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ANGST PART II

BY  WANJIKU .C. N

I have been folding my legs and my hands have been resting on my cheeks, vexed. I thought this rough road could be smooth the moment I tasted love, but I was wrong. I had missed an important point, that the end of one predicament is the beginning of another. I wish my life ended just there, where I smiled. I have no job. I have no money. I want to die  now, before the twilight. I don’t know why, but I imagine the world of the departed is better. Let me just vanish. If I owned a gun I would not be here. I would  be elsewhere doing other things that make no one happy or unhappy. Here, I am not contented. It’s ridiculous how my life turns tables. That at any one time there is always something to cry about and  nothing to laugh about. A smile is expensive, very expensive for Nicole. But I know one thing: I am here for a mission that I have to accomplish. Vaginismus gave me restless nights. Now unemployment has taken the helm. Are these the devils’ assistants changing duties? Where has my angel of wealth gone? Or am I being followed by the spirits of poverty of my ancestors?

Life here is bittersweet and  difficult, calling for charity organizations to give a hand. The most affected are children, who toil alongside their mothers to get food for dinner. Here, children’s rights are not known. Everyone has many children; kids here are not seen as liabilities but assets for the future. What the child gets now is not important as long as in future they will turn to be responsible doctors, teachers and  lawyers,  just like I was. But what can we do without the legal tender? Nothing. Zilch. No wonder there is a black market, and the level of felony is sky rocketing. The society’s invisible hands hover in the minds of its people to condemn those who are of different families, religion, politics and the like.

But Nicole prefers to be different. Money is the common denominator in life, for it makes possible the enjoyment of the best the earth affords. With it I can do everything, without it I can do nothing.  I definitely need money I have to be rich, maybe not now. I do not want to kneel and destroy my morals and principles. Having no money does not mean I am poor. I am not ailing yet, but my life is passing through my fingers like water simply because of the money factor. Certainly there is a package I am looking for towards great wealth. But the question remains, will I find it in this life?

Nicole looks anomalous to every eyeball since she has decided to step aside. No one is calling her mama. People cease their business in town just to stare at her. She knows nothing about it.  Should I tell her? No. It’s not a good idea.  But she cannot even take care of herself.  How can she take care of an extra mouth? She looks comfortable just the way she is. She flips back to herself and remembers the epistle she wrote before she was born. Nicole is keen not to make the same mistake as her mama did. Why was I born after all? To live in this unforgiving world? It must have been a slip-up. No money, no man. What am I waiting for here? I need money to pay house rent, to eat and for leisure. I have nothing. But am not losing confidence, one day I will be wealthy. I want to live in the best town house, drive the finest car and own the best gentleman. I will not rest. I will work day and night.  I will not go round the city begging for employment not any more, and I refuse to be seen round the streets doing nothing. Last week I went to estates looking for a house, all the houses were costly and I could not afford them. Today is Sunday. I am in the house just alone. I cried at the crack of dawn just because I don’t have a job,. I cannot afford to go out or invite my friends for one reason, money! I lay on my tiny divan and burst into tears, upset with my self. My sheets were soaked.. The man in charge is already suspicious about my life.  I am sure that he would like to pry in to my private life

I sent my application of fifth September 2000, but  just like the rest I had no confidence in it. I knew I could not get the job. But at the end of the same month, I received a call inviting me for an interview. At the interview the following Monday,  the four panelists amazed me with the large digit they mentioned. Three days later, the job was mine. I was delighted I told almost every one that I had a job. But the flower lost its scent faster than I expected.  I was  not happy with my duties.

