Me

I am a woman, a film producer, a sister, a daughter, and a girlfriend.

I tell myself that I can write, and the world seems to agree with me- the part of the world that read me anyway. I write my thoughts, some of which might note make sense. Scratch that. Most of which.

I live with the most incredible man; the best thing that has ever happened to me is having him in my life. We have two suicidal cats, Biggie and Blackie. Suicidal as they are always jumping off the window of our 3rd floor apartment. Biggie likes to remind us how much we love him by running away to the same house...we always find him.

I am obsessed with House MD and think Hustle is the most creative show.

I listen to anything that calls itself music.

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The Goodbye - Tribute to Lydia Nyakweba

I did not know about the missing KQ flight until my b/f called me. And when he told me that it had gone missing over Cameroon, my mind backtracked. A couple of weeks before he left, we went out to listen to rock at Zeep one Wednesday.

It was one of those days when you bump into people you have not seen in ages, and you get amazed by how much time has passed and how people have not changed. That day alone, I had bumped into 3 of my high school classmates. To culminate my evening, I met one girl that I had not seen since we finished our exams, close to 7 years ago. Now, she is the kind of people one never forgets. She was tall for her age when we enrolled in Form one. She was put in our class on that first day. And on that very first day as high school students, she made us laugh so much, our class made history as being the only class to have gotten a punishment on their FIRST DAY at school!! But our class was different. Nicely different. It was class Form 1 K, and went head to be the most notorious, the rowdies, the brightest and the fun- est class – Class of 2000. The same girl, made me learn the whole of Peter André's 'Mysterious Girl' because we had to present something during Junior Talent show.

That girl I did not see until after 7 years. Almost a month ago.

She walked up to my table, tapped me on the shoulder, and when I looked up, I was excited. It was nice to see her again. Was nice to catch up. We talked about our lives since school, and she had, a few months earlier, gotten a job at Kenya Airways as a flight attendant. She had been on Domestic flights but moved to Francophone-Africa. She had, she said, seen me twice at the airport at the domestic flight departure lounge, but had been too occupied to say hi to me. We exchanged numbers and said goodbye. And that was as much a goodbye I would ever get to say to her.

When I heard about the KQ flight, I remembered her. But then I thought; what are the odds? She could not possibly have been among them. But when the names were released, it was a blow. Lydia Nyakweba was one of the flight attendants. And one more person, Shantabell Wakhu. Shanta was two years ahead of me in high school. Was in a group of seniors we called the 'Terror Squad'. She had the most beautiful legs despite her being one of the terrorizers of the form ones. Looking back, that was high school. People who knew her from theatre say she was a sweet girl. Me, I remember being scared of being in the same room with her.

I got a text on Saturday morning from a former classmate. Class of 2000 was meeting in town then proceeding to Lydia's home. I do not usually leave the house on Saturdays but this day, I had to. I met almost all my former classmates. It was a great feeling, despite the circumstances. I could not help, however but marvel at how tragedy brings people together. How all past grudges are put aside to deal with that one issue.

But at the same time, the other side of the glass being half empty, I could still see the pretentiousness. The being there because you want to see, you want to be seen, you want to analyze how the rest have turned out. the feeling that they are still better than the rest of us who went through the same system for four years, same classes, same teachers, same tortures and same homework. I could see that group of people that still think they are way better or maybe cut out for more than being in the same room with everyone else. It broke my heart with the same intensity it disgusted me.

But it was a day to remember Lydia, and I put all those aside and looked back at the four years we spent together. And I wondered, did she ever, a one point during those four years, think that she would not live to see her 25th birthday? If she knew that that would be the case, what would she have done differently? Did she accomplish the major things she wanted to have done by the time she clocked 23?

It might seem a bit selfish, but I sat there looking at he picture on a table at their house, I asked myself - If I'll never live to see 25, what do I want to do differently? How will I live so that if my end is then, I will leave the people in my life saying that- she lived a life well lived? That my friends will look back and not talk about the promising future I had, but about what kind a full life I lived?

To Lydia: You were the flower that He loved most in his garden. That is why he picked you.

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Selfish Bastard!!

