Love has made me a fool…a sheep, full of wool. I cannot help to marvel at my romantic escapades since I was a little boy. I mean, I begun this stuff a long time ago, so unknowingly. No time ever has dad nor mum nor both taken to steal me any form of advice on how I ought to handle a girl. The closest either of them has come is by complaining to me about the other. I bet they assumed the world would teach me, and taught me it has. What I know about love today, I don’t know how my parents would have put it across to me. But perhaps they just live in a different world. They’ve been through it all. Yes, I have seen scenes of a couple hurling each other on the walls of their sitting room, battling for a chance to punch one another with loveless blows, holding knives in anger, barking out unprintable words in expression of how they felt about themselves and their partner. And no, they were no movies. They happened right in front of my naked innocent eyes.
It goes without question that any such form of drama sticks in a child’s mind for the rest of his life, and I am no exception. I grew up with a lot of fear and bitterness, choosing to create a world inside me because there was no atmosphere conducive enough for me to pour my problems and boy concerns verbally. It made me a quiet boy, and to date, a quiet man. Then, I had a very low self-esteem, was shy to girls and felt very uncomfortable sitting next to one at the age of 12. Maybe it was the adolescence creeping in. I hear people act differently at this stage of their lives. Mine was then a very difficult one.
At six years of age, I liked a girl called Vena. She was a year older than me(oh no!). She liked me too. Our parents would joke that they were in-laws, and believe me, some of these things seem real to a child as I grew up believing that she was the girl I would marry. But I grew up and we moved to another place. Our contact faded off. Vena had two older sisters, who once in a while got naughty with me…how do I explain that? But anyway, yes, something like that. I was this sweet boy they liked in the plot that no play would be hot if I wasn’t in it. I was the only child in our house then, and getting that sort of attention just made me tick. 1996.
The next time I was close to a girl was four years later. My parents were going through a lot of problems and sometimes I found myself living with a family friend. We kept on moving from place to place. That’s why I can’t remember many of my childhood friends. I kept on being a new face for so many times. And that happened to schools too. See, my dad was a teacher and he took me with him wherever he found greener pastures.
2000. The new millennium begun. I was a pupil at Makini School. Class 6. There was this girl at home I had a crush on. Everlyn. I won’t say her second name. :-)…, but I’ve always had a thing for Kikuyu girls. Hahaha! I have dated several. I will live to remember how mum gave me a handsome beating on unmasking this love letter I had drafted to Everlyn on the eve of Valentine’s Day that year. I had hidden it in my mathematical set, the last place I had imagined mum would reach. I never really won Everlyn’s affection anyway. I was too shy to approach her, and to add to the insult, I was competing for her attention with another boy, ironically a good friend of mine. But she eventually chose none of us. Perhaps an act of wisdom. I don’t know what it was. But I’ve come to realize that we boys are really foolish when young …and some of us unfortunately never grow up. We only grow old …until it is too late.
A year later, I couldn’t stand to watch Waithera’s heart being torn into shreds by a ‘hard’ Brian in front of the class. They washed their dirty linen in the young public that lay amazed, and perhaps amused too at the not so familiar images that unfolded in their wake by sheer surprise. Brian was a talkative boy, short and witty. He was but a defender in the class soccer team in which I was the captain. We were pretty tight buddies, and I wasn’t really at smiles with how he humiliated Waithera, throwing her books all over the class in the glare of our classmates in a lesson which the teacher was absent. I wonder what made him be that cold irrespective of how mad he must have been at her, maybe to make news. I don’t know. I wonder if he still remembers this melee, though we have never met since completing primary school in 2002.
Two weeks after the incident, something happened. Yes, and you’ll have to stick your nose around here to know what it was.
We’re just getting started …