'Kaburi la Sahau Button'

By
Photo:Internet
By Wakini Kuria
Technology is yet to bring me the much needed 'delete' button for selected memories. You know, where you open Folder 'Mendula Oblongata', highlight a few files and delete them permanently. SHIFT + DEL + ENTER and Pap! You are over and done with. For life!

Memories of people, instances, circumstances and things that may have in the past injured your ego, hurt, embarrassed you and/or others but have refused to die with time.

Waves of remembrance keeps flickering with the slightest of provocation changing your moods instantly.

Suddenly at some memory you want to crawl under the bed and never to come out. You want to switch off the lights and stay in the darkness forever where nobody can see you. You want to hide behind masks in public, the sunglasses aren't enough cover and again the sun doesn't shine forever.

Another memory sees your face turn red in anger, clouding your face in near tears fists held tight ready to crack open some jaw or just giving in to that strong urge of hurling the glass on the wall breaking it into a million pieces. Poor glass! Little comfort it gives and wonder as you sweep the broken pieces away.

Another trigger brings in another memory. Blushing, you glance about and around watching  if somebody caught you in your naked moment. Phew! Luckily, no one. Hereby you thank goodness that people are yet to start reading minds. Its not so cool to know that people know you are thinking tabia mbaya. Lol

Another thought crosses your mind. You are now smiling to yourself.  Its a good memory. Something good happened. Made you happy. You even wish to relive the moment. You want to cherish and maybe share it forever! You keep this file in folder 'Favourites'

Please, somebody make me that button!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Matatu operators be the best now. Don't you agree?

By
Image
By Charity Kuria  Why! They take you places...you tour places you otherwise wouldn't have in your miserable routine. They change the scene for you on your way to and from work when they use panya routes to evade the traffic jam. He will use that road you've always wondered where it leads to and that free ride inside that estate you've always admired from hearsay...at no extra fee! They engage you in humuor through their (foul) language and will crack jokes that will leave you smiling if not laughing like crazy. The makanga sometimes forgets(intentionally) to give back the change. Please humbly remind him before you alight. The driver will sometimes give you a ride further than you intended please ask him to shukisha and remember to say thank you! Courtesy demands it. The makanga will ogle at you as you enter the vehicle calling you all those beautiful names sometimes to your dismay he might be tempted to touch to the amusement of others. Please kind
Keep reading

Ladies at the gents

By
Image
By Charity Kuria  I joined the debate club for the sole purpose of gaining public speaking skills but mostly to fight stage fright, having had a double take on the public speaking class without much progress. So on this particular day, the debate club had attended a training forum at USIU courtesy of Kenya National Debate Council headed by one Josiah Adiema Adiema. We all agree that USIU is a posh higher learning institution. The workshop was held at the magnificent library where to access the facilities you had to swipe using the school ID. Being from a different institution our host put in a good word for us and hence could access the washrooms for instance. The training went on well and was soon over. We decided to tour the campus and perhaps grab a bite as it was already in the afternoon. You know how it is when you are a bunch of newbies and hating the idea of asking for directions. Cafeterias aren't hard to locate especially if hungry. Some of us had
Keep reading

THIS DIGITAL GENERATION

By
Image
By Charity Kuria It’s no longer possible for the elderly to tell folk tales to their grandchildren. Nowadays grandchildren hardly ever visit upcountry because grandma and grandpa are now tucked in some place dubbed ‘the home for the old’ Slowly as you sit under a shade of tree watching a colleague wrestle glasses unto their face some distance away the memories come crashing in. That rainy morning when the bundle of joy was finally, brought home. How everybody crowded to just have a look at the little someone hidden somewhere between the shawls or just hold the baby even if for a short while. Having waited for this important little person for nine good months and marveling at the sweet baby scent emaciating from the shawls. During the first weeks there were only anxious guesses on the sex of the child. Everyone wishing inwardly let it be a boy/girl according to their preferences. Soon the little chap is walking and calling mama. Then he stands at the door and wave
Keep reading