When they come in between you

“I’m not sure this is working out,” said Turner as Shirley sat on the sofa with her face buried in her hands. He walked out of the door with tears in his eyes knowing it was either him or her. Turner and Shirley had been dating for two years but their relationship had hit a rocky patch and despite everything they tried, things always seemed to get worse.

They met in their final year of college and instantly took to liking each other. Tim was mango; soft on the outside but rough on the inside. He was always calm on normal occasions but he would occasionally let the rough side come out.

Shirley on the other hand was a free spirit. A very decent lady who was easy to get along with. She did her best to make everyone happy and was everyone’s favourite. Their friendship was based on the fact that both of them came from low points in their lives and found comfort in putting a smile on each other’s faces.

Their friendship grew over the course of time and so did their trust in each other. At first, it was nothing more than mutual concern for each other’s wellbeing. Shirley was concerned that Turner had was too aloof with his emotions and barely let anyone get past the basics of knowing him. She was concerned that he was suffering in silence and it was affecting his social life.

Turner on the other hand was interested in Shirley because he felt she was not fulfilling her full potential. She was always doing her best not to offend anyone and in the end she would end up getting hurt. He had seen this before and had been on the opposite end of the spectrum. He knew what it felt like to hurt someone and see their life spiral out of control.

In Shirley, he saw a lady that would take him to heights he had not experienced before. She was calm, focused, beautiful and made him appreciate the little things in life. She had been through a lot in her life but you couldn’t tell from the smile she always showed the world. Turner saw the smile and all the possibilities that were behind that smile.

Shirley liked Turner for who he was. He was a bit younger than her but they found comfort in each other. Over time, they grew closer and all those hugs and laughter turned to a kiss goodbye and sharing of great moments together. Things were taking their course and you could tell these two were meant to be together.

Both valued their privacy and kept their exploits under wraps. They didn’t want anyone to know what they were up to and kept their secret between them. Things were going well for the two and there was nothing but love between them. For a while, nothing could go wrong because it was always what they meant to each other that mattered.

After graduating college, they both found themselves in different industries. Turner found himself in the media industry and Shirley was in the marketing field. These were environments they had not been exposed to in their lives. They were both on field assignment and this meant they had to spend time apart.

The distance didn’t make much difference in the beginning because they would always yearn for each other. Their romance grew as they would be happy to see each other and would tear the place apart. Time was beginning to bring some distance between them though. Turner was always working late and would not find adequate time to spend with Shirley.

Shirley didn’t find any problem in him not being around and always did her best to make herself available. At work, Turner was having a hard time at all the staff parties keeping to himself to avoid putting himself in a precarious situation. He would stay up late, barely drink and head home. He kept this up for a while but he finally caved in.

He would go out with his colleagues on a regular basis and found comfort in his assignment partner, Mish. She was in a relationship with a business man who was barely around. She would confide in Turner and tell him about her love life. Turner would listen to her and they found themselves spending more time together.

Whenever they worked late, they would have a glass or two of scotch before heading home. One night, Mish was very uneasy. She kept on checking her phone and was absent minded. “What’s up today?” asked Turner as he handed her a glass of scotch. “It’s nothing.” She replied still looking at her phone. “Come on. It’s me. You know you can tell me anything.” He said as she put her phone aside.

“Well, it’s my wedding anniversary and my husband hasn’t even sent me a message,” she replied as tears rolled down her cheeks. Turner sat on her desk facing and placed his glass on her desk. “Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be back,” he said with a smile. He ran out of the office and came back with a gift in his hand.

“Happy anniversary!” She took the unexpected gift and her eyes were filled with tears. “When did you get this?” she asked amid sobs. “I listen,” he replied as he embraced her. They spent the night drinking and headed home at almost dawn.

Turner walked into the house and Shirley was waiting for him. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick? Couldn’t you even have called?” Turner couldn’t explain the fact that he had spent the night out with someone’s wife on her anniversary while his girlfriend spent the night worrying about him.

