A Show, A Getaway And Two Deaths

December 25, 2018

In July, hands entwined with those of other females for the Brazen Edition of Too Early for Birds, I learnt to trust more in myself, mended cracks that existed within and stood more wholly. And though the journey inwards brought me to my elbows and knees with physical and mental exertion, I knew that when I stood, it would be as a stronger person.


I want to be touched by the hands of women.

I want to be touched more by the hands of women.

I want to be touched by the hands of more women.


July ended with this mantra and I made a pact with myself to make a conscious effort to support and create art with other females more deliberately, every chance I get.



August brought with it great heartache, and then birthed an anger that scorched two important relationships; one family tie and a friendship. I call them Former Beloveds.

I was broke that first week of August even though it was right after pay day. Paying off loans bit off a large chunk of my money but regardless, I knew I had to go to Distant Relatives. It seemed like the perfect getaway to recuperate since the Brazen Edition, like all Too Early For Birds shows, took so much out of me. I hadn’t counted on the family tie taking a hit, which meant the oasis took on a whole new urgency despite my financial status. I simply could not stand another moment in Nairobi.

And so, hurt and secretly bleeding from the torn family tie, I carried myself to this place where I could peacefully lick my wounds with my own wet gentle tongue, as much as I needed to. In three days, though, I was done. Pride had more to do with it than actual healing or letting go. I had burned an even more important bridge when I was younger and I had survived; yet this one was crippling me?! I was supposed to be on holiday for heaven’s sake, but instead I was mourning a relationship that dared hurt me?!


I couldn’t allow myself to weep or hurt a day longer. I simply refused to give her that much importance.


When my stay at Distant Relatives was over, I was well rested, rejuvenated, and reminded of the inner strength Brazen had stamped inside me.  I am a whole person and I intend to remain so. I will burn everything and everyone that pushes me close to the edge even by a point of their finger.

The second relationship died a quicker death, three weeks into August, on a warm rainy Mombasa morning with good music ringing in my mind. It made me think very hard about future friendships with males and whether it might be a good idea to keep them to a minimal.

I realized when it all calmed down, that I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve, and though recently hurt, I  had no inclination to hide it or put up walls. I remain vulnerable because I realized too, that no one can ever truly fatally wound me. I burn bridges, and mend myself, and love fully each and every time. And always, I remain whole.


Featured Image Source: @tooearlyforbirds


Made of Sand
Not Dura, but Alaminadura

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