Date With the Devils – Part Two

That’s how I escaped Dr. Sasha’s advice. Zainabu was the next counselor in my list……

…………Zainabu was the next counselor in my list but I actually had a tough time on deciding whether I had to continue seeking help after what had happen with Dr. Sasha. I didn’t predict that all she could offer me was mild headache. My ultimate wish was to be redeemed from this situation which was preparing my ticket direct to eternal condemnation. Anyway, many are the times this ‘Never give up’ cliche has hit me. I was not going to ignore the statement at this trial time.

Well, Zainabu the lawyer came right in my mind as I walked down the streets of Koinange, I just needed to buy some water to swallow my tabs and later contact her so that I can book an appointment. It took time before I discovered that I was actually in Koinange Street where you don’t expect shops and supermarket at disposal but rather clubs and lounging’s in abundance. Very cute half naked ladies had started appearing at their business stations to hawk and trade their natural resources. As I was passing by I could hear some trying to whisper something to me, “vitu nzuri hapa, kam bei ni ya kuongea” (Good stuff here, just come the price is negotiable). More temptation, but the devil is a liar. I was not going to fall into this. I reached deep to my pocket and took my phone to call Zainabu but she didn’t pick her call. Ooh! She is a lawyer maybe she is somehow busy now not like “doctors”. I went straight to our bus station and fled directly  home.

On arriving at my door, I got a call.  It was a strange number calling. On picking,

Stranger: Hello Dennis, this is Zainabu, my other number. I got your missed call an hour ago.

Me: Thank you for calling back, yeah am Dennis. Hope you know why I had called?

Stranger (Zainabu): Waow!… you have a nice voice. I like it. Yeah I know why, concerning that issue of yours?

Me: Yeah, Thanks. I like yours too.

Zainabu: Thanks too, OK. When can we meet so that we can discuss about the issue?

Me: Any time you suggest is fine with me.

Zainabu: OK, let’s make it out tomorrow on Saturday. Since it’s a weekend.

Me: It’s okay with me. I do appreciate a lot. Where and what time?

Zainabu: I’ll call you tomorrow and confirm, never mind. Where do you stay?

Me: At Embakasi Tassia.

Zainabu: Waow, nice. Have a good night swee…

Me. OK. You too.

It was few minutes after 9AM on Saturday when I was still in bed. I saw a call from Zainabu. She said she was on her way to Tassia and I should give her direction to my house or I come and pick her up because she was almost there.

In my house??? How?? And by the way is it a house or a room? I asked myself.

I was living in a certain bedsitter room just near the Tassia stage. I had few and only essential stuffs in my room that could not be termed as property in case death was to claim me. Only the bed occupied the largest space since I was a lover and a die-hard fan of sleep and…yeah sleep only. The only thing I did best. Some few utensils which had now seen four days without being cleaned. Two plastic seats at the corner full of clean and dirty clothes together. You only smell to differentiate the clean once from the rest. Y’all bachelors can relate. So I had to direct her to the place as I tidy up a bit since I had not come out of bed that morning and here was a lawyer coming to my room.

OK, when you get to Tassia stage, take your right then you will see some blue painted apartment’s called Kilimanjaro complex, I stay at room 35, seventh floor.”(It’s true all counselors like her are welcome. WARNING!! No lift) I directed her.

I swept everything that looked like litter under my bed, spread the same bed well, put all dirty plates and cups in a bucket, opened the window for fresh air and then sat on the bed and took my Bible, dusted it and started going through some verses.

She called; “Hello Dennis’ where can I park?

Me: Park what?

Zainabu: My car.

Me: Ooh, am sorry, just pack outside there.

Zainabu: Okay.

I didn’t know why I got this tension after she called, I felt this was too much for me by any standards. A few minutes later, I heard a soft knock on my door, the tension intensified. It didn’t require rocket science to understand that that knock was hers.

I took a deep breath and went to open the door. Before I could get to the door the perfume she had on had already found its way to my room unwelcome. I took another deep breath before I could open the door but even if it didn’t help to calm down my tension, at least it gave my hand the strength to open the door.

Here she was, the long waited guest. It’s just right there that it dawned on me that Zainabu was a Muslim. Immediately I flapped the doors curtain, my eyes met with this superstitiously beautiful medium brown lady by the doorstep. (Just the way I like). She took almost forty seconds to take a full scan on me before she asked me whether she was at the right place. It was about time I realized that I had not even worn appropriately by the look of her face. I was still wearing my boxer short and my white vest on, only.

“Ooh, welcome Zainabu, you are actually at the right place. Don’t mind my manners am sorry. Welcome.” I broke the long silence.

It’s okay, thank you. How are you Dennoh?” She inquired.

“Am good. Thanks for coming. Am sorry let me get something to cover myself. I have just woken up and in fact I didn’t realize that I was half naked till you came. Have a seat please.”

I had also not removed the clothes from the plastics chairs.