That was the beginning of their problems. Mish would call Turner anytime she felt lonely and he would heed her call. His actions made him and Shirley drift apart. Suddenly, the fun filled sex escapades were replaced by arguments and mistrust.

Shirley started drifting from Turner and their affection was slowly being washed down the drain. She couldn’t understand how Turner could forget where they came from because of a stranger. Turner on the other hand couldn’t understand how the person he’d opened up to didn’t trust him enough to be on his own.

On the fateful day, Turner was working late and it had skipped his mind that he and Shirley were supposed to have dinner. She called his phone and Mish answered. Shirley felt that Turner had crossed the line and betrayed her. She called a friend over because she needed someone to talk to.

As they sat at the dining table, she started crying. Her friend went over to her and hugged her. As he leaned in looking into her eyes, Turner walked in. He froze and dropped his laptop bag. He picked up his bag, walked past them and went to the bedroom. Shirley’s friend left and she went into the bedroom.

“How could you?” She asked with tears in her eyes. Turner didn’t utter a word as he packed a pair of boxers, socks and a t-shirt in his bag. He was burning with rage but he loved Shirley to much too let it show. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” she shouted following him into the living room. “I’m not sure this is working out,” said Turner as Shirley sat on the sofa with her face buried in her hands. He walked out of the door with tears in his eyes knowing it was either him or her.

 

 

Such is Life

Freedom works best for the free,

And the free and not necessarily free,

We are bound by promises,

Shackled by lies and deceit,

But such is life.


At times freedom is painful,

You have to let go,

Give another life,

At your own expense,

But such is life.


Do not cry for me,

For I will not do the same,

Trust is not always rewarded with loyalty,

Sometimes, it begets betrayal,

But such is life.


Live well and do good,

Expect nothing in return,

Be welcoming but be cautious,

Those you sleep with can stab you,

Because such is life.

The case of the insignificant other

It’s Monday lads, four days closer to the weekend. That should tell you the weekend just breezed by like a slipped fart and just like the aforementioned slip up, there must be something fishy. Well, I like to observe people when I go out. Not the creepy kind of observation. I don’t sit at a corner with a coloured straw drink with tight pants looking at random people.

I sit in the middle of the club in evenly fitting clothes sipping on redbull and water constantly distracted by an ass or two. It would be weird to be distracted by one ass. Like, “Check out that left butt cheek son! It’s got jiggle for days!” I’m not that weird though I would like to point out that most Instagram models have irregularly toned butts from their postures.

So back to the case at hand. A night out is the best time to follow up with anything you feel isn’t right. Today, it the insignificant other. From the term you’re probably thinking it’s a side chick or one of those broads you hit in nothing but broad daylight. No, that isn’t the case here. Actually, the insignificant other is usually very significant to the blind lad.

We all have that one lad that thinks he’s got it all figured out. Bring up sports, he’s the Jorge Mendes of all fields. Talk about politics, he’s the Nelson Mandela of liberating you from your ignorance. Mention music, he’s the Dr. Dre to your beat up ideas. Don’t even bring up relationships because he puts Dr. Phil and Maury to shame.

This is the lad with “The Girl”. The thing about words that have the previously mentioned article right before them is that they are usually horse shit. You get a guy that tells you, “I’m the man,” he’s probably not good at whatever he claims to be good at.

Lads, the insignificant other is usually your main lady. From inside she’s a total bitch but since you want to be life’s Don Juan, you suffer in silence. I like happy relationships just like every other guy out there. I watched all seasons of Spartacus and only forwarded through the violent bits. So when I see a good thing, I can tell a good thing and Spartacus was too damn good.

These lasses aren’t really bad people. They want the best for you in life and know that you’ll succeed if you cut off your lads. I liken these kind of ladies to a biblical character. He only wants the best for you in your life, at least that’s what he claims. Some call him Diablo, others Lucifer or if you’re still elementary, Satan.

