Do you ever have naughty thoughts? Yeah? Me too.
I always find myself devising ways to steal chapattis after they have been cooked and carefully packed in the hotpot. It’s always a challenge especially when your mom busts you with hot chapatti in your mouth and you star dancing around like my chanting rainmaking ancestors. When I was young, that dance was always followed by a really nasty beating with these red slippers my mom owned.
My beatings as a child usually varied with the crime I had committed and sometimes from the way my mom talked, I swear you’d have thought I was on some FBI watch list. So, as I’m sitting here, something interesting came to me and I decided to write it down. I’ve always been a clumsy girl. I have marks on my body from tripping on things and falling, to stepping on broken glass I had broken and tried to cover up from my mom to some really weird ones I have no idea of their genesis.
As a kid, my mom always tells me that I was afraid of this particular old woman and each time I saw her I would cry like a baby. Wait, I was a baby. Anyway, moving on to a totally unrelated story, one day around the time I was being potty trained by mom, I don’t know what happened but I was throwing a tantrum. I’ve always had a fair for the dramatic but insist that I am the least dramatic person in the whole wide world! Where was I? Crying, yes I was crying and all because of something that happened and mom doesn’t remember and then suddenly I had to take a shit.
I don’t know if the tears made me hallucinate or maybe I was just high on something but instead of sitting on my potty (potty is that little plastic thing kids take shits in btw) I sat on my mother’s stove. I can’t remember at all how it felt or even it happening but I imagine my poor ass saw a few hot days- literally! So, as I grew up and began checking myself out in the onset of adolescence, I noticed I had a big black spot on my ass and after asking my mom randomly one day she told me that story.
As my ass outgrew it Kikuyu expectations, I grew bigger and before adolescence, came my tomboy stage- I think! I wouldn’t say my childhood was Barbie and rainbows but I have some epic memories of people I hope outgrew their child faces. I’m not saying they were ugly, I’m just saying one of us had really thin teeth that were almost all black and when she smiled, she looked like something out of a bad teeth movie. You know like the tooth fairy was abducted by thin charcoal people who had taken over the tooth castle and decided everything would look thin, black and creepy. Anyway, that’s not where the story lies, this one time I had been playing with these group of boys and the only one I remember was called Kevin, I think so, my mom didn’t quite like them or something.
Before she left that day, I remember she was wearing something red, she told me not to try and go play with Kev and Co. at stage, which I guess was our new fascination. Like the little good girl I was, I agreed not to dare go play anywhere near the stage. As soon as mom was out of the door, I was also out of the door. And we both know that there is no way I was going to not go to stage. I met up with Kev and Co. and we went to stage and ‘hang out’ then timed the late afternoon when we knew our parents would be getting back home and set off to go home.
So, my mom gets home and she is like “Ulienda stage leo”? I looked up at her, face all pokered up and said, “Hapana, tulicheza tu hapa nje ya plot.” Looking back now, lying was probably not a good idea because as it turns out, my mommy was at stage the whole time watching me play my way to an as whooping I would never forget. What happened? Well first, she told me to remove all my clothes and go away from her house. Then, after my clothes were off and I was turning to leave, she asked me where I was going? In my little head I was probably like, woman you just told me to leave! Then she gave me a beating that should earn her an Oscar by the way. Imagine yourself ass naked and a red Bata PatiPati dropping on your body like it’s hot. It was literally one of those moments you cry so hard to a point where the tears just stop flowing and the sounds of agony can’t even come out anymore.
Your body is low-key adapting to the pain, your tear and scream ducts have gone on an unofficial strike and you just stand there looking at your mother looking at you looking at her whooping you like the Oscar went to some other mom whose kid did not commit a felony a great as yours!
I loved to take a dramatic shit as a kid, the stove hurt my butt, I loved to not obey my mom as a kid, she hurt my naked everything!
In short, I think love is pain!
Happy Valentines though!