ME

ME

ME: 
 

The sun kisses my skin and I woke up from my nap on the shores of the beautiful dark blue friendly Indian ocean. My legs are a little numb from covering them with the white sand. I don't know why but I always do it and the sweet light rays of the sun soothe me to sleep. A few couples and kids pass by and smile at me, I smile back and I feel my jaws warning, "why are you smiling?" I think am tired, I should go home, but home is boring. 

    Same people, same bed, same meals

 But it is my life, and I will tell you about me because something that is about to change. This, is me.

 People around me have expectations in their minds, trust me I feel them, but am also failing them day by day. But like I just told you this isn't you, it is me. I walk home at night even when my mum yells and warns me to be in the house by six. Am not complaining.

I've been anticipating change for quite some time now, this could be good. 

    I look at the sky and am smiling at the bright blue clear sky. My small shadow seems to enjoy my company, but I’m not so sure. We never talk, we just walk through the shores finding my way home. 

    The old and the young look at me like am a criminal. Maybe I am, a spoilt girl they think. Do I care? No, I don't think so, not that it is not important how they think but hey, I can't change their thinking. The more reason I need to welcome change. 

    I know change can be scary, but am not scared right now, I think I just need it, for an adventure. 

   As I walk home the ocean breeze caresses my face and I keep walking, watching the waves breaking loose and good swimmers showing off their styles. I smile because nature is so live. 

   The birds fly above the waves and keep moving further. Sometimes I wish I was a bird. Do you think I love flying, no, not really? I just love how free they are. 

    Even if you think I am indisciplined, who leaves home without saying a thing? I know maybe you got a best friend with your parents or siblings. I am all alone. I was not born alone, in fact, am just but the last born. 

   I know how you view the last born but I can tell you my story is far beyond your imagination. 

    As I get close to our compound, all sandy, beach wear but hey it's not that bad. As I said I love freedom and I am careless about people's thoughts.

You must think what a crazy girl, irresponsible, disrespectful, and annoying, I swear to you I accept but it's all about to change, not for you to love me but for me to have what I want. 

    Don't ask yourself what I need. I said freedom. Not just a cheap one, I need a whole package of it. You won't understand, you have never been here, and if you were you never experienced anything close to my story. But this is why it's mine. So it begins.

        As scared as I was of change I never expected it to work in my direction. 

   Food on the table, well arranged like in a class of meal management. 

   "A new Cook?" I sensed. 

I find mama smiling suspiciously. 

    "Food is ready.’’ she says. 

   "What time is it?" I asked, trying to rub sand from my hands. 

   "It's noon." She states, making a smile. This is unusual, am used to arguments, scolds, and abuse but this time it does not make sense to me. May be this what is what I need.

    I want to say "sorry mama, I was not home yesterday." But to who shall I say those words. ?

   "I'll be in my room," I say the only thing that my mouth can form as a sentence because my mind is silent.

      I think of showering but my bones are too lazy, I just want to eat and get out again, but this time I have no idea where I am going. I think I should change the places I visit. I don't want you to think am a boring person, but neither am I funny. Am just a girl, searching to fulfill an unknown craving that's growing inside me, and day by day trying to find its way to the light. Someday I will let you know how it came about but for now, let's focus on me.

 Anyway, I gather myself up to rub the sand off my body. When I come back from the bathroom I peep through the curtains and this guy!

   I know this is about me but "this guy" is beginning to take over my story. I see him when I leave, and he kinder looks like a stalker. I've always been afraid of stalkers, but I also don't think he is one. 

  We have been neighbors for years but I don't even know his name, let alone notice him until today. 

    He is shirtless, seated on their balcony, reading whatever that book is all about but still his neck forces him to face my room. 

    I am supposed to change my clothes, but that's like being in front of him, naked. My face frowns, I hate him already. I think he notices my mood swings and leaves his chair to God knows where. I do not care, at least I get to put on something.

 Getting downstairs, I look at the food and my mother seated on the far left end of the table facing the door. She is in her thinking room, perhaps wondering where her husband is. My father. I don't like to seem disrespectful nor let you have an impression that I hate him, no, in fact, he was the best person I ever knew when I was growing up. 

   childhood memories of him are what keeps me coming back to this hail of a house. 