It was on a Tuesday, after attending to the first group of clients I sat waiting for my next group. Although I was in a church, I was afraid someone may harass me but I kept the fear at bay. I took a book of one of my favourite writers Gibran Kahlil (the prophet) and started reading. it was so awe inspiring that I forgot my worries. After the second group, I went outside and watched the slopes of the God forsaken Mathare slums. The sight made me tears stream down my well groomed face, washing away my makeup. Residents here live in filthy state. . The face of poverty in these areas is naked and screams for help. I felt like giving my own personal help but I have not been blessed with that mighty wealth. I feed insecure just walking from the stage to the church . I wished my employer felt the same and he could send me a helper to keep me company in this place. My heart froze when I heard a voice. “How are you?” it said. I almost fainted. I turned, only to find the the church guard standing behind me.  I hurriedly picked up my handbag and left the church. I took a matatu to my next destination. On the way, I saw a heap of vile smelling garbage amidst the small aand tightly packed shanties and I wondered whether people really lived there. I walked along looking at the ‘shops’ wondering whether businesses were actually open or it was people’s homes. I was now in a neighboring estate. Life here was not any better. Small businesses line the road,  Selling tomatoes, onions, bananas, potatoes, cabbages and small eateries. There is nowhere to lean even after a long walk in my white immaculate skirt, it turned brown so first but I did not mind the dirt. It is better to be stung by a wasp than to be stung by poverty. People work so hard but remain poor. In the slums I could hardly move two steps without seeing a shop. In the up market areas there are hardly any shops residents go to malls in the city center. I am waiting for a day when I will walk in slums and say they used to be. It is all possible only that there is no political will. It is sad that these problem cuts across Africa. Why Africa? My dear sisters and brothers, until when shall we be given medicine while our necks are tightly held. Micro finances are as many as there are poor people. I strongly believe that they will be the ultimate solution we have been looking for to alleviating poverty. Only this two entrepreneurship and micro finance together with a willing heart and hard working people is possible to gun down poverty.

I did not take breakfast that morning, and even worse I failed to attend a very important meeting. I went to the salon because I had a date at 1530hrs, which I had skipped the previous day, when I went to the salon where I spent more time than I expected. However, I gave assured him that even though I will be late, I will go. Immediately after leaving the salon, I went home to freshen up. Without wasting any time I left the house to my date. My date changed the venue as soon as I arrived. We took a matatu and went to a place I did not know. I crossed my fingers all the way assuming every thing will be fine. The stroll was long and exhausting, I wondered where I was being taken but did not want to question him. We passed through the stunning apartments down to the Kibera shacks. I had never been there before. We walked to a one roomed mud house and the path was rocky. We had to go down big rocks I thought I was on a hike again at Mt Longonot. But no, we were in the heart of Kibera slums. On the way, we saw a woman seated outside her mud house and it was clearwas clear she had no idea how she could get supper that night. I continued down the rocks with my man. I was in sandals and I had a bad time going down this valley of dark filthy water and human waste scattered all over. All this time I had no clue where I was being taken. I was praying hard in my heart that he was not going to sell me to his thugs. I was petrified but I could not show it, I maintained a grin from ear to ear. Soon we arrived. Outside there were many children, many than I could expect from the few homes I could see just in that place. Some cried or played while others fought. All of them were under 10 years. I continued with no question at all. My date opened a tricycle padlock on the door of his small mud room.  Inside, there was a table and a stool and a bed that I was offered as a seat. I mentioned nothing incase I asked a painful question. Some dirty clothes were in a corner and a paper hand out was on the table. Just below there was a lantern lamp that he used to read. This guy is doing his 2^nd degree though I am not sure. He said so. I am doing my masters in this room. I remained quiet. I kept asking myself whuy he can’t live in a more decent house. As we were going to his house, he kept on telling me that he wanted me to marry him. Ahh! Getting married will be the last option in my life. Inside the house he continued to press on the issue.

 “Nic do you still love me as you did six years ago?”

