Growing up

You realize life is not a solitary endeavor. It comes as a daunting realization that you cannot cruise through it alone. It is more than meaningless “hook ups”; quick gratification. “Hey, had a hard week, I’ve missed you.” Usually ending up with people playing like rabbits on testosterone. Each one of you selfish as the next. “I need to come”, “I need to utilize this session, god knows when the next miss you text is going to come”….the grinding and hard breathing ensues….there is nothing about appreciating each other…all of the action is goal oriented “ I need my gratification” teeth are held shut…it surely is a marathon of a sensual nature! Morning comes by, “Wanna go again?” Then sweet nothings are exchanged. There’s no time for making you breakfast, this again is as is, just but a hook up. Niceties are overrated….”Hey you received the pleasantry in the bedroom and I’m surely asleep, there’s food but I’m out of gas if you would like to fix yourself something to eat!”
Brave the walk of shame and be sure to wear a smug! You leave each other satisfied. “The pent up frustration has been released!” Both of you are very content, but wait….life’s frustrations are recurrent. What happens to this emptiness? Emotional fix?

He took something that was mine to give and not his to take

I looked at him dead in the eyes. I was scared out of my mind. There was no one else around. It was quiet and dark yet it was the afternoon. The doors were shut closed. He was towering over me. With a smug that broke into a smile and some hint of cockiness. He was in control, he called the shots. I was helpless...everything depended on him. The fear was riveting....tears trickled down my cheeks when he told me to lie on the bed.

My heart was racing, I was in total fear.....my mind ran and tried to understand what he wanted from me. Then it hit me square in the face. He wants what people do on tv. He wants tabia mbaya?!! Oh my god, I cannot do tabia mbaya. We've been warned by our parents that it was shameful and dirty. Only big people do tabia mbaya. I cannot go against authority.

Then I looked at him as earnestly and sincerely as I could muster. By then he had turned his back to me...he was looking for something.....I continued crying and asked him to let me go. I put icing on my request by telling him that I would not tell a soul. At that moment getting from doing tabia mbaya triumphed over the people he had told me were coming for me. The people who wanted to beat me up. He flashed a pen knife at me and told me that he would find me and cut me if I dared told on him.

He opened the doors and I fled. I ran, not looking back. Scared to pieces. I had a secret. I could not tell. Catch 22 in the making. Talk about the shameful, dirty tabia mbaya or be cut. He was real and ready to cut and I was eager to forget and please the society. Did I really escape or did he just take something from me that I cannot get back. Was it his to take or mine to give?