   He sang me to sleep, he bought all kinds of toys that my friends never had. Speaking of friends, all my childhood friends have kids, some in school, I lost track of all of them. Why do you think am all alone here? 

   Anyway, I don't want to talk about my old friends. Right now I just want to get out of here. 

    "Won't you have a bite?" She says with concern. 

"Am not hungry," I say as I head to the door. Then I bump into the man of the house.

   I should tell you one thing, my father is the lion in this jungle of a home. My father hates people who move from place to place for no reason. But why do they think I have no reason to go to the beach, to a concert, a movie theater, a show, the laughing Industry, and the rest I can't let you know...I love rooftops too but they are not our houses. He is here, my eyes almost pop out.

 My dad is an industrious man; I think too industrious for his age. That's not the problem, he wants all of us to work harder than him. He says we won't inherit a penny from him. I don't want anything from anyone I don't like working hard. Don't mistake me for slag, I love to work but not hard. Hate me but am not going to lie in my story. I work only when it is necessary. I hate struggles but I love eating the fruits of success. 

"Where are you going?" He asks curiously.

   "Just going to see a friend." I lie. 

   "I thought you never liked friends." 

"I didn't...

" Hello, sir?" A deep polite voice interrupted behind my father. 

   He smiled and turned to check. 

   "Oh, who do we have here?" He gave a fake smile. 

It was the guy next door.

 I frown, and my father keeps the fake smile. Turned to the "stranger" that I see next to my window. 

"Why is he here?" I bite my lower lip. Good thing my dad is blocking him from my image. Then through the shoulders, I see him smile. 

"Mmh" I clear my throat intentionally. 

I want to get out of the house. That was the plan, but my plans are about to change. 

   I like change, and it's what I needed but this is not what I thought. 

 "Am here to see your daughter sir" he tells my dad. 

   "Maybe he means Elsa, my elder sister, but she is not here." I thought. 

   "Which daughter?" My dad asks. Still blocking my way. 

   Then our eyes are fixed on the guy, at an angle that will only be calculated by us, I think it was 180° but I quickly fixed my eyes on the floor. 

   I hate being intimidated, and this feeling is making me stupid before my dad. My heart lurches and I need to get out of here. 

  "This one right here sir." He states. Pointing right at me. 

   My eyes nearly pop out and my dad looks at me not smiling, surprised I guess. 

   "Oh okay, I guess she was on her way to you." He says giving way to my small statue of a body.

 I close the door behind me. I look at the person waiting for me. Combed black hair, dark skin, and well built. He smiles but his teeth are hidden, he is a little shy I guess. 

   He offers his hand to shake mine. "Hey sorry to bother you. I am Yash." He says politely. Deep voice. 

   I look at him straight into his eyes and am wondering why he is here. 

   "And you are?" My mind goes away, I remember Lenny. In high school. Sorry am trying to bring the wrong person into my story, let's see how this one changes me. It's the present me we need to view and I want you to hear why he is knocking on my story. 

   "Mmmh" he clears his throat intentionally and I get back to the surface of our introduction. 

   "You are?" He asks again. 

   "Sorry," I say. Shaking his hand. He is strong, he works out I think. 

He is looking at me in wonder, and I quickly remember it's my turn to pronounce my name. 

  "Zeinab," I say. But my siblings call me Zein." I continue. 

"And Friends?" He asks. I frown. 

"They don't know my name," I say.

         "What!" He is surprised. Am not surprised that he is,  except he is making it uncomfortable for me. 

   I start to look at my dress, blue and sleeveless. I love it, my elder brother bought it for me. It is my favorite. For some reason, today I feel it's short, it's disturbing, and as the wind whispers through the trees, creeping to my legs and raising the hem of it. I feel embarrassed somehow. I have never felt this way; I feel like leaving where I was heading. Trust me, I always want to get away from home and today I was not sure where I was going and this guy is even making it hard for me to think. 

   "Sorry. I don't have friends." I speak closely to whispering. 

   "You're a funny girl." He comments. 

   "I doubt that." I find my jaws relaxing and I smile. 

   "Do you have somewhere to be?" He asks again. Am beginning to relax as I walk close to him around the compound to the gate. 

