“Wakasa, Nocha Mwirobi Okhayiya sa na bikhana ta.’’
“Wakasa, when you go to Nairobi, study, don’t just focus on making the rounds with women.”
That’s what Wakasa’s grandmother told him before he moved to Nairobi five years ago. Right now I am seated next to him, patiently waiting for him to stop crying. I am tempted to quietly walk out of the house and let him cry his eyes dry, but my curiosity gets the better of me. I wonder if it’s the same old or something completely different is making him weep for the umpteenth time in five years.
“Wakasa, what is it today?”
He violently throws the keys to his Subaru Forester on the table and leans back on the sofa. He slowly throws his right arm across his face, covering his eyes. I wonder if this time he picked up a girl in the club and got hit by her boyfriend? I shrug and silently watch him sneer.
“Remember I gave up on picking girls at the club the moment I graduated and found a job?”
He asks softly and I only nod before laughing.
“You decided to find one in the church because you think that girls in the church will give you peace.”
Wakasa smiles widely and nods. I know a narration is coming in the next five, four, three, two, one.
“So, uhm, four Sundays ago I met this chic in church.” He starts and I smile. Whatever is making me late for the ice cream party with my blanket better be good.
“On that day she wore an ankle-length, navy-blue body shaper with white high heels. Her afro was big, and it bobbed every time she walked.” Wakasa pauses and turns to face me.
“Anita, she looked so beautiful, elegant and humble.” I nod and motion for him to keep going.
“I talked to her that Sunday and asked for her phone number with the excuse that I will call her and update on my availability in the next Home bible fellowship that was to be held in her house. After that we talked a lot. She is knowledgeable and highly intelligent by the way.” I roll my eyes and watch him rub circles on his chest before proceeding.
“We went for three dates these past three weeks and then, the day before yesterday I invited her to my house.”
I cringe and then a certain thought crosses my mind. Did they do it where I am seated?
“Yo, you guys did not do it here, did you?” I ask, gesturing on the three-seater that he and I were sitting on. Wakasa scoffs and answers,
“It’s my house, I can do it anywhere, even on the ceiling.” I gape at him but before I can retort my reply, he continues,
“Anyway, she agreed and came.” I lazily lean forward and take my green water bottle from the table.
“I had bought KFC chicken, fries, pizza, I mean, I didn’t want her to think that she will starve here.” I smirk. Dude never learns.
“She checks out my house, makes us tea, says how I am doing well for myself as a twenty-six-year-old male. I tell you, my ego was bursting with the amount of praise I received. An hour later we are comfortably seated here watching some show. I would have loved to kiss her but enhee, anxiety. My hands started sweating.” I raise an eyebrow the moment I hear anxiety. The amount of women he has brought here and seriously tilled their lands with his jembe makes me wonder how he can still have a problem making a move but what he says next makes me stop wondering.
“I liked her and for the first time I wanted to try and make whatever me and her were building between us, work.” I nod and keep quiet to let him continue.
“She surprised me though. Anita, verses in the bible made me lose my sanity and thirty thousand shillings.”
Well, this is new. Its always, alcohol, weed, today it’s the bible. Smart woman.
“Waka, do you know what the book, Songs of Solomon chapter one says.” Wakasa tries to imitate the woman’s tone making me laugh. Wakasa frowns.
“It’s no laughing matter Anita.” I make the motion of zipping my mouth and try so hard to be silent. It won’t do if he left the story hanging.
“So, she tells me how it’s written, let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine and goes farther to explain several more verses.” I couldn’t hold it in. I burst into laughter. This time he laughed too.
“Wue, I was stunned, trying to warp my head around what she was trying to mean. Next thing I know, this chic is on my lap and we are kissing like our lives depend on it. A minute later I am grabbing…”
“Stop.” I interrupt him, “Please skip the finer details of the event.”
He laughs and I shake my head.
“Five hours later, when all was tilled and cleaned, she insisted on leaving. Now, I was looking forward to a cozier night but apparently, she had other plans. You can’t force someone to stay, so I dropped her off in front of some apartments in Roysambu. By the time I was driving back to town it was eight P.M.” I frown and frantically gesture for him to stop.
“If you are in the same Home Bible Fellowship, that girl should be living around Lang’ata not in Roysambu.” I ask, try so hard not to laugh at him again.
“I know, I Know. I asked her and she said that she moved last week. Anyway, to get to the point, So I get home and decide to check my pockets for my wallet I had some finances to plan. It was gone.” Forgive me, but I laughed and almost fell off the sofa. Wakasa ignored me and continued.
“It was in the pocket of the trousers I had worn earlier, the only time she had access to it was when she was straddling me and telling me those words of Solomon. She probably took them when we were making out and put it close to her purse, which was just next to me.”
“So, what exactly made you weep? The fact that for the first time everything wasn’t in your control or the fact that for the first time you were not keen enough and got stolen from?”
I ask seriously trying to pry reasons out of him because I know him, and he would never have cried over any of those things I have just mentioned.
“No, yesterday she blocked me everywhere and apparently forgot my Instagram account. She took her boyfriend to Mombasa with my money.”
I laughed. He laughed. I only stopped when I realized that he was breaking down not laughing because he found it funny.
“The one time I decide to settle for a relationship. I thought people who went to church are good.”
I quietly watch him for a while before saying,
“Yes, the church has genuine people, but it also has people who try to cover and hide their sinful ways in the cloak of religion.”
Wakasa looks at me and then leans back on the seat. I wonder what will happen to him and his elegant Mercy now. I would love to know what he and Mercy will tell each other on Sunday, I am sure she will be present, after all, she is the head of praise and worship in our church.
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