Chronicles of Fly

Honesty is one of those things that can actually end up doing more harm than good. You end up hurting the person more by being honest with them, the truth really does hurt. Sometimes you cause less pain by lying and being dishonest than by coming forward and telling the truth. More times than I can remember I always chose to tell the truth and ended up hurting people when it was easier and less traumatic to just lie. Honesty can also confuse people; it can leave them people with more unknown variables than a quadratic equation. Sometimes being truthful just creates more disorder than there was originally. If I stick by my honesty policy then the cat is out of the bag, you will know that I actually don’t want to be your friend. I don’t want to end up back there again, but you are not exactly in a position to be more than what we currently are. Am I hoping that in your current state of confusion you make some rash decisions that open the door; I am ashamed to admit that I do. I...

I have lot of physical scars; they are reminders of an epic childhood. Souvenirs from days spent running into barbecue stands, falling of guava trees and running around empty swimming pools. They are battle marks from accidentally missing your kick in a game of street soccer and making contact with the ground so hard that it eats away at your flesh, leaving your elbow, knee or shin bleeding and exposed. Some would cry because of the impact, some knew that a lecture at home was imminent and some knew to hold it in until water and antiseptic made love to the wound. Most of my scars have faded so well that you would never believe that they resulted in a love hate romance with bandages and antiseptic. I carry my physical scars with pride, they give me character.  If only emotional and psychological scars healed as well as the physical scars do. You know how your skin forms a scab to protect a wound from the elements and to allow new skin cells to replace the old ones. Some emo...

The great modern philosopher Tupac Amaru Shakur left a legacy that lives on long after his departure, Ironic that he only lived 25 years but it seems like he was never gone. Some people still think that he will return from the dead like the Italian Machiavelli. The following is a chorus from an Eminem song in which a verse from Tupac is featured, Christina Aguilera sings the chorus, now isn’t that Ironic? “Everyone thinks I have it all, but it’s so empty living behind these castle walls. These castle walls If I should tumble; if I should fall, would anyone hear me screaming behind these castle walls? There’s no one here at all, behind these castle walls.” Out of all the Eminem songs, this is the one that resonates with me the most. That’s saying a lot because I’ve been listening to Eminem since I was 14. But this song describes a place where I was in May of the year of our lord 2013, a place that I never want to go back to. Relax; it’s not a physical geographic location,...

August 2013 I sit in the car, nervous and apprehensive. But very aware that I have to get out and do this. But that does not it make easier, no number of deep breaths is going to get me to move. My palms are sweaty, my skin starts going clammy like a nervous white guy. A part of me wants to reach for the ignition, turn the key and never look back. But the logical and calm part of me convinces the rest of me that if I ever hope to heal and live a normal life, then I need to get out of the fucking car and go pay my little brother a visit.  Still not making any progress, I reach for my earphones and my MP3 player. The sweat covering my fingers makes it hard to turn the volume up; Ed Sheeran’s suicide music would really take the cake of Irony at this moment. I pop a bar of chocolate into my mouth, as it melts and I become lost in its goodness (I am fast turning into a chocoholic), I open the door. Swift as a soldier, the car is locked and I am past the entrance before any ...

Dear God  A few weeks ago, I went home. I just showed up unexpectedly, the mothers were excited. Glad to have another one of their sons home, home in one piece and not in a box. That Saturday morning was a blessing, I am like a Mbwiti (city kid); My visits home are so sparsely distributed that you could liken them to lunar eclipses. That morning I realized that my mom is the love of my life, I need her. There are some gaps she still needs to fill in, some chapters of my father life that she still hasn’t finished. Heck! I haven’t even given her a grandchild yet, sure she has plenty of them from the others but I guess mine would make everything complete.  No disrespect, but you need to hold your horses. Chill your guava for a couple of years, we are not done yet. We still have unfinished business, but who am I to ask this of you? Well, I am just one of your sons who have unwavering faith in you no matter what happens Sincerely Fly

Seated on the jagged surface of a carbonate ridge that rises up above the rocky and dry never ending red semi hills of Kaokoland, I am deep in thought. The sharp surface of the rocks digs into my trousers, it bruises my palms almost cutting into them as I use my hands to push myself up and stand to take in the splendour of this amazing landscape. I’ve spent the better part of my twenties ogling over these landscapes while life passes me by; the ridge overlooks the neck of a sprawling ephemeral river fed by meandering streams. The trail of green trees in a semi desert gives away the fact that this river although dry must have water underneath, from which the deep roots of these trees quench their thirst.     The carbonate ridge over looking the dry river with green trees I start pondering; I ask myself how I got here and how I got here so quickly. I hate my job, despised it the day I started, I am too young for this shit. This happens to bald 40 year old men, not m...