As earlier stated, I have nothing against beneficial relationships and everyone deserves to have one as long as it’s consensual. The thing is you can help your lad grow without necessarily taking the life out of him. Unless you raised this lad and took care of him from birth to the point where you want to dig out your innards, he’s not an island.

Lads have been known to explore and in their late teens and twenties, they try to find their bearing in a cruel world. So when you cut out your lad from the world and expect him to progress, I have no doubt you’re an offspring of Satan. You’re probably wondering, why isn’t he talking about the lad? It’s simple, lads can be confused by trivial things such as ego.

As a lad though, if you have a sassy Sheila at home and wonder why your boys never involve you in anything, take heart. In fact, just take your heart, slip it into your pocket and slowly creep out of that house at midday. It would be hard to escape at night because she probably has your phone and even if she doesn’t, you answer it together. For my free lads in healthy relationships, that might just be the best gift in life.

Everyone Falls

It started with sight,

Saw her beautiful eyes,

Her lips glistened in the sun,

Her white teeth caught my attention,

Everyone falls at one point.


I said hi,

She was shy,

Not too willing to let it out at first,

She held back,

But everyone falls.


A hi turned to a handshake,

A handshake to a shared laugh,

The shared laugh to texts,

The texts to an occasional hug,

But we all fall at times.


Went from talking a few times a day,

To spending time together,

Everything was fine,

Time was taking its course,

Was this the time to fall?


Shared an interest in each other,

Wanted the best for each other,

But probably weren’t best for each other,

Only time would tell,

We were on our knees.


Cracks started to emerge,

Faults on a smooth surface,

Rough on the outside,

Breaking down inside,

Is this what happens when you fall?


But everyone falls sometime,

It’s not a crime,

We let emotion take its course,

Made the best of what we had,

But you can fall out as easily as you fell in.

 

The Nairobi Lad Chronicles

All lads have that one friend that likes sharing. Not necessarily sharing anything with you, but generally shares their groin with any willing lass. This lad isn’t usually the Alpha male but he’s worked out the Science of getting ladies to remove or otherwise readjust their panties. In the ideal world, we’d like to be this lad. But do you really want to be this lad?

Say you’ve gone out for booze with the boys in a new location. Same town, same crowd, different setting. Everyone’s brought out their significant other for the night and you as The Lad have picked among your low hanging fruits and brought the freshest one out.

All’s going well. You’re busy searching her inner thighs for any foreign object, tongue checking for any mouth ulcers while maintaining a convo with the lads. What can go wrong, right? Well, there’s not really much that can go south unless another lass you’ve been schmoozing with shows up at the same venue.

This is where all that calculus and probability you thought would never be applied in life comes in handy. The probability that she checks in at midnight with another dude in tow is relatively high. The actual probability of her hoping to bump into you is quite low.

The probability of her accompanying a buddy and her guy is quite high. Also, the probability of her not finding a seat and walking right into your section and finding smooth-thighed lass on your lap is extremely high. Now let’s do the math and see the probability of two of these scenarios taking place at the same time and what the aftermath might be.

In this case, let’s hypothesize that she’s accompanied her buddy and her dude and walks into your section looking for a spot to sit. What do you do as a lad?

  1. Do you freeze and act confused?
  2. Do you drop the hot pocket from your thighs?
  3. Do you smile, act happy to see her and welcome her?
  4. Do you induce vomit and drive yourself home?
  5. All of the above?

Well, lads, this is one of those situations where the cosine and tangent of fucking up is very high. In my case, 5 would have been the most suitable answer, because I’ve learnt how to eat my cake and can the cunt I can’t. In this scenario, The Lad, smiles, welcomes the lady to an already full spot knowing quite clearly she would not fit, based on sheer volume.

Lads have always been known to stand by each other and in this scenario there would also have been two outcomes. The lady can take the bluff, take a seat and see what you do next. This one is tricky because, you aren’t sure what the end goal is. You might end up with two lasses at the end of the night, one angry lass or none depending on upbringing.

