrew Amonde) . He seemed interesting and made me comfortable. He looked mature and easy to the eye . Jokingly , I ask the older (professionally) players why they never call to say hallo yet they got my phone number . This young lass( Lets call him Tom) , blurts that if I gave him my phone number , he would call me every single day . My phone number is super easy to memorize. In a chorus all players I knew say it so loud that it send everyone into stitches. We find it a joke. I say my good byes and leave

5.00 pm the very day, I see a new number not in my contacts calling. Its Tom. We find it hilarious that he actually memorized my number . We talk , about his new team of course and why I was at the session during one of the very odd days . This then becomes a routine. Few months down the line , we almost are very close buddies . Its my birthday. As a routine, I don’t go out . He comes up with proposal , to make us dinner . Since its plus a few of his buddies, why not? By the way, all the football and rugby players I have closely interacted are awesome cooks! Even those I have not like Collins Injera have their Instagram account prove this.

Food, drinks, chess game , music laughter , fun ! Oh my I love hanging out with men. Its super freaking awesome. I have so much fun that I almost wish I was a man. Its 1.00am, tricky to leave, so we decide to stay and more games. Not for more hours though before sleep come knocking hard, especially to the guys. I love couches, so I hog it. They somehow manage to find each a place to afford a few winks. The next morning we (not really me because I slept in so much) , I wake up to the best breakfast I haven’t had in ages . We part, them to training , me home .What followed , I don’t know really, one day it’s a coffee date , I find myself attending the training sessions more and more. Nothing sinister but my feelings were starting to warm up to Tom.

One evening at a choma base after the first kiss (those dreamy ones) , I have to help him get some money from the wallet. We had never talked about age. I help him out but his ID number catches my eye. Tome is three darn years my junior. Ohh boy! This is my younger sister’s age mate. My heart suddenly bleeds; my emotions crushed my brain messed. I felt sick! Luckily I was done with my meal. I let him clean up and just hit to the point.

This is a baby in a man’s body. Age is just a number but this caught me by surprise. I almost thought this was my 1000 frog. We talked about it, promised to let it go but it just went never away, at least for me. It’s that bad omen that kept lurking around me. A few weeks later I couldn’t take it anymore. We just had to stop the more than friend’s part. He hasn’t earned a national team call up yet but he surely will. Once drafted in a Kenyan top flight, its as good as a promise of good things to come. I still find time to go and see him train though his 36-26-40 down to earth yellow yellow finds time to keep me company at the grounds .Despite his kissing PHD , the cougar spirit in me is still a sleep .

Doris,What do you want ?

I want to be happy , I want to succeed , I want to travel the world, I want ,, want , want ..! This is a daily dose question that my mind has religiously asked. I may blame it on age, but how now? Maybe my current social situation where I barely have time to make new friend s? , uummmhh , naaah! Maybe I am certainly growing up? This is scary, not that age wise. I guess it’s just a phase. It reaches a time in life when you realize you have too much potential that your current situation has confined you. I think am in that phase. I am an outdoor person. I love adventure and new challenges. For the past three years, I have taken an 8am to 5 pm job . I was fresh out of school and needed to pay bills and draft the next phase of my life. I don’t have the campus-work-marriage kind of dreams. I always have to fix exploration and adventure everywhere. I hate being tied down to a repetitive routine but at times; there is nothing much I wanted to do about it. However, turning 25 might have changed things a little bit. I am more aware of my choices, ambitions and dreams. I am learning to challenge myself and go for what I want.

IMG_20150509_120701Previously, I was afraid of my workmates learning the free spirit being I am. I recoiled into a cocoon of solitude and pretense just for the fear of being judged. I never put in mind that actually, there might be nobody minding my business. So why keep on hiding? What or who was I running from? Was I being chased by a shadow of my own, fear of the unknown and pessimism of my insecurities? On discovery 254 that currently runs on NTV, Edith Kimani once said that we are afraid to tell ourselves that, you know what, that was good. This especially happens to women. But, in the first place, are we bold enough to go for what we want? Most of the times, it is, never an option.

I can hardly recall days I have walked into my Managers office to ask for an opportunity. Yes I have gotten some of what I wanted but none through asking. I have taken up tasks to render the management with no option but to let me run with it. But I guess I have let pass of many opportunities I would have excelled in just because I feared asking. It may seem surprising to those who know me that I totally freak out when I have to face some people plus I am super shy. The fact that I have grown up fighting for me has taught me to fight when need arises but many more times have I let myself down by not speaking. I fear fighting when I think I may end up just hurting myself .I have shelved my ideas, preferences and wants to give priority to those I care about . Not always has it been rosy, or a selfless act. Some of these decisions I have made have adversely affected me but I just won’t speak .

Some people I have met, like Paras Gudka , the founder of westlands Chess club , have inspired me to try new things but I have always held back . Paras is a photographer and when time came to let go of the club and follow his passion, he did. Though he still blogs about Chess, I don’t think I have any courage to let go of any of my baby projects. I still wonder how he did it. How do people know when it’s time to follow your heart? I get scared at the thought of wadding unknown waters. I have these thoughts that the waves will wash me away, completely erase the evidence of my existence and shove me rock bottom, never to surface again. I tell myself that I am wrong but why have I not taken the initiative to disappoint my fears?

I fear writing down what I dream of, for the fear of looking at them with uttermost regret when I can’t achieve them. Don’t get me wrong, I know the power of writing your dreams somewhere, even God himself wrote down the Ten Commandments! So today , I resolve to

  1. Write down all I want to do/achieve
  2. Ask for opportunities
  3. Fight (not Physically ) for my seat at the table
  4. Work hard for the chances I deserve ( I also welcome what I don’t deserve but have been blessed with)
  5. Commit all the above to the Lord