    "No I just wanted to go for a picnic...a lonely picnic. I love being on my own. Sorry I have no friends." I feel guilty for talking too much, explaining a lot,  and expressing myself to a stranger, he doesn't owe me all this but...

   "I like your style." He interrupts my guilty thoughts. 

    "You don't know my style," I say. 

   "Maybe I do." He admits. 

    We open the gate and I still don't know where I am going.

   "Where are you goin?." I come back to myself, the rude me.

          When this side of me takes over, I hardly listen I get so annoyed and I just can't stand any sight of an object, and this time he is the one in view. 

   "Can I show you something?" He interrupts my evil thoughts. Only God knows what I wanted to do. I pause my imagination to hear him out. "Yash" I call him inside my mind and as he reads it to my face, he tries to explain himself. 

   "Sorry I know you have plans of your own. It's just something I did and I wish you could be the first person to see."

   Curiosity draws near my side and I am feeling a little guilty for some thoughts, thank God I did not put my thought into my hands. 

    I look at him and I feel strange, of courses what did I expect from a stranger? 

    "Yash am sorry. I got something I should do today before the sun sets. " I don't know where that sentence came from but am so grateful it saved me at that point.

    "Oh am sorry." He says. I accept his apology with a fake smile and walked in his direction.

           As I walk through the streets, my mind tells me to stop and turn my head back but my neck is filled with pride and all my eyes want to don't matter here. My knees push me harder and I keep going like a crazy drunkard teen. 

    Life can be so hard with weird moments like this. I can't say I hate Yash, maybe I don't like the fact that he is winning my affection and I think it's really risky spending more time with such a guy. I want to be on my own, follow my path and write this story as my own, not have someone coming in and take over everything I have built from the start. But that is just exactly what you have not heard. At the end of this street, there is an old man, well not too old but above my father's age, maybe five years older than my old man, I like spending some time there when I face intimidating moments with my parents and sibling. 

   "Zein," he almost shouts with excitement. 

   "Hey, my sweet girl." He greets. 

I never really thought about it until now, and it begins to disturb me, "sweet girl" that's what he says but really? How sweet! Especially when I don't even carry anything for him. I smile and shake his hand in pleasure as I go to sit on the brown couch. It's peaceful and I can tell you it has given serenity to my mind, out there, storms are real.

Staying with grandpa, and sharing a tin of vanilla ice cream with his wife felt good. It makes me miss old times with my family. When my older sister was still staying with us. We fought every day though and our mother got tired of the fight she decided to let things go. She was right and when I think about it I think we stopped arguing and fighting until sheet me for university. I miss that sometimes. Or maybe I don't.

        Then my ovaries broke loose from nowhere. Nothing humbles me like my cramps. I felt my legs weak as the fruit escaped the broken prison and I have no choice but to run out of the house. Change of mood, change of facial expression, and everything, and everyone was blocking me. I felt pain but this time new pain like I was going to birth twins the next few minutes. I looked around as I walk back home and I just wanted to seat on the road and scream my pain out but I couldn't. My throat was blocked by something stronger than anger and I knew the next thing is my tears wet and my cheeks spreading my tears to the face of the world. I did. I cried, this is the only time I want my mama close to me. No one else mattered. I always cry. In high school, I thought I could bear and I tried to stay strong, trust me I nearly fainted in class. I have my medication just for this pain. And they say it's three-quarters of labor pain. I love babies, I love holding babies I've held one of grandpa's grandchildren and I wished I had mine but this pain!

       As I get close to our gate, I see Yash. Nothing scares me like a guy noticing my vulnerability especially not on my period. I just hate embarrassment. I sheepishly walk towards him, not because I want to but am forced to. He is standing waiting for me, I have no idea why and at this point I won't ask. I just want my mama. I look at him and he notices my red eyes but I say nothing. I open the gate and leave him standing right where he was. My mind gets confused, I go into the house and I find no one. 

   I call out a scream for my mama and no one is responding to me. "They are not here," Yash says behind me. 

    I look at him and ran up to my room. I get inside the bathroom and let the shower cool my body. 