If she chooses to stay calm all night and deny you the formerly forbidden fruit in the future, you my lad are lucky. Alternatively, she may choose to mess your whole night and sucker punch your lady to yesterday. A punched lady will not take kindly to being knocked out cold while looking hot and you will most likely drop her home and have your number blocked.

If she’s punched and still chooses to go home with you; it’s best to invest in some whips, latex, handcuffs, chains and a mouth gag. You’ve got yourself a freak. As a lad, you need to learn how to make your moves. Sometimes the hunter hunts the wrong prey and ends up sleeping hungry. Keep it lad and don’t forget, take her as far as possible. Something about a bird in hand and bushes.

In pursuit of love

Go after what you love,

It’s all worth it in the end,

Face your fears,

The greatest fear is your fear,

So they said.


I went after what I loved,

Pursued it to the world ends,

Sacrificed my life,

Gave it to my love,

Pursue your love they said.


Almost caught up,

But she wasn’t in the mood,

I had to procrastinate my love,

Shelve it for another day,

All in pursuit of love.


I finally caught up,

She in the right frame of mind,

Ready to kick things off,

Make us a thing,

Pronounce our love to the world.


I loved her,

So I let her go,

Because love isn’t a science,

There’s no perfect time,

Love waits for no man.

 

Passion of the fruit: The case of the escaped bandits

I’ve documented a few parties that I’ve been to in the past and most people tend to think they are fictional. I’m as real as a silent fart in the lift. I’m not old but hanging around older people has made me lose touch with things I should otherwise be doing.

For instance, I had nothing to do today and I could have put on my white boxers and watched Nat Geo. But that wasn’t going to happen, was it? I had to have an experience that would make me turn to my trusted keyboard. Well, unfortunately, I made the mistake of disrespecting my instinct and now I’m a wanted felon.

So a guy I consider to be my G invited me for a mini party. He’d just moved out and you know how people operate. I needed to know where he lived just in case I was in the vicinity and a random lady saw it fit to share her cookie with me. I work on weekends, and I like going home immediately after work.

I was going to do the same thing on this particular day but you know how the devil works. Well, Devil, or D as we call him in the streets, convinced these two ladies that give my balls a tingling sensation. They plotted and convinced me to make a technical appearance at a party and then head out.

That sounded fine to me. A technical appearance doesn’t last more than one hour, does it? I was the first at the place because I didn’t want to be the new guy at the office that thinks he’s too cool for everyone. In the real sense I am. I chew on mint all day long and have ice tatted right above my heart. It doesn’t get cooler than that.

So yeah, we went to the guy’s place and we chatted for a minute. I was busy sipping on Fanta (Panda things) and he was flirting with vodka. Time was dragging its ass and I was staring at my watch and cussing in my head. Why was I cussing? You see, I am not the largest guy in the room. This particular friend is like twice my size.

I don’t know what alcohol does to him so I wasn’t willing to sit back and find out. Luckily, another guy showed up. A short while later another guy showed up. At this point I was thinking, “Haha! I knew this was going to be one major sausage fest. I’m out!” Then I remembered there were two ladies that were supposed to have been at the party by then.

I was not amused by the whole five guys waiting on two chics thing. I was not about to run a train with ninjas who fart when dancing. The host got a call from another lady and I thought that was my cue to leave. So I followed them out so that I could get a bus home. At this point I called the two missing ladies to inform them of my imminent departure.

I was the one who was supposed to be angry but I was the one who ended up going down (not literally) and offering a solution. So there we were, three ninjas and one very light lady. A few moments later, two more ladies came and we headed back to my boy’s digs.

We get there, there are two more ninjas I didn’t leave there and a lady. The lady I was cool with but the ninjas I was wary of. They served me alcohol without even knowing my name and I think I already mentioned something about looking good before, so I opted out of it. I sipped on my thoughts for a while.