I have always considered my self to be one forgiving person. DVP says he knows no matter how angry I am - I get over it 5 minutes later and usually, he is right. True, I find it hard to stay angry. It's like when I get angry, I get into this dark world inside of me, torturous and very unearthly. I hate being angry, but as I write this I'm fucking pissed.

Why I am pissed? I'm pissed at men. Men who are selfish, egotistic and self centered (probably I've just outlined the same character in three words…) you get the point though. I was talking to my ex boyfriend the other day, and it hit me – he is one of those. Now, I'm not going on about this because he is my ex. No. I loved him then and I did not see past my infatuation. As all women do, I saw of him what I wanted him to be and I cannot blame him. Fault is all on me, I'm the one who dated him, after all.

I am a strong woman, very independent. Been working since I was 17 years old and by 19, I was teaching Information Technology to students my fathers' age. Now, I'm 23 years old, and a Production Manager of one of the biggest Film Production companies in Africa. By the time my ex was done with me, I did not think I was that great woman anymore. I even doubted my sexuality. Now, for those who know me, I am the type of woman who fully exploits my sensual sexuality. I never wear polo-necked, as a principle. I have great boobs, and I don't ever hide them and I'm never afraid to say it. I love sex, enjoy it and I think an orgasm is the best thing ever to happen to humankind (and pigs). No once in that whole relationship did I experience that. Why? Was a frigid?

No.

I am the kind of girl that gets wet just by thinking about sex. I would get wet just looking at him!! And he took advantage of that. There was never foreplay. Let me not say never, there was, which was basically him inserting his fingers to see if I was really wet enough. Which reminds me, the last time we met (Dec 2006), he told me that his then girlfriend (the 2nd one after breaking up with me in Oct 2006) could not get wet. I was so tempted to point out to him why that was, but I figured, I should not be so open, especially since he was soooooo in love. One thing that gets me in trouble is my honesty. Quite I few times I have said things that should have otherwise be left unsaid.
Few months later, he got bored. Now, this is what happened with his first g/f, me, the girl after me, the girl after the girl after me. Now he has a new g/f. and I pity her. Why? Because he is the kind of guy who gets bored. The kind of guy who says he wants a strong independent woman and then turns back and says that she is pushy and he can never say no to her. And whose fault is that I ask? You want a strong woman yet you are not string enough to handle her. Paradoxes!

So why I'm pissed? (this also means angry in Kenya)

Because he is gonna fuck up every woman that he meets. He is the kind of guy who will never take you on a holiday unless it has something to do with him working. No, he cannot spend his money on a holiday unless he is getting something from m it. Go figure what kind of a lover he is. He is the kind of guy who you will give a massage and when he is all done, he says he can't give you one coz that will make his muscles all tense again!! His g/f wants to go to school far way. He is thinking of telling her to wait a while coz of their relationship. He wants her to postpone it for one year coz if she moves away to school; their r/ship will suffer. Now, they will be separated by a 2 hour flight or less. Well, as you know, he would never fly there to see her. Now, there are men who I know I would let any other woman drop he life for, but not this one. I pity her. He thought it was a great idea for me to quit my job and work with him, when he broke up, he says he did not ask me to quit my job. Maybe, Maybe not. Now as I listened to him talk about her, I was taken back to when we had the same conversation about us. About me making more money with him than I was making, and the opportunity I had with him, and my heart ached for that poor woman. And any other woman who meets that type of man.

I never knew how true the saying that women should try and find out what happened in their boyfriends' last r/ship since it gives them a base on theirs, until I broke up with him. And I realized that he is always going to be that way. If his getting bored had happened with one woman, then that could be excused. But 4 women!!! I seriously doubt if it was the women's fault when such a figure is presented. All of them ranged from waitresses, to IT consultant, to Production Manager and many more. He told me he is scared of commitment once we broke up. And I thought. Gee, thanks, for letting me know. But don't you think this is the sort of information you should have told me when we met?????????

Well, it's done, some woman is going to get hurt soon and there is nothing we can do about it. Such is that nature of life.

And once again, another woman will hurt, hate herself and hope that she will have the courage to love again, if her self esteem is not so down trodden.

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