   I know Yash is waiting but I have no idea why. I put on some covers of cause and went to my parent's room to find some painkillers. 

   "Zein, they are not here." He says to me.

               Everyone expects the change to bring out the best in them but change can surprise us and I look around but pretend to see nothing. My eyes soak wet in hot tears, I forget the pain inside me and new pain creeps in and takes over. I do not want to think of what exactly is going on but I can see. Yash, I don't know what is running through his mind but he seems to understand the space I need right now. 

   Here is something I did not tell you, my parents. I did not think it was important for me to tell you about them in my story but right now, to understand me, you have to know a few things about them. 

   They fight a lot; I mean physical fights. I hate it, it's the reason I hate home, I love both of them and I hate the fact that I have to watch sometimes because there is nowhere I can go. What can you do when you wake up in the middle of the night and your parents are arguing and slapping each other? Horrible nightmare. you wish it.

    I do not like spending more time with them around, the fear of them hitting each other is too much to bear. But we don't choose who sores us. 

   I recall mama, when I came in, how she was, I thought of dad. They fought at night! How could I have missed that... Oh, I wasn't here. 

   Looking at their room, they left. But all of them together? It can't be. 

   "What happened?" I asked trying to find a seat. 

   "Your mama, packed her bags, called a taxi and your father was angry I don't know if he followed her or what, but he drove his car and left too. 

   This is what change feels like, it's uncomfortable, painful it's hard to accept. I sit just one meter away from Yash like he's got Covid 19.

     My mind takes me back to when mama left and how hard it was to even comb my hair at school. Maybe my sister can narrate well. 

    I ask Yash for his phone. I lost mine the other week I can't remember where and how. Well if I did I wouldn't have said I lost it. 

    I want to cry, but I have more important things to do than cry. I call my sister and tell her everything. 

    "What did you do this time Zein?" She asked. Is she blaming me for it? Damn, I just knew it she will never side with me. I hang up and tears just roll. But I pretend nothing is happening. I call my brother, he is too busy with work and feels like his parents should solve their issues without him. Maybe he is right. 

    I wipe my tears and stand up. 

   "I want to get out of here," I say to Yash. Poor guy, he just tried to get into my life at the wrong time, but I don't think he has an option of living. Deep down I feel comforted he is around.

     I think life is trying to teach me a lesson, but am guessing failure will be the choice fate chose for me. 

    I want to be strong but I can't be without the poles to stand on. I need my parents here. 

   I know in the beginning loneliness was preferable to home to the same around. I never asked for this type of change I wanted.

When the gale of change blows strong and spooky enough it's either I'll be blown like chaff or find something or someone to hold you. In my situation, Yash was here to hold me, but I was also afraid of falling on him and not able to stand on my own. Where is the freedom I was looking for? Why is this so hard to hold on to? The question knocked my head and my eyes got wet in tears. 

   "Can I be alone please?" I murdered Yash. 

"I do not think it's a good idea that you want solitude." He responded to her. 

   "Yash." She whispered his name. 

   "Yes." 

"Just go please." She begged him again. He looked at her and lost words. He stood and without looking back he left. 

   After closing the door, she went to her room and cried to sleep. 

   Waking up she did not feel a thing until reality unveiled itself before her eyes in the middle of the night. 

    She looked around, no cramps, no lights. She stood to switch on her light and walked downstairs to find something to eat. 

   Sometimes the things feared by people to make them weak are those that could make them stronger. 

    "I need a plan now." She said.

 My father got home the next morning, I have no idea where he had been and I wasn't going to ask.  I did not care, I just got used to being alone but not lonely. I never wanted to be in a lonely house nor did I want mama to leave. 

   My father went upstairs without a word. 

   Maybe silence was a nice treatment or the only treatment left. After a week of being alone in the house, just Yash was stalking me, checking for my presence from a certain angle on my window. 

    I forgot about my agenda for a while until one night of overthinking and trying to figure out myself I realize I do not want to be around. So I made my decision that night.

 Don't be Alice in wonderland, I cared about my parents but I did not want them to think I was a burden to them. I hated the fact that I was around to see what could happen if I begin asking them for anything. And when my mind agreed with my heavy heart to leave I made it practical that morning...

    I went to the place you might expect I would go. Yash's place. 