Just when things were starting to get lit and the ladies were getting comfortable with their preferred mates, the main man came. We’ll call him Carlitos for today. Carlitos had with him a fair lady and I can tell you for free, some bile was being swallowed in that room. He peed around her like a real dog would and made sure everyone knew, “This is mine!” I respected that and even threw up a few gang signs to show my approval.

All this time I was picturing myself in boxers watching Spongebob. The ladies I was waiting for finally arrived and yes, they did look edible. I immediately asked for a platter and served myself a bit of each one of them. They were classy enough to bottle their tea. Ok, it was cream liquor but there’s someone who thought it was tea.

At this point, everything was as calm as unaroused nipples. We went to the rooftop and lit one for our ancestors and another one just in case the last one didn’t reach them. I felt so calm after a few hits and the girls and I bonded in the city’s view before we decided to go back although I was shortchanged because boobs were supposed to be flying everywhere.

Now, this is where the party started. Two of the first three girls we picked up were in the zone. The first, Chairlady, was doing things I watch on YouTube under the cover. She was on that grade A Jamaican ratchetry. I’m talking about that one leg in the air, ass on someone’s crotch and still sipping on your drink type of dancing. I had to remove my glasses and clean them just to confirm they weren’t playing tricks on me.

I also forgot to say, I was in shorts, white shoes and black socks; I was a cholo. I sandwiched myself in-between  the two lasses and went on to zone out. It wasn’t fruitful because every time I tried to chill, Chairlady would do something that would make me cringe but still strong enough to give me a minor boner.

Remember the two guys who kept on serving people drinks? Yes, those guys were now scrambling for the few ladies we had at the venue. I’m a chill guy, so I just sat between ladies massaging my ego. Alcohol isn’t breast milk or soup and it certainly doesn’t help when you don’t have limits. So the host was fried at this point and gave lap dances to unwilling patrons (female if I may add).

I knew things would go south when one guy was dry humping one of the ladies. And no, it was not in a secluded area, right in front of our eyes. Another guy was grinding on a girl and I think he must have bust a nut because he did a one leg shake when the track stopped playing. His eyes also turned egg white so there must have been more white elsewhere.

All this while, one of the ladies that convinced me to attend the party was insistent on us leaving Sodom. We dipped and the walk down the staircase was long and hard. The two other ladies came and off from the party we went.

I know you’re wondering why the title has anything to do with bandits and here’s the reason. I went to work on Sunday and the first call I got was from one of the ladies, telling me were being sought after two phones got lost. I agree, I’m thug life till I die but there was no way I needed any of those phones. I can’t even use mine the whole day. The sad bit was that I was not even consulted as to which phone my accomplices and I allegedly took.

Carlitos came through with video evidence from after we had left and it showed who the real bandits were. The host however, was insistent that we went to dry clean his house despite the fact that my pillow if fluffier than his mattress. I have a lot of tissue in my house; bum tissue, facial tissue, hand tissue, body tissue: he only had one. I was absolutely unamused that such allegations were being thrown at three ladies and I. How dare he call me a thief! I have stolen hearts and moments but not a yellow phone. Not me!

I however, did feel for one ninja who brought wine so that he could bed one of the ladies but ended up losing a phone and having blue balls. The lady that lost her phone on the other hand was not going to let that moment dampen her mood. She climbed onto that carpet of a mattress, took off her fishnet stockings and sweat-filled panties.

She spent the night there and woke up to the shocking news that not only was her phone lost but her dignity as well. I did my best to return a bit of her dignity but I think she’ll have to live without the rest and get herself a new one.

The host was a skunk in the afternoon and reeked of dirty jocks dipped in ammonia. I made a vow never to attend any party this guy throws. I also hold a personal grudge against the two lasses that made me miss a few hours of sleep just to be called a thief. Next time you get invited to a house warming and you can still kill one of your dead relatives, do it. Unless that party is organized by someone with a decent portfolio, avoid it.

You can still call me for your parties though.

When love hurts

Sometimes I’m indecisive,

I like you then forget you,

It’s never about me,

Sometimes it’s you,

We still have time.


