In the heart of a bustling city, an unlikely pair found solace in each other. A sleek, ginger cat named Oliver and a tiny, gray rat named Luna shared a bond that defied expectations. One sunny afternoon, as they strolled through a park, Oliver spotted an ice cream vendor. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he suggested a treat.
To everyone’s surprise, Luna agreed. Hand in hand, the duo enjoyed their frozen delights, a testament to the power of friendship, no matter how different the participants may seem.
After their ice cream indulgence, Oliver and Luna decided to explore a nearby pathway. As they ventured deeper into the narrow passage, they stumbled upon a group of stray cats huddled together for warmth. The cats were visibly hungry and shivering.
Without hesitation, Oliver and Luna returned to the ice cream vendor and purchased more treats. With their newfound generosity, they shared the ice cream with their newfound friends, fostering a sense of community and compassion among the strays.
The other day, I went to the market to buy okra. I think the hype about okra’s health benefits on social media was growing. I don’t like going to the market because it’s not always a pleasant experience for me. Before I knew it, someone accidentally stepped on my toe. Ouch! My poor toe – I had already hurt the same toe the day before while cleaning the house.
“Ma’am, I have the latest design in town,” he tried to woo me in a manner that disgusted me.
Worse still his hat made him look like a clown. I gave him a sharp stare, then withdrew my hand quickly.
“Hey, don’t be so arrogant. I know you haven’t been tested for HIV,” he said with a loud laugh.
His statement baffled me. I walked past him with an attitude that suggested I didn’t take his words seriously.”
All this time, I had safely tucked my Samsung S24 Ultra into the waistband of my skirt. I also had my purse tucked in on the left side. The atmosphere of the market filled me with fear. As I entered the market, I bought some sandals from the first vendor to relieve my feet after a long day at work. I knew I needed to be well-prepared for the hectic market environment. Suddenly, a guy hit me with a heavy load. Although he didn’t say anything, his whistle served as a warning before he quickly moved away.
“Can you model somewhere else?” The remarks came from a nearby vendor. Damn, this was enough for a crazy Monday. The market was packed to the brim. I wished I could step aside and watch the whole market madness from a distance. At this point, I only needed to make several turns to reach where the Okra vendors were located. Sadly, I was losing hope of ever getting there.
It was a great relief when I finally reached the market exit. However, I had one more interaction with the guy who had carried my shopping bag. I reached for my purse and handed him Ksh 50.
“Why do you act so mean, ma’am?” His remarks followed me as I crossed the road.
When I was young, I was scared of the storm. The fear made my childhood difficult. Like any other child, I enjoyed the scent of wet soil but at the same time disliked the rain. I grew up in a village, and the memories are still vivid. Sometimes I would be sent to places within the village but away from our home. If it rained on that day, it led to the worst experiences of my life.
I had always been told that lightning could strike baobab trees. I grew up in a semi-arid area where these trees were plentiful. Whenever I walked past a baobab tree, I would sprint like the Jamaican runner Usain Bolt because I believed that was the day the baobab tree would be struck by lightning. I wish my mother had considered the fact that I hated storms.
Surprisingly, I still fear storms today, even though I am older. They make me feel vulnerable. I have sleepless nights if it rains at night. My son can’t understand this; he says I should have outgrown that fear already. It’s even worse if the rain is accompanied by a storm. Fortunately, I’ve developed a strategy to deal with my fear. Right after the thunder strikes, I usually count to seven. If I manage to count to seven, I take a long sigh of relief. It’s a sign that the storm is far away.
Whenever I only manage to count to four, I hold my breath, waiting for the loud strike. It’s a terrifying experience! I live on a hill, so during rainy nights, I wake up to watch the water rushing by my window. I sometimes wish I could control nature and have wild thoughts like using a TV remote to stop the rain. Ironically, I also want the rain for my garden, but the fear it brings makes my stomach flutter.
Today, my thoughts are unstable. I can’t honestly tell what is eating me up. I kept on thinking about this and then about that. Infact I couldn’t get hold of my thoughts. This is absurd, right? Suddenly, my emotions changed from worse to worst! I think I should take writing seriously. Right now after this short piece I feel a relieve!
Tuvi's Space 