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The Ambulance


Melting Ice Towers

I had just woke up. The time was 05.30hrs. My ever-Busy wife was still sleeping. At the corner of the spacious bedroom, I sat on a low-height jewel locker with my iPhone on my right hand as I watched her. Her face soo innocent and beautiful as her eyes closed firmly. The blankets on top of her rising up and down in response to her unfailing healthy lungs. I recapitulated in my short term memory of the episodic matrimonial day when I looked her straight in the eyes and kissed her full eager lips in front of a huge congregation. It was an awesome thought. The first few months haven’t been hard as people say about marriage.

So today was to be a huge day for us since a certain Cabinet Secretary was to hold a Welcome-Home ceremony to his Abroad kid who would be arriving in the country in a few hours. My wife and I were qualified photographers who were well experienced and had degrees in photography too. We would be called in almost all the big events due to the sensational images and our daring professional prowess to impress on such events. Our work was a sure gate pass.

I looked out of the large bedroom window and gazed at the city roads. The city looked beautiful. There was no traffic jam at the time. Some mega supermarkets and stores were still operating. Thanks to big business investors who understand the art of making money and satisfying their clients.

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she was left alone at 9 yrs in this horrid world

she was left alone at 9 yrs in this horrid world

She had already lost hope in life when her parents succumbed to HIV when she was 9 years old.  Generally, they were poor and lived that life that most people in the world can never even imagine. The shimmer of success that had remained in her shredded into thin air.  She did not know the next step to take.  For the first 2 weeks after the demise of her last guardian, Joy Atieno locked herself inside the house crying day and night. She did some cooking for survival using the last grains that had remained. She knew that at some point she would have to go outside and beg for food and money. She also knew some of her girls who had ventured into the prostitution business commonly known as the ‘late-night-ladies’. She did not want to be in such a business herself. Joy respected herself and her wellbeing.

The 3rd week had commenced and she did not have any food at her disposal. She had to get outside the house and look for something to feed herself. She was a minor but she had a great vision on survival skills. She started marauding the slum looking for girls like her who had been derelict like her. At every corner she took, scary, imminent eyes were scrolling her from head to feet. All kind of men aged from teenage to married made sure they got a glimpse of her. She walked with that strong confident gait. She did not seem abashed by anything. Some men even went to the extent of sniffing her clothes as she passed through the old thatched ramshackle houses that were closely erected. As she was about to approach the main opening to the local town, a certain teenage boy who seemed gloomy spanked her behind in such a strong blow that she almost fell on the dirty looking flowing sewerage. She abruptly gazed behind her with her face grinned and her teeth clenched. She wanted to retaliate. However, looking at the rabble of ‘hungry’, ‘starved’ and ‘feminine drenched’ men who had formed a small congregation with the boy, she decided to continue walking and assumed the ordeal.

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Normal thoughts but unique view




Yote ni Vanity. Mungu Mbele. Hio inatosha.



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