You ignite a flame inside me,

At times it’s warm,

At other times it burns me,

I got used to it,

I have nothing but time.


Will you ever leave me?

Is this love or something like it?

Your confidence turned to arrogance,

I can’t tell if you don’t know or are ignorant,

It’s time we sat down.


You talk about love,

Like it a commodity at the store,

Put in your shopping cart,

And return it if you can’t afford it,

Did you forget about our time together?


Is the art bigger than the artist?

What if the trade stifles the trader?

What happens when love kills the lover?

Takes the very essence of its existence,

And time is all you have.


They said I’d be free in love,

But I lost more than I gained,

But love is about sacrifices, right?

You give and expect nothing in return,

But what about my time?

 

I’m back like Jon, without the snow

I haven’t written in a while and I was questioning my purpose in life. I was wondering what would happen to the people that read my blog. How would they relate with their families? How would they smile to their loved ones? Would their lives stop? Then I realized I’m actually not that big and nothing much would happen even if I stopped writing.

Well, plenty has happened and some of it came too fast for me get enough time to say, “That’s it?” I’ll start from the low to the high, at least drugs have taught me something in life. Sometime last week my cousin was on church gig. Yeah, I actually have religious relatives and I’m proud of them.

So he’s like the Jack Sparrow of his church. The ladies love the dude like the same numbers love calendars. I haven’t got the whole story of how the whole thing went but I have two versions so I’m going to merge them and come up with an average story. Equity is how I roll.

OK, my boy was the strongest of all the dudes in the church so he had to load those plastic seats on to the truck. However, the truck was convertible and it didn’t have one of those tent things they put on them. In this Noah type rain my boy was on top of truck, shirtless and all flexing and a convoy of pick-ups in tow singing his praises.

Things however, took a turn when the driver felt dude was getting too much attention and decided to turn things. Like literally turn things. The guy negotiated a 45 without alerting Zeus at the back of the truck. Even super heroes need a heads up and he had his up, which was the wrong time for that. He hit a low hanging branch and boom! That was it.

I did mention my cousin is Jack Sparrow, right? So he woke up hours later and son had a cracked disc on his spine. I knew it was bad when my mother’s daughter told me and I was about to dig into some pilau which didn’t taste that good afterwards.

My G however, is set to undergo an operation and all will be well. He did make it through the hard part and he was smiling when all them babes came to his bedside. I have not and I repeat, not, seen so many ladies at the hospital at once. Almost got me cracking my spine but I remembered the kind of people I know and thought otherwise.

I did tell you a lot happened and now I’m going to the high. Got a new job! Yes, I’m gangsta like that, I work and pay bills and shit. My job is really cool. All I get to do is write about football (the one played with feet) and watch games. I’m encouraged to bet and even won once from the twenty times I’ve bet. I however, work six days a week and the workload is crazy bananas but the ninjas here like me.

I’m the professional Jack Sparrow. I’m like Clark Kent. Not cool in real life but I get shit done. Now we go higher. There’s this fat chic that is really funny but I can’t remember her name so I’ll just let you imagine any famous fat chic that tickles your bones.

You do know how hard it is to come across a funny chic right? Don’t get me wrong, girls have their own sense of humour but very few have universal humour. I know some girls that I know will desist from sharing any jokes with me from today but I’ve always laughed, haven’t I? And it’s the thought that counts at the end of the day.

So I met this really funny lady. Well, technically, I haven’t met her because we’ve only talked on phone and chatted every other day but you get the idea. I’m tied by the G code so I never mention names unless you threaten to kill a kitten. I’m a Keanu type of guy.

She’s funny. Not in a scripted kind of way. In a stand-up way where she just comes up with random stuff and you have to pause and thank your ancestors. Did I say she’s beautiful? Not hot, she’s not a potato or some random location in North Africa.

So you can see, I’ve had a lot going on and I’ve not been able to catch up with my writing but I’ve made a comeback. I need people to put some respeck on my blog. I won’t say it no more! Birdman got me some mileage in the US and now I may have to go on a meet-the-fan tour (It’s one fan).