She intervened. “There is no problem, in fact am fine, I will sit on the bed I don’t mind. You also look good in your short and vest no need to change”

I could agree on the other things she suggested but staying with her in the same room with a short was a no way to me. I was so uneasy to an extent I didn’t know what to tell her, how to tell her and when to tell her. This was torture. The way she composed herself on my bed sent some different information to my whole body. I asked her what I could offer her besides having nothing in the house. I really loved her humility when she said anything cool. If it was Akinyi my friend…? I immediately rushed down stairs trying to think of something cool to offer her besides water. The money I had in my pockets could only afford one liter of soda, a cold one. That was my definition of “something cool” according to my pockets and my education. The shop was right at the gate where I bought my soda. I could now see the packing outside our gate where a cool black land cruiser car was packed. Zainabu’s car. Life as it is, comes in phases, the good, bad, ugly and beautiful keeps recurring in different forms. I couldn’t understand which phase was this today.

Without delaying I rushed back to the room and there she was, now she was lying on my bed. She had already removed her shoes and put them under the bed. I wish she didn’t see the mess under there. Her jacket was on the bed. She was busy on her phone. I stood on the door for one whole second looking at her flawless body on my bed. It instantly sent mixed signals to my body. Memories came clear of the ladies that had slept on that bed and what had happened. The acrobats and numerous episodes of love making that had taken place there. Was it my fault? It is this natural feeling that surpasses the thinking capacity had transpired to what had always happened on that bed most of the Sundays.

I served her the soda and then sat still on the bed but made sure there was a good gap between us. She took a pillow, put it on her backside and asked me to tell her about my life. I looked directly in her eyes and saw the sadness in her eyes. Seems she was really on helping me. Silence dominated the room. I started narrating my all miserable life to her. I sighed with guilt in my face, it was shameful of me to tell this innocent creature all about my atrocities and my transgression in life. It was more of repenting. The sins I had done at broad daylight and worse still on the seventh day. I clearly put to her how have been longing for change, how I wanted to discover my purpose in life. How I want to have a dream, dream that will become reality. Dream of a bright future, future that will offer me happiness. I saw tears welling up in her eyes. She kept fluttering her eyelashes to keep the tears away. This was too much for me. I couldn’t hold it any more. Tears rolled down my cheeks. When she saw this, she took her handkerchief soaked it will tears and went silent. At the end of my recount, I felt much at peace with myself and I remember someone whispering in my ears that I was finally free.

After I had somehow healed, I began to think. Here is a Muslim, who was here to help me. And she has even come to my house, on my bed. I am of Christian faith and she was a Muslim, two different religion with diverse faith and believes. What was she going to tell me about loving God and knowing Jesus whom they even don’t believe? Will she tell me to go to church or to mosque? Was she for real coming to counsel me on issues to do with my salvation? Actually,I had a lot of other issues concerning my life. Zainabu could not say anything. Unlike Sasha who dominated the whole session talking about herself, Zainabu was ever silent. She didn’t say anything.

What’s wrong with these counselors? I asked myself.

The other one was windbag, now this one is dump. When I looked in her eyes. I felt the same mixed feelings I had when I saw her lying on my bed. They were tempting, charming, attractive and inviting. Was this love or pity? I actually felt something in my heart. How good it was to get my redemption and also my other rib at the same time?

Maybe I was falling in love with her. With my counselor. With Zainabu. I got the courage and held her hand. It was so tender, so smooth and beautiful. I told her to say something. She looked at me and said.

Am sorry Dennis for all you have been through. Every single person on this planet has a story. Therefore am not going to judge you because have truly known you. I wish I could help you but am sorry I can’t. But the truth is, I’m hiding what I’m feeling but I’m tired of holding this inside my heart. I think I love you

This was what I was longing for all that long. That love statement. Before I could say anything, she grabbed me and kissed me. As a matter of fact I was in Heaven. I took out my vest. It was so nice. On rolling allover the bed to take our feelings to another step further, she pulled me down. I thought we were exchanging positions. I was wrong. She held her hands on my chest and said.

“Am very sorry again. I didn’t mean to. This can’t happen at all. No one can accept this. Our parent’s cant, we are from different religion. Not unless we want to keep fighting our fathers and mothers, and our people and our gods. Am sorry.” She gave me a kiss and left.

I was so lost in words, I couldn’t say anything. Her last words cracked me up so wide. I have had ladies walk in and out of my life but in this case, Zainabu left a scar in my heart. How deep some scar can go!

Zainabu was gone. Unlike Sasha who had tried calling me thirteen times, this time, I was the one dialing her phone. I could not reach her. I cursed and wondered whether to regret this..

More stress..More depression..More heartbreak..

I then asked myself when will Mohammed and Jesus stop fighting? That is when I realized that some things are just never meant to be, no matter how much we wish they were. Sometimes we create our own heartbreak through expectations. All Zainabu could offer was a heartbreak..

Part three coming soon….

KITHYLOUISE

KithyLouise is a Nairobi Based Writer. IT software engineer by profession and Creative Writer by passion. She loves writing about her personal experiences, travel and telling short stories. She is a young talent promoter and a Youtuber. She has also written an online book series that she wishes to publish one day.

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