Since I wanted to cut the long story short, I shook my head up and down. He wanted to have sex but I could not allow it to happen. I am very sensitive on this issue. We struggled for quite sometime until I was irritated and almost applied my Shotokan techniques; but why hurt a friend? Now the clouds were getting darker and hanging with water ready to burst. I opened the dark room and it was getting late. I requested him to walk me to the stage. We went down the god-forsaken valleys; we crossed a bridge of the filthy stinking Nairobi River. I could hardly swallow saliva I stayed silent until I found a place to spit. I said several Hail Marys’ to make sure that rain did not pour before I got to the bus stop. And He heard my prayers.  Immediately I boarded the city hopper the heavy downpour started, as if it was washing away what I had just. I can still not imagine that this guy went to sleep in that place and even worse buy food to eat there. Human waste right on the doorstep you never knew who loosed his waste there yet you should not question, for outside your door is no mans land.I only visited once, but the scene will be etched in my mind for life. Talk of dehumanizing poverty and this word yet does not describe it fully. Things are worse in this god-abandoned slum. Just when will the angel of wealth pass over this slum?

On Monday I woke up to another slum, just behind it the big church where I give people loans that no one wants to pay back. We have sent auctioneers to clean their houses but there is nothing to clear for sure. On Tuesday, the day starts early and just even before I finish my dream I have to wake up and go to the Mathare slums commonly known as Kosovo.  Yesterday there were skirmishes  and two policemen were killed. There are policemen all over investigating the killings of the constables. I am not sure that I will come out alive but I go anyway because it is work and I have no better choice. Tired and sweaty, I had to walk to the bus stop to get a matatu and rush to town in less than 20 minutes. I get on the road and the traffic is impossible. More to this, the matatu does not get me to my destination but drops me 500 meters away. I walk in hot sun with dusty feet sweaty and shaggy hair but what can I do. I arrive at the meeting heart thumping but I am already late. Nobody wants to listen to my long stories. All the same, I push defaulters to reduce their arrears. Some comply, others don’t see the need. However, if I have a cheque then I do not issue it unless the money is paid. I am damn tired and I want nothing but rest. But even with this fatigue I can not rest. It’s now 1500hrs I have to rush to the office. I arrive and Supervisor comes in.

“Nicole,” he says,  even before I have a seat. “There is a client in the office complaining of a previous meeting.”

I quickly answer him just for fear I might be fired anytime. I am scared, very scared. If I lose a job I struggled to find for the last four years, it’s not going to be very sweetDespite this,  I think am giving up for I cannot handle this. I have to leave. All the same, I have to go home and wait for Wednesday, not because it will be any better but just because it is a different day.

On Wednesday, I had to go to a small room that resembles the devil’s hide out. On top it is clearly marked ANGST office. It is made of iron sheet and just next to the road. I do not know how these people have been surviving here, if you live a coin on the table you will not be able to recognize it the next day because of dust. I thought I was crying about a job, I now have it and the tears are more than ever before. This job is pathetic, I detest it but it has bought me some shares that I will enjoy in future. Thank God, I want to quit this job. I am fed up with rules and quarrels and this work is frustrating me. Today two clients came in the office and claimed that I was rude to them and that they did not get their cheques on time. Yesterday I was in the office again and my boss called me because I had issued an unsigned cheque. Partly it was my mistake but someone should not yell at me simply because I have made a mistake. No one is perfect on this earth. I hate orders, I dislike commands, and I do not like some one monitoring what I am doing. Goodness! On which day was I born when all the gods of goodwill, love and kindness were asleep? When will my star of life shine on me? Now I do not want to stay in this uncertainty, crying for job security I do not even want to secure my job. But is there a job I will ever like? Living in this world is challenging. Tomorrow I will hand in my resignation letter..   It is now exactly 0026 hrs in the night and the angel of the night has woken me up, I cannot get sleep. Are the spirits of my ancestors haunting me?

When will I wake up one morning and find the sun shining on my side? Or will I cry all the way to my grave? Amadioha forbid! I want to enjoy life but all fingers are pointing at impossibilities.  I woke up this morning and went to the field, five missed calls. I had not even arrived at work. What is the problem? I questioned myself, was something wrong in the place of work? Did clients go to the office that early, I wondered and I was right? I did not answer the phone because the ringer tone was off and I did not want to call back.   As I continued to address my clients, the chairman of the group received a phone, he stepped out a few minutes later he came back and asked me to pick the phone. I had not comprehended what was happening I took the phone.

