Our neighbor has a son called Kipla. He is a good friend of mine. I call him friend because we have had several exchanges of pleasantries when he turns out to be hanging with his botums around a corner I have to take while heading home.
His mother makes amazing mursik, and on Sunday, we asked her to send some over to us. As you would expect she asked Kipla to deliver it. (What are kids for anyway?) Here is part of the conversation that he and I had.
Kipla; Well, your hair looks so pretty. They cleaned it up so good for you. I mean, I can literally see your scalp. Can I smell it, please?
Me; No. Please, no. That would be so creepy.
K; Fine. You look good.
M; Thank you.
K; Can I take you to Glady’s for a drink?
M; For starters, I am not so crazy about chang’aa.
K; I would have taken you to town, but then you see, I don’t have money at the moment.
M; Well, I appreciate your honesty, Kipla.
K; It bodes well with me that honesty impresses you. Because I love you. Very much. I just can’t stop thinking about you.
M; It is called an infatuation, Kipla. And it will soon fade away.
K; What, you don’t think we can be together? When you’ll be forty-eight, I will be forty. And the difference won’t be screaming bloody murder by then.
M; I think you have been watching lots of movies. Listen, you need to first finish school then you can think about approaching girls. I’ll tell you what, once you are done with school, we can talk about you and I. Okay? You are now in form?
K; School? Pfff… I already stopped thinking about that. I am not so crazy about school and all that jazz. Besides, I have better things to do. (Whispering) Class seven, by the way.
M; Oh dear. Umm. Okay. That’s not bad at all. As a matter of fact, you have one more year to go in primary school and just four more in high school. You are as good as done.
K; I don’t see it that way, I’ll still go back to class seven next year. However, I’ll do what I need to do. For you.
M; Oh geez. If it makes you feel any better, we all will be repeating. Easy. No pressure. What things better than school were you talking about?
K; I love to draw. I began with cartoons and animations. Now I am all about perfecting portraits of actual people. I really don’t get why I should be learning about longitudes when all I want to become is an artist.
M; Look at it this way, you’ll be an artist with a great sense of direction. How cool, right?
K; You are a nice person. For that reason, I’ll do a portrait of you some time. (He smiles sheepishly)
M; Aaaw… that doesn’t build on what I was saying, but aaaw.
K; Okay, can I at least touch it?
K; Your hair.
M; No. Ah. But here’s a quick question. How did you imagine this would have gone down?
ALSO READ; NECK-TAR.
K; To tell you the truth, I imagined you would let me smell your hair. The rest would be history. In my head, we have done the thing severally.
M; First of all, eew. And secondly, the thing? (I say doing air quotes). Growing up, I always knew it to be ‘bad-manners’. ‘The thing’ is quite new. Have you been watching the news? Have you seen the thousands of girls who have become mothers at an age like yours? Well, they did ‘the thing’.
Dropping the bomb.
M; Yeah. And you know, it’s sad our folks always tiptoe around it. So much that at my age, I still can’t say sex in our mother tongue. Saying it almost feels like a taboo. It’s sad they don’t have these talks with us. They just turn a blind eye when in reality, kids engage in sex way before they are eighteen. Honestly Kipla, I think contraceptives should be made readily available and parents need to take sex education more seriously. Three thousand girls got pregnant. But how about the ones who acquired STIs, UTIs or even worse, AIDS? It’s just sad.
K; What are contraceptives?
M; Uumm… Things you should know about before you start doing the thing.
M; Eeeerrr… Kipla, thank your mother for me. Tell her no one’s mursik has ever tasted better than hers. How does she prepare it? With mala?
K; I’m sorry, it’s a family secret. In conclusion, there’s only one way you’ll be finding that out.
M; Haaa…. fair enough. Tell her I said hi.
K; Alright. Bye.
Apologies for last week, guys. The more I kept starring at the blinking cursor, the more I felt like punching my machine, because words eluded me. (I am one of those people who say machine instead of laptop. I also say feed instead of eat. Bite me.) Since I don’t like forcing issues, I decided to let the art come to me. I had a feeling you would understand. Nonetheless, I would like to appreciate all those old spots who reached out to ask for reasons why they hadn’t heard from Bortuber. Thank you, for keeping me accountable.
PC; Barutti Photography.