Dear Love

Now that Ian’s love for Doris died (or maybe he was just pretending – he never loved Doris), why don’t we pick up from where he left? You get what I’m saying? No? Never mind.

It’s 2:49 a.m as I write this, my love. The night is gracefully dying away, if floods decided they would sweep away the whole apartment and nobody would realize. Warthogs are dead asleep, mosquitoes too have started retreating to their households after a very long day of hustle without food (I stole one of my mom’s mosquito nets over the Dec holiday and I’ve been protected ever since), the only sound in my room is the laptop motherboard’s, moans of an aroused girlfriend the next door have since ceased… as in I’m the only living creature still awake this side, and that’s because of you, love.

My love, I’m tired. Wait! Is Mrs. Achman fine with you? I think it’s way tooo long and old for a young beautiful flower like you. Look, who on earth calls their girlfriend “Mrs. Achman”? Come on, imagine referring to Obama’s wife as Mrs. Michelle Obama. Doesn’t sound right, ama? Ok, sorry for bothering you so much. You know you are the cappuccino in my cup of cappuccino, trust me if I were to choose between a thousand Kgs of gold and you, I’d settle for gold, of course I’d then trade it and come for you so we enjoy the money together (1000Kgs of gold! Oh Lood!). Yes. So how I refer to you means a lot to me. But I think let’s just drop the ‘Mrs’ and call you Achman (don’t mind the man in it).

So Achman, my love, as I was saying, I’m tired. Tired of scrubbing the hell out of sufurias that cooked ugali the previous night, tired of washing my boxers (it’s not like if you washed them you’d die of gonorrhea or that it’d be scribbled on your face that YOU CLEANED GEORGE’S UNDIES), I’m tired of frequenting Baraka Rescue or Mkulima for chapos, I need chapos made by you though if you still wouldn’t make kick ass tasty chapattis the way I like, I’d still find my way into those joints for the same. I am tired my love, there’s nobody to look me in the eye and tell me ‘I love you George’, I have nobody to wear my oversize t-shirts in the house and make me fried eggs. I have nobody to do that, my love.

My love, you see, the other day I walked into a friend’s house, then after his chic had served pilau, I realized it wasn’t that tasty and I couldn’t hide it. So I told them in their face that his chic doesn’t know how to cook. They kicked me out and locked themselves in the house. I am yet to return their spoon. Though I yearn to see you so we can also do the same to unappreciative silly fellas, I hope the kitchen is not one of those places you apply guess works, love.

Girls are warning their boys against walking with me because they think I’m bad company. I don’t feel good about it. It’s not like I am bad company as they think, the truth is I am lonely and bitter. I need you here my love. I need you.

Oh! By the way, I am tall and handsome, well, my mom says I’m handsome. But si you all know moms are only there to give us hope – if I were all those qualities wouldn’t I be taken by now? What I’m sure about is that I have beautiful beards. You love Joho’s? You’d love mine even better. I comb and attend to them as frequent as girls check views of their WhatsApp statuses. Ok, I am over-­describing myself now. To prove what I’m telling you, feel free to peruse through my photos, you can visit my Instagram handle and follow me. I am not on snapchat cause that could be Ezekiel Mutua’s next visit. Guy is changing KFCB into a revenue collection organ. But you see what, my love? If you were in Australia and requested to see me, I’d sell every other thing that I ever owned just to board a flight and come  see you. That’s how serious I love you.

My love, it’s now 3:57 AM and I feel sleepy. But at least I’m now at ease cause I believe this will reach you. I’ve heard stories of some people’s ribs used to make soup, I know mine wasn’t… I know you are out there .

Sincerely, I miss you my love. So much. Hope to hear from you soon. Even if you don’t reply, I will not tire from writing to you.

I love you. XOXO

 

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Achman is a Co founder - Creatives Kenya. Studied journalism and does a gazillion things. In descent places people know him as George Achoka. Email achoka@creativeskenya.com Get him on Twitte here:

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