“Nicole! Are you at the meeting?”

“Ooh yes,” I answered with a low timid tone.

“So where is the cheque for Nyangau?”

I had no idea where it was. After all I had already handed it over to the accounts office.

“If you don’t know who knows?” I remained silent I could already tell someone was breathing fire. To cut the long story short I said okay, I will come and look for it.

I had just received my letter from my boss, that they had received my resignation. They stated clearly that I would not be rewarded for the month I have worked for simply because I had not issued a one-month notice. Well, I only issued two weeks’ notice, because I hated the job I was doing, very much. Days in a row, clients have been flowing demanding their cheques but I knew just too well that it would be unwise to issue those cheques. But my boss knew nothing about it, and I would not disclose this especially after they clearly said they would not pay my salary. Well I have no hard feelings over working for nothing because I have been working as a volunteer, and that I do best. Is job security the only thing we are fighting and looking for? at least for me I don’t think I will, bow down to be frustrated by my employer, at the end of the day I will find my dream job , someday…only my gods know when this will be. I wake up each morning to work for nothing. I know what I want in life and not what everyone wants for me. I have my own song. I feel so free to walk out from my job. I feel like a big log has been moved out of my way. If he knew how happy I am, he would give me punishment to work for an extra month. Confirming my resignation was not punishment at all but a blessing on my part. I will never in my life bow to any body. I have bowed enough, I will not again. If I die poor, then let me do so. But kneeling down each time to please a human being? Not me! I have resigned my job and I have no other source of income, and I do not know how I will survive. How will I pay my bills? Even worse, I want to move out. I will have to clean the money I have in stocks. I worked for an organisation that unjustifiably denied me my salary and this I will never forget. My children will know and my grand children too,  if I ever live to see them.

After leaving office today, I passed through the gym. I did not want to train because I was very annoyed. I knew I had graded the previous week and I did not thinl I performed very well. I was coming to collect my results. Luckily I had passed, and this uplifted my spirit. At least my day will end on a good note. The training was being done by a Karate veteran; I admired the energy that emanated from him full of verve and vitality. He trained a group of 20 Karatekas and did not tire doing each exercise, in fact each move he made he went an extra one.  Doing something that he loves he looked younger, yet he has killed sixty decades. Will I be like him when I turn sixty years? Each day I wake up in the morning, I curse the day I was born wonder why I came to this world. Talk of fate, that my life is controlled by fate. I have no control over my own life. I think I was born on the wrong day after all and I was supposed to be aborted. I wish the water broke loose just before the third month. I could not be writing this today. I am tired of life I want to give up the ghost not just today but each day. I wish I died yesterday for the challenges I face each day are so different. I wonder each day whether I was born without the consent of my gods. Is the power of the devil, the worst of them all, controlling my life? Did the devil claim my life before I could see the sun? Is it fate or is it a misfortune? Good heavens, come and rescue this poor soul for my life is worse than that of a refugee. Nicole, a girl whose father disappeared in the thin air has no one to look upon. I can only sit down and shed tears after a long bad day, if my enemies quarrel and attack me I cannot go and report to anyone apart from the police. I will have to sit down and mourn.

I remember of Ihuoma a woman whose love life was controlled by fate, each man she married died the next day and she wondered that a woman as beautiful as the angels can have no love life. Is Nicole a relative of this woman that each time she meets a lover they part ways, I get a job and it just turns out to be bad job. My heart is overthrown with sorrow; I read the book of lamentations each morning. I must have lamented even in my mother’s womb just before I was born. And lamented when I started crawling, and lamented when I started to make my fast step, I must have lamented when I started sitting on my own, I must have lamented when I started feeding myself I must have lamented. The only time I did not lament was when I went to Pre School. My face showed with joy like a morning star. The book of lamentations seems to be the only book I have been reading from childhood. And am still going on, when shall I finish it? Will I read it for life?