   "Sorry to bother you this morning," I said when he opened the door. He stood there looking at me. I know those eyes, he was sorry for me, but I did not let him into my mind. I smiled sarcastically. 

   Yash was lost, his mind was searching for something I do not want to know where, or what it was, he just left his eyes with me. 

   "I missed you." He said. 

"Is he trying to...no I don't want to know." I thought. When I lack answers I give out a smile. 

   "Can I come in.?" I asked politely. 

   "Oh am sorry, of cause, sure..." He got away from the door and I went inside.

 "Your mother pampers you too much, you're eighteen but can't think of something constructive to do, all you do is put on your pants and go around the beach like it is a compound of exposure. Look at Mr. Wanjes's daughter, she is your age mate but she is earning already. Look at you...

" dad stop!" First time I found those words run out of mouth. I trembled like a life knowing my words could send me directly to hell. An over thinker I was but my mind took me to the right place, hell! 

"You are a very ungrateful little girl. Why can't you people learn from me? Now, here you go, grab your things and go to your brother or your sister it's your choice. I cannot take care of someone who will give me a heart attack." My father gave me some notes. I wanted to say no but I said nothing. If you want to fly you got to be quiet and learn, you cannot just fly. I do not want to fly, I want to be in the air, or maybe the power that holds planes and birds as they fly. I said I need a whole package of everything. 

   My final thoughts before I left my father's house were, "I wish my mama would return, I wish my dad would stop for a moment and think what a wonderful soul my mama has. We all have been unfair to her." But wishes were not horses I wouldn't be here. 

    I hate my brother's wife, she is bossy and annoying, my sister blames me for everything and so I have no one but Yash.

      Yash is munificent from the look of things but I still can't give him my trust. He is mystical and too good to be true. I still do not know why I came to his place and something tells my mind "let's just leave" but another voice begs me to stay glued on the couch. I smile when he comes back with a glass of juice. I still haven't asked anything, and he takes my bags one by one, to another room across the corridor.

        "You already know why am here Yash. Listen keenly to my proposal." That was two days staying with Yash watch him play his guitar. I haven't asked him what he does for a living, but I need to earn a living myself. 

   As we sat to have breakfast, I broke the silence. 

   "I need a job, do not need school, I also don't need to stay with my family. It's why I came here Yash." I said to him. 

   "Oh, that's okay. I know I have not told you much, I just graduated last month from Management university. But I love music and I learned the guitar and it's comforting." He said. 

   "I don't know much about instruments but I do sing also. Have a few songs from high school, only that none of my family members believe in me, however, I also love fashion, I did home science and I can...

   " I already have an idea. Let's duet, I'll be playing my guitar and you will sing," he said excitedly. 

   I liked Yash but with this mind, I might get a little far. I watched him admirably as he kept talking, we got a book, draft our plan and my musical journey began germinating. The fantasies of being a musician, fame, and wealth knocked my head but Yash warned me. "Discipline is Paramount for success to be realized." That was our motto in high school" he stated word by word. 

    Yash got me a phone with some of the money my Father gave me. I did not share my plan with anyone, the fear of being disappointed was too much for me to handle. I knew my mother would be at her maternal home but me being the reason she left, I had to break my own heart. "If I have to get her to stay with me, I need to get my own life together first." I thought. 

   Days went by, we kept practicing and my attraction for Yash grew even healthier. I denied it but every time our skins touched the butterflies people told me about were dancing historically in my stomach and I would quickly get to my room, and find more oxygen to grasp. Cool, my heart race. Then on our first performance at a club, we got booked to perform at a public meeting at the beach and earned a few notes. Yash encouraged me to get my national ID. 

    A week after we kissed accidentally before our audience and none of us wants to talk about it.   

    "Is the song ready for the coming wedding?" He asked one afternoon as I was cleaning the dishes.  

    "Yeah. Just finalizing. I'll give you to see. Then we will try it tonight." I quickly fished and wanted to leave his sight when he held my hand. 

    "Am I that worse of a kisser?" He said. 

  I was surprised, but laughter took the best part of me and I laughed too much that he loosed my hand, crossed his hands over his chest, and watched me helplessly bursting almost falling. 

