She broke my heart too Part I

By LEONNARD OJWANG
Published July 14, 2009

Part I

For the best part of last year, I had lived a life full of freedom, which had more to do with commitments than submissiveness. A life full of promises, kept and broken, realized and lost, paranoiac or otherwise. However, the end of last November was different. We had been invited to this Thanksgiving Party by a classmate called Kate, who apparently celebrates her birthdays on Nov 26 to coincide with Thanksgiving Day. However, that day was a day like no other. She had thrown in a baptism party for her one-year-old baby girl, whom I honestly thought had a head a little too big for her age.

Now, let’s get some of the rules right! One, I was there to eat not to contribute any dollar. Two, after filling up, I should have been allowed to leave at will. Three, I should have been allowed to isolate myself with any good looking girl present in the party, who claimed to be “single” on Facebook, Hi5 or MySpace.

So there I was at a baptism-party-cum-birthday-cum-thanksgiving party of someone I called my friend; at a social function of a one-year-old kid, whose name I didn’t even know, at a party whose attendees came for a “hook-up mission” than anything else. In the midst of all the hassle, I prayed silently so that I would be lucky enough to leave with any good-looking girl present. I didn’t know the agenda for the party neither was I aware that we were to contribute to buy a gift for the baby (remember I wasn’t interested in knowing her name too). The gift according to the ‘inner-circle girls’ could be anything electronic, including a Wii or even a computer.

After the formalities with Kate and allowing my dry smile to linger for about three minutes as I exchanged handshakes with other bachelors and bachelorettes, I hung around trying to polish my thick accent and forcing conversations with a guy called Ryan. His yellow tanned teeth and darkened lips had been a product of heavy smoking since the beginning of his adolescent life. No sooner had I asked him how many sticks he smoked a day than we heard somebody commenting, “This girl is finally here!”

I swiftly turned around to see the girl being referred to. My eyes locked on her forehead as she hugged Kate by the entrance and I could hear my breathing progressively becoming hard. She was beautiful. Only if she would give everyone a hug! I really needed it badly. At least it would bring back the circadian rhythm the love life I had lost eons ago.

In those few seconds I saw something different in her tenacity, audacity and boldness. She looked like she was twenty-something, mature, ambitious and lovable. Her eyelids draped in black makeup matched her shiny black high-heeled shoes. Her perfect dimples short-circuited my ability to resist girls – I mean I was sold. Her small nose had been reworked to an attractive organ for the picture-hungry Facebookers. Her lips, full, soft and succulent were so real they should have been for angels. And her hairdo, which had the African tinge was the type I crave for – simple and elegant. She was a killer material just from the outside packaging. This truly amused me, but my smile quickly became lazy, soft and if you can’t think of a better word, hollow.

By the time she introduced herself to me, her beauty had been preying in my mind for about three minutes, disturbing my masculine ego. I must admit there was no lust at all. I’m not the kind who lusts for women. Look, I must admit also that I had fallen prey to her guiles and her vibrant stature. My heart wanted her, at least, it needed a woman it would love unconditionally. My mind appreciated her without any hard motives, at least I could hear it mourning to own her.

She looked quickly into my eyes as we hugged, and I involuntarily pressed my face against hers, struggling to keep the hug long enough to prevent my heart from falling into the very bottom of my belly. “Can we have a private talk after this party?” I heard myself whisper into her ears. It was fascinating to see her face twist from that statement. Suddenly, I became aware of some unusual rush of warm blood in my arteries.

My jaw muscles tightened, and I shifted my stony eyes, glittering with poisonous lust away from her. Everybody was shocked at the sight of a little known ambitious Kenyan guy from Siaya Kogelo having his one-minute of fame with a Texan-Mexican crossbreed at a little known baby girl’s baptismal party in a little known south side apartment in College Station, Texas. The scene had caused a smothering stillness in the room. I could say nothing. She also could say nothing. It was panning out between us as if this had been planned. If it were you, what would you say?

She leant against my chest for one minute or so, her twisted face glistening with venomous happiness like a kitten’s. Her eyes, now blank and unfocussed, had lost their color and one look into my black-colored eyes made her gasp for her breadth. I momentarily looked right into her eyes, searching for her honesty, her love and her power. When my eyes dropped down to her lips, I lost my breathing rhythm. ‘Wow!!’ is the word. Poor Kenyan, you started the fire, you must extinguish it, and I could hear my soul crying.

I began whispering some words, but the poor black muscles around my lips had lost their strength and could not shape the sentences well. She suddenly became conscious of how frantically I was trying to dig for English sentences from my inadequate word bank. To break the silence, I placed my fingers on her blonde shampooed hair, playing with them like a toddler until they were fanned against her shoulders in nice rainbow curls. I quickly licked my drying lips, listening to her uneven heartbeats with growing restlessness. She grinned and closed her eyes then tightened her arms around me. We stayed like that for I don’t know how long. “What do they call you?” I asked her slowly.

“Ali.” She said. “I mean, my friends do. My parents and siblings call me Alexandria,” she explained.

She pulled away and looked at me with awakening interest. I could see that her figure was superb and her now brown, sightless eyes became enormous as lust blended with inexperience.

“Where are you from?’” she wanted to know. “Your accent ….. I mean you have a heavy accent!”

“Can you take a guess?” I teased. Actually I just wanted to know if she had any brains.

This was beginning to look interesting. We had a lengthy talk about food, weather, roads, cultures and relationships. When we exhausted everything, I went to Ryan to ask for his opinion. But before I could ask what was so unique about this beautiful girl, Ryan began shredding her in my ears.

TO BE CONTINUED

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