In 1999 I thought I could not see the new millennium; 2000. I thought I could be eating with the dead somewhere in purgatory or in hell. I was sick almost to a point of death. But to whom could I have turned to? I suffered for three consecutive weeks and I was sure I could not do another week. I therefore  took my self to the sanatorium. After two weeks, I went back.  My situation had not improved an inch and I was worried. Very worried. I had a cold chill down my spine and I had to use a hanky to wipe sweat from my face that was not even there. My day was drawing near, and I had started to see the windows of heaven opening for me but alas!

“My God if my house is complete I will not occupy it immediately, with all mercies allow me to let it out. For I have been a real estate manager down here and I will guard that one also equally well.”

 I went for a smear test and I waited for three hours before I could get my results. I was full of angst and I thought it was bronchitis but from where could I have got it? Just before I finished my thought I was called.

“Nicole.”

I went to the small laboratory window and I was asked to take to the results to the doctor but in another section. But why to another section of the hospital? When I came to this section, I saw many people waiting. I did not know that I was victim of the dreaded T.B section. I did not want to believe the obvious and I was convinced my doctor must have made the wrong diagnosis. I sat down on the hard table that had been discolored by sick asses. I handed in the results I had received from the lab. The medicine I was prescribed was that of T.B. I asked nothing. I was asked to collect medicine for the next six months at a nearby clinic. I gave the name of my nearest clinic where I was to report after every two weeks to collect the medicine. Well, that evening I went home a depressed woman with T.B. I tried to think tracing all the people I have contacted for the last six months and I could not trace any possibility of having T.B. I had to accept the hard truth I had contacted the killer disease: T.B. After two weeks I went to the clinic I had been referred to Minesota clinic. I handed in the yellow card and I was called after a few minutes.

“So you have T.B,” said the doctor. Of course this is not a question I could have answered, so I kept silent.

“Were you tested for H.I.V?”

“No,” I replied, eyes downcast.  

The doctor started complaining.

“But why did they send you here, may be you are even H.I.V positive.”

I was astonished and for a moment I was dumbfounded.

“Doctor? What did you just say?”

“You have to test for H.I.V any time you have T.B.Who gave you this medicine? This is the wrong medicine!” she exclaimed.  “You have to start all over again!”

I could not say a word.

The next morning, I woke up to go to the mission hospital and told them all that had happened at Minnesota clinic. After seeing the doctor and explaining my case, I could not finish narrating my ordeal; I could only shed tears I was sure I had a visa to heaven anytime. Because if Minnesota was the only clinic I could receive my medicine, then I was sure doubly sure that I could not  go back there. Seeing the deep emotion with tears, the nurse quickly destroyed the card she had given me earlier and referred me to the mission hospital. I felt relieved. After I continued to collect my medicine after every one month. On the next visit, I was referred to a H.I.V test section; I signed to have the test although I was sure there was nothing to worry about. Even so, I was concerned when I heardthe close relationship between HIV and T.B I could not rest at ease. I waited impatiently for the results that took only thirty minutes. I took them back to the doctor who asked me questions about my sexual life. After a short moment of silence, he said:”you are negative but remain negative” the words were so strong that I felt them pierce through my heart. That not having HIV is good but remaining negative is not as easy. As I write this just now my stomach has butterflies yes I feel like running out of my skin. I am shaking with worry that I could not have lived to write this. Tonight, Let me take a short break before I break the worst news ever am holding my stomach that is already signaling to me that there was danger and even memories of such a thing only can give me ulcers.