    "What's funny." Oh my God! He is serious. 

   "No... nothing" I tried to be serious as I picked myself from the floor. 

   I held his hands and smiled again. Our eyes met at 180° an angle we never thought would exist between us. 

   "You are just the best kisser I've ever known. But don't make me lose myself in public like that." I left him thinking. 

            He smiled watching me walk slowly to my room.

People walked into the church to witness a vow of two people and when our time came to sing, I looked at Yash and my confidence filled up, we performed and everyone was satisfied. When we got to the reception, my brother showed up. 

   "So you are someone's wife am told." Said to my face. 

   "Who said that?" 

"Social media, people post you kissing him in public. You refused to go to school, you abandoned your family, you made mother leave...and now you're moving around kissing a man in public." This whole time Yash had gone to the washroom. 

  Everyone was now watching my brother insulting me. 

   "Pick your staff up right now, we are leaving." without a second thought I stood from my chair and he held my hand walked me out of the crowd and we left. 

   The silence was my company, I never talked, never smiled, or laughed. My storybook was blank pages; I did not carry my phone. No one gave me one to contact Yash. Father came in the evening of my arrival and stated to me the rules and regulations. 

" am taking you to the states. Everything you need will be ready by the end of the week and you can leave." I kept quiet until the night I switched on the Yv to watch my favorite show, chat spot. Yash was there! 

   "I don't know where she is, am hoping she is happy." My brother came to switch it off. 

   "Happy?" I thought. Was I happy here, do these people know what happiness is, they look miserable, my brother's wife is so controlling, and no one is happy. 

   Trust me, at this moment I realized I was the only character in my story that has experienced happiness. We had laughed with Yash, a grandmother from the streets. We made people happy with music, so I went to the sitting room and shouted. 

  "I don't need states to be happy, I don't even need you guys controlling my life, this is a path I've chosen, I never bothered you all about it and no one should bother me, am going to find my happiness and I shall bring my mama, home where she can be happy. Tell father I love him but am not letting him ruin my life like he ruined yours, chose you a bitch of a wife who controls every move you make. Am done here." 

   I left.

 My sister was at the door coming in. "Hello dear sister. I wish that you can let it go, grow up and stop blaming others for your sad life." I told her. I felt nice spitting all the truth to their faces d I felt freedom, I had no idea how I would get to Yash without a coin but with the will to go, there will be a way. 

    "Zein" someone shouted behind me, my brother. 

   I stopped and looked behind. 

   "I will come with you. He said. 

  Here is something you did not know about my brother, he was a lover of music, he used to sing to me when I was young, life happened and he forgot about his dream. I smiled at him, and hugged him knowing he was ready to chase his dream, my sister stopped drawing because our father wanted her to be an air hostess. she hates it but she is doing it

   " how about your wife?" I asked him.

  "We were not legally married; the house belongs to father." We laughed as we got into a taxi. He paid. 

   Yash was not back from the interview until late at night. My brother decided to go back to our house after we talked to Yash. He would join us in the morning. A night back to Yash.

   The night I gave him all my heart, my love will be his until he decides to change the story. 

   Performing and gigs earned us money and when the year ended. I gave my brother all the money I had made. We agreed to buy a house and get our mother. 

   The next Christmas, we came home and all the members of the family were there. Even my boyfriend's parents. 

   This is what I wanted to see, a happy family. But I needed my freedom to remember, a full package of it. 

  "Guys, Yash and I have decided, we need our own house," I announced. 

   "But you already have a house son?" His mother asked. 

   "We mean to get a house at the beach with our own money. We appreciate it, but this is what we need. Each of us will have our own house. It's decided. " 

   Mama was happy for me; I cod see her eyes in disbelief. 

  "My little girl with so much to offer, big mind and wise." She said. She will cry if I don't stop her. 

   "I want to spend some time with my sister alone so this house is ours. Sis, do you understand?" I couldn't believe how far I'd come, in three years and I was eating the fruits of my freedom, my choice, the path I walked head high. 

   I close the book, but before that, there is no me, without us. I can proudly say this is our story, not mine. We've walked through this path with my family and friends. This is Us.

BY: EMILLY FURAHA CHARO