I wouldn’t fail to mention Leicester City because they achieved what I had not predicted them to achieve and my status as prophet has been revoked. Congratulations to the Foxes. Spurs, you still have to wait a little longer. Oh, before I forget, my grandma temporarily forgot my name and referred to me by my pseudo name. I felt so cool. It’s like someone meeting Bruce Wayne in the streets and calling him Batman. It’s cool.

I also have a problem of sharing things on Facebook and I can’t stop. Have they diagnosed that condition yet? I need to go to the hospital and I don’t have a valid reason. I also don’t want drugs, I just want to talk to a nurse and mess about with her beliefs. If it’s a male nurse I’d like to know a lot as well but I won’t let him attend to me.

That’s all for today folks.

When time is all you have

Time is one resource I have grown to appreciate as I grew older. I grew up in those homes where a holiday was travelling to my grandma’s and my uncle’s and cousins would bring their kids along. Over time it became a norm and I would always say to myself, “When I’m done with school and get my own job, I’m done with this!” Those were honest thoughts from a child and I would openly let my mother know how I felt.

A few years into university, I would find myself asking my relatives when we’d be going home. One thing I have come to appreciate in adulthood is growth. I have progressed both in age and maturity and with different interactions; I realize I’ve had it good. Do you know how many people would have wanted to know their relatives, let alone spend time with them? I always make a point of meeting with my relatives at least once a week and we’ve grown to look at each other as one.

Why did I choose to write this today? Well, a very good friend of mine suffered a loss this week. This is a guy I trusted with my money in high school and even to date we still keep in contact and he’s a brother to me. He lost his father and I can’t put into words what he felt because I know he adored his father and so did those of us who got a chance to meet him. I last saw him in December at Pete’s graduation party and you could tell this was a man proud of his son.

I’ll share with you what a very wise man once shared with me, “Emotion has no logic.” You can never rationalize what anyone feels and how they react to loss. This is probably the hardest time for anyone when you know you have to say goodbye and it’s the final time. Society has made us believe that men shouldn’t cry. I suffer from this misconception and that is what pushed me to writing. I found solace in pouring my soul on a pad at first and now my blog is my napkin, soaking in all my emotions.

There’s no logical way to dealing with a loss. If crying gets the pain off your chest, cry. There’s no weakness in emotion. It only shows you’re capable of love, which makes you a human. I don’t know how my brother is dealing with his pain but I know he’ll get through it. I’m not going to be religious and say he’s in a better place.

The best place to be is with the people that love you and that is at home. I’ve experienced my losses before and I’ve always found a way to deal with the pain depending on the intensity of the loss. No two people will ever experience the same emotions even if they share a loss. It is all relative to the relationship and affinity you had towards the person you’ve lost.

All I can say is time is what you have. You have time to grieve. Let out the emotions of losing a man that meant the world to you. Let nobody tell you to be strong. Take your time and come to terms with the situation. Take time to remember everything you learnt from him and appreciate every minute you spent with him supporting different London clubs.

Remember every moment he would come to Moi Forces Academy to visit you and support you when Chemistry and Math had us for breakfast, break, lunch and dinner. Remember how proud he was when he delivered a speech during your graduation and the look in his eyes when his little boy became a man academically. Take your time to fetch all the good memories because there are more of the good memories than the sad ones.

Take time to plan ahead and know you have to make your own shoes and not try to fit in to his shoes. This is the time to apply every life lesson the old man taught you. Time is all you have now to make your dad more proud than you already have. This is the time we come in as friends and let you know your loss is our loss.

You only have time Pete. This is the time to do deal with what is happening in your life right now; time to do emulate Mr. Romanus and be the man we’ve always known you to be. I can never fully comprehend what you feel but I know what you’re capable of and you can only come back ready to conquer the world.

I’m sorry for the loss of your old man and pass my heartfelt condolences to you, Bella, your elder sisters, mother and family.