I left the doctors room with a lot of confidence and joy that after all the TB will be cured after six months on medication. The instructions were clear never miss a dose, if you miss it take it immediately you remember. I followed instructions like the gospel. I could not live the house without my medicine. For the first three months I saw as if it was my full life time. I counted months like a pregnant woman waiting to bear a child after nine months. And I new I could not see the ninth month with my eyes I could be long dead. I almost wrote my eulogy, to make it easier for the people who will bury me. For I knew I would die. My whole sweet life almost ended.  The thing that revitalized me was just two words HIV negative that only, gave me a new lease of life. It had never appeared in my mind that I could have T.B. I don’t even great people just like that, I don’t like crowded places and the doctor comes and announces “you will be on medication for the next six months,” and it was enough evidence I had the disease I dreaded. My life could have been sent straight to abyss without seeing my offspring or seeing someone who loves me fate and fate again repeated. Eight months after I was free I could not believe the T.B was gone forever I asked? “Will it ever come back,” I asked the doctor, he was reluctant to answer me, but I was curious. I think each day of the killer disease that pointed me with a sharp sword of death and my angel of life was to near me. I woke up each morning and I could not believe am a live. Breathing this air was a great miracle to spread.

My god of love has gone far away from me. I wonder each day and night what happened to my angel of love? I have to spend long hours alone and lonely. Did the god of love disappear from me? What can I do will I ever enjoy the fruit of love in this age or will the world swallow me before I taste the sweetness of love? I do not know but let me go to bed and tomorrow I will meet yet another one at least I know I like other things, marriage and children don’t appear in the list, unfortunately they are respected by the society, but for how long shall I bow to the society? Love is untimely; it comes at the wrong time, with the wrong people. I know where to get sex when I need it. If I have food, shelter, clothing, sex, and education what else do I really need? I have this thirst for men and I want one just now. When you want your man he is not there probably he is with another woman. At this time you can go down with anything that comes next to you. We are the ones who choose. When my man goes to for further studies I will be left alone for sometime, am sexually starved, I want sex just like food. Don’t we feel hungry when deprived of food? If the food we want is not there we eat what is available! Don’t you? You won’t believe this that even after closing the chapters of three men they are still haunting me one year after. I still communicate with them I have just text the three of them. I thought they would go forever but they haven’t. One is married the other two are not, where will this end I have no idea. The man who opened the door of love to me is not communicating he gives me promises by the way we meet quite often. The other one we never meet but we always communicate on phone, he continues to send his sweet massages that drive me to abyss. Is he married and does not want to tell me, how comes he keeps on saying we meet but never makes any efforts. Am done, my days down here are over, yes over. I lay one hand on my knee and the other on my forehead. I try to understand but no sense is knocking to my head. Ohh lord where will I find this loving and committed man. You won’t believe this Lez is coming back! On Thursday this week. Am working hard to ensure that he will enjoy his stay here. At least he has been the only man who has been consistent and I have all the reason to love him and keep him for ever. But, he is married to another woman. Good Lord, help me so that I will commit no sin. Although he has already made his stand he will do what a man does to a woman he loves. Let me hope he will not live me caring his tot. How can I please myself and not hurt others?  When Lez comes I will be with him the moment he lands at the airport because I have strong feelings for him, I could kiss him and lie with him and think about the consequences later. I love him, for no good reason .But I have to hate him because he is engaged to another woman. I will forget about my country men for a while after all they are always here. Lez, I know you will come and go but the mark you live in my heart will never be deleted. I want you only you. Lez said he wants to own my house this man from the post apartheid country can he be trusted by a Kenyan. Just which twist will this take? Now love lives forever only that lovers vanish under the sun. I love this man and he is not any where near here yet I love him so much. I am still waiting for my husband I have no idea who it will be whether a young or an old man. This is a mystery that is difficult to unravel. Once again a letter is missing in the puzzle.

I will go only with the one I love. In marriage I will not be in a hurry for being in a hurry to get married is like rushing to catch ones own fate. Men have frustrated women because they are their wives but all the same it sounds nice to be called a Mrs. I will be Mrs. who? I have no idea. Thank singers like Tracy Chapman whose song am listening to as I write this “all that you have is your soul”….I cannot wait for the day I will wake up in the morning and thank the Amadioha for my existence. If I die today, I will be forgotten tomorrow. Love is untimely and sometimes we end up loving the wrong persons. I have loved wrong people no wonder am always frustrated when it comes to love affairs. What is the secret to find a lover? I woke up early today to go to work and the same problem was still there fresh than before I thought I had solved one but I was wrong. People are getting impatient with me but I am the only one who understands my self because I am the only me. In life I wait for nothing apart from death because it is the only thing I am 100 per cent sure it shall come to me without asking. I want you to read my story before I die, I want to write my eulogy when am a live so that I can participate in my own burial. It is not a secret my friend we shall all die only we don’t know when. I will not get married because I am scared of responsibilities and orders of the African man. I want to adopt a baby not because I can’t get my own but just to be a lesson to the society that it is not only by biology that we become parents, we can take care of those forsaken children I saw on the Nation newspaper this morning and I wondered where had all this parents gone to?

