A stroll

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There’s a skill I’m yet to learn. How to keep writing even in tragedy. How to not procrastinate even if all your physical and emotional muscles are begging you to. It’s been a tough two weeks. But I’m back.
I’m back.


I left my phone.
I needed a selfish moment from people and pets and things and life.
Phone calls and texts. Needs and wants.
I craved to be absent from them. At least for some time.
So I opened the door to see where the wind would take me.

I’d been in pajamas all day, a side effect of working from home.
Yes, I had them on the previous night. Insert disapproving look here.
Being home alone requires no decency.
The task ahead, however, needed some.

I rummaged through my dirty hamper for yesterday’s jeans and a t-shirt.
The t-shirt had been wiping my wet feet for the last three days when I leave the shower.
I learned this in boarding school. Don’t use a towel, that wipes everything else, to wipe the feet too.
It made sense then, so I carried the lesson forward.
I can’t tell you where I got my socks from but you can glean from this, that I had just read Mark Manson’s book.

On my to the highway, I met with a lone monkey, scrimping for goodness knows what in a baren garden.
It sat up and stared at me, we briefly played the ‘who’ll run first’ game. SMH, these local monkeys, they are not fond of women, but I was determined to be triumphant.
So I marched on, chest forward, head high, and not showing that I could pee on on myself if it jumped on me.
I won.
I’m sure on account of my dirty hamper ensemble and unkempt hair. I looked unstable.
I think it knows not to mess with an unstable woman.

I adopted the wedding stroll once on the main road.
There was no one waiting for me to and fro. So I figured, why not?
Placing one foot, exactly after the other.
Walking so slow I might as well not.
I love this type of pace, the purposeless in it is soothing.

I ran into a ‘hyena’ a kilometer in.
It looked like it hadn’t had a meal in months.
Gobbling my sight up like you would a sizzling steak.
I wanted to run but that would have given it power, so I chose to keep pace, sending a message of no fear.
Besides, I was in a winning mood.
It went away. But not before asserting its existence.
Calling me unclean names and attempting to touch.
It had its limits though, scrimpy as they were.
Or my unchanged pace, made it think harder than it had been.
Either way, I won. Again

I triumphed past the bus stop.
With a halted bus offloading the last of its day’s trip.
Women with crying children having been dragged to their work all day.
Men with bags under their eyes and worries in their hearts.
Today could have been better, tomorrow carries hope.

The bridge looked like as good a destination as any to pause.
It always has been.
So I stood on it. Right below the lane of cars coming from under me.
If you look sharply beneath, you’ll feel as though the cars will pass with you.
I love that feeling of weightlessness.

I counted cars while waiting for the big event.
A motorbike zoomed past, bragging of its speed.
Another trotted behind it, laden with a year’s worth of water.
It looked like it’d topple over.
I watched it until it disappeared behind the curved road.
Sending a prayer with it, hope it stays upright.

I wondered about the owners of the various boxes on wheels.
Where were they headed?
Where were they from?
Were they chasing dreams or running from them?
I stood watching the golden yellow ball, with hues of red in an ocean of blue.
Damn, I shouldn’t have left my phone.
If only to capture the beauty of my words or snap aways the sights.

On my way home, I passed a skating park.
It doubles over as a dance park.
Sometimes it’s just a park that’s not really a park but a dejected road.
Bearing broken promises of construction but adopted by the neighboring kids.
The kids there won. The government lost, not surprised.

The day was getting old.
So people were rushing home.
Hawkers packing up what’s left of their sweat.
Shops turning lights on, just to prolong the day
Hungry faces looking forward to hot meals
Tired bodies, the bed.
I strolled past them.
Back to my box.
Eager for another set of pajamas.
Sleep and repeat.