Sunday, August 1, 2021



They always say times changes things, but you have to change them yourself.

– Andy Warhol.


It has been a minute. In fact, my words are a little shy. They are knocking at my door like a lover that came back from a trip down the South coast with a concubine. Once you answer, you find guilt written all over their faces, but from the way their skin glows, there’s no denying that they had a good time.

Enough about words and concubines. I missed you guys, did you miss me? Of course you did. Thank you very much for swinging by. Good to see you, Anyango. Did you gain some weight?

Change. That’s what my debut piece is about. They say that it is like rest. I don’t fancy that adage much though. Never been a fan of change. Because it requires me to be more limber than an octopus. To fit in small spaces, go with the flow. First of all, I am claustrophobic. And secondly, I think it’s quite unfair for my Senge at her age to have to learn how to work the arrows on her kabambe to gain access to m-banking.

The need to change is oppressive on her eyes. And she is quite vulnerable to those messages that say nitumie kwa hii number, ile ingine iko na shida. Poor Senge.


The current world we live in has a mighty great affinity for change. Constantly evolving. Had someone told me that someday I would attend classes in my room, I would have laughed right in their faces. Look at me now, trying to study and at the same time having to deal momentarily with Jeremy struting into the room, a cockerel clucking with distress in one of his armpits.It didn’t seem like it was going to work at first. Classes were particularly hard to attend.

Forget the attendance sheets you would ask a friend to sign on your behalf while you stayed back in the hostels to catch up on Season 12 of The Big Bang Theory. There was no escaping this. You were either there attending the lesson, or not there at all. Not even asking your niece to stand in for you would work because some Lectures would insist on asking questions and calling on names to give answers.

Being a student right now is particularly hard. I know how a diamond feels thanks to the pressure. To make matters worse, there’s just too many distractions and less follow up. A combination that leads to a colossal ruin of youth, which is why I am glad the semester ended. Well, a little sad that they always have to end with examinations, but glad anyway that it was all finally over.

PS; It’s okay if you want to stone me to death since last you heard from me, I was promising you something sweltering for the next week. I just thought you would be used to disappointment from the way your government has been handling you.

My bad.


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The need to change is oppressive on her eyes. And she is quite vulnerable to those messages that say nitumie kwa hii number, ile ingine iko na shida.

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  1. We missed you.
    Wewe na gava


  2. We forgive you on account that semester was also taking some of us feri fast.


  3. Good one.
    I am also glad the semester is over though a little disappointed of not graduating.


  4. Finally you are back. Next time don’t be gone too long. Nice read… More articles please.


    • Glad that zoomester ended before the cold season began tho, hakuna mtu angeattend.


  5. Well here you are, back like you never left. Yes I did gain some weight. In the right places, gladly(chuckle). I hope your brevity to start again rubs on me.


  6. You guys have classes?


  7. An amazing piece


  8. I’m glad you are back


    • Being in a zoom-ester


  9. You’ll make me walk around with a stone in my pocket. Anyway, it’s an amazing piece Mercy.


  10. Nice creative work Mercy. Keep it up


  11. Glad you are back, watching season 12 of TBBT should be an alternative any day.


  12. I love this.


  13. The outro is completely golden!


  14. Yeah yeah …we are so used to disappointments that they don’t surprise us anymore….

    This one was short and sweet.❤❤


  15. This is spectacular !
    Sure, we missed hearing from you
    More of such piece of work


  16. Someone had a cock under their armpit and readers are not talking about it



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