How can Nicole live in absence of love in a world full of love? Why did she in the first place fight for her rights to come to this world? If only she knew what she was coming for Let me remain silent next to these waters for solitude sometime is the best society.

Are we walking on the same soil with the man who will marry me or is he far away? For if we are walking on the same soil then we should meet. Or have we been walking on opposite directions. Where will his love find me? On the road, in a restaurant, or where? Will he like what I do or will I have waited for him for all this time just to give me children and frustrate me? Will nature give me my man to live with him forever, or will I enjoy for a while and leave me lonely again? My life has been a stream of fate and if my children will be affected by the same fate God forbid. Yesterday as I walked along the stretched wrecked road I dreamt of a man husband to Nicole a lover of my life time, and I could not believe. The only thing am sure of is that we shall meet. Let me get out side to go and find him, my rib, my other half the one and only who was created for me, my Adam. Or perhaps there was no man created for me? Or am I victim of the spirits of my great grand mother? And probably even though I marry I will divorce! Of course I wouldn’t know. But one thing am sure, I love change of anything: food, job, cloths, atmosphere just something as long as it’s not what I saw yesterday. Probably I will change my husband too. I pray I will not though. I have nothing. No money, no husband I have nothing. Am living here today and probably tomorrow I will move out and I might just never come back here again, I have got no attachment to people or places and I can therefore live anywhere with anyone. But where did I get this from? I have definitely no idea for sure there are powers that control us that we have no powers over. Let me go and look for a loving husband, probably the only person I will love passionately, and I pray that he be lovable, that only. My bed is calling probably because it has no company.

Sometimes people say that to wish to die is to be scared of life and to be a cowered, since I don’t want to be baptized a cowered I will continue with life no matter what it brings forth, I will persevere. I have resigned today but I am sure, very sure that soon I will get another job. For I don’t believe I was born to die a poor woman. That I have changed jobs, boys and yet am searching for a husband to have me. Goodness! My life is just a chain of fate in the real sense of the word. I have spent hours in my life doing nothing else but sit down and shed tears and it seems it will never stop. Will I ever meet a palmist who can read my palms and tell me what my future holds for me? Conceived by mistake, Survived abortion, Child labour, Rape, Sexual harassment, Education problem, Vaginismus, Lack of employment, Hijacked and I don’t know what the next one will be, maybe I will have to consult a clairvoyant. The list of fate is endless Will I survive to have a good matrimony and career life or will I die a single frustrated, pitiable spinster. Will my angel of love ever come? When will my angle of wealth and happiness come in my life? My life has been full of angst. Where I will go from here I have no idea. I am now waiting to see only three things and one I will not participate, Death. Am waiting to see my marriage and career life. And see whether I will be buried in sacks. Its cold, I snuggle up on my couch, probably waiting for my love. I will definitely love and when I do I will do it forever. But who will be the lucky one? He will be the only thing I will love under the sun. And I will study Kama sutra, just to keep him and have my martial arts to make him happy and show him yoga to pull his inner energy, so as to remember me all his life time. This life is short. The one that will fall on my side will be loved forever and there will be no question about it. We shall bear children together and name them after our forefathers or precious stones. There is power beneath that strongly controls me. I want to see what my future holds for me. Am eager to see what is beyond these problems in a life that has been so rough. I have no idea I will let you know as it unfolds. Let me sit and wait for tomorrow.