"My Kari, I've been wanting to write you a letter for quite a while, but it's taken me longer than expected/than it normally does for me to sort out exactly what I wanted to say to you..."
South Africa has yet to grieve because it was told to forgive. South Africa has yet to breathe.
He is all torso and skinny legs interrupted by a gentle knob that rises out of where his knees should be. He flexes the knob against the shifting ground.
Have you ever sat waiting for the rain? Your eyes perched on the window, assessing each darkening cloud, awaiting the heaviness in the air.
My feet leading me to that place where earth and water collide and the moon comes out to watch over them; stilling the ocean so the earth can kiss it just so.
No. A girl like her likes flowers like her; broody, awkward, strange.
And though he had never asked and she had never answered, they established a reflexive routine in the undertaking of whatever truths the celestial beings had placed between them.
Lose yourself with me and “let her be born…”
"Being woman is double consciousness like Du Bois could never have imagined. For after woman, you are still many other things, but being woman remains the most inescapable of those."
Someone once said to me, “the Atlantic Ocean is temperamental,” but not so the Indian Ocean.
You ask how I am and how Nairobi is. As if to inquire what it is doing at any given moment. Or perhaps what its dreams and aspirations are; and most importantly who is sleeping in its bed.
Write till your mind empties. Until you are moved, angered, stupefied, mystified. Until there is nothing to do but read it all and discover yourself and everyone else around you in your words. Then, write again.
It is August 2011 and you are in love with someone who loves you not for who you are but for who they think you could be.
The birds begin their routine at 6:30am. At 7:30 am, the thudding starts. It is consistent, steady, irregular, the sound of my arrhythmic beating heart.
There are many of