Titles

Titles and I have a love-hate relationship-cum-affair that is yet to come to an end. Clearly I had no idea what to name this post and you can see what I stumbled upon. I need the kind of creativity that was bestowed upon the people who name milk and bread brands; I mean who could have ever thought of Pascha and Selecta? Lol. But I maybe a lost case whatsoever because it seems everything comes to its demise once a title is achieved, like 99 percent of the relationships I’ve been in. Just like when the cool guy gets the cute girl in movies and the movie comes to an end, well technically it ends on both sides if you think about. Maybe I’m an actor and my life is a series of blockbuster movies. Who knows? Today I am compelled to give a tale that ends with a title;it literally ends after that too. They always do. My life’s more of a joke and I often laugh about it too. Like how people believe that since I am named Kambai I come from the land where rain seldom visits and it’s people have natural preference for mangoes and anything else that shares its color in the ripened state. Even one of my closest friends is part of the pack unfortunately; I was definitely offended but despite having an acre of a forehead that reflects the sun’s rays that she hides when using Snapchat filters, she is still one of the most beautiful girls I’ve seen, again after Rihanna, and I may shoot my shot in a while. I’m waiting for the right moment, talk about timed finishing(Slide for throughpass in the meantime). Before I diverted, I was telling you about a girl. Beautiful. Smart. She is also an avid reader of the junk I write here so if she sues me for not giving her her share of whatever proceeds I receive from here then I may require your help to enlist a lawyer to save my face(Some good soul sent me 100 bob airtime after the previous post, may God bless him and you too). However, she’s the silent type and may decide to laugh off the memories that she may have been reminded of here without her consent. Before the days of being asked “tuma fare” began, my high school driver offered me a ride to where the girl schooled in exchange for my participation in mathematics contest held by her school. They believed that my schoolmates and I would at least not bring zeros back home as was notorious of such events. All I can say is I didn’t get a zero; the rest is history. Let’s call her Joy for the purposes of this story; there are many Joys out here,aren’t there? So after finishing the time allocated for the paper but not the paper itself, we went out for the main business of the day; making acquaintances and starting relationships that would only last to the next midterm break. And so I met Joy and her friend who may one day feature in another story but not today. Joy and I clicked as one would say in the tongue of lovebirds. Therefore our conversations did not end there but were carried forward by Posta Kenya as they ensured all my sentiments and missments of her were delivered. Diligent as she was, she ensured I never suffered what men of this generation suffer in form of blue ticks but also sent her love and greetings in her replies. A year later she honors the invitation and comes visiting where I used to study; another mathematics contest. I’m glad I didn’t have to send fare. I received her with all gladness and with a letter and poem to boot; Sauti sol lyrics sprinkled here and there for dramatic effects. We sat under a tree as flowers fell beside us as she read the poem in her heart while I followed her eyes to tell she read every word. Perfect romance? Well soon enough I was ready to shoot my shot. And I did. And I waited. Soon enough the reply came. And it did not begin with my name but instead, a title;sweetheart. Whatever chemistry assignments I had for that week had to be put aside as I read and reread the contents of the letter till I knew them by heart. To date I still remember them and a riddle that still troubles my mind. This story was to end with a title and the title is here;where does it end then? Just there. I couldn’t wait to get home and talk to her but the next time we spoke it all came to an end. Just like that. And titles and I have never been good friends again; not that we were. Joy is still a friend, no love lost. And I wonder if she’ll smile after reading this too. So if I ask for your help get a title for something or I escape a decision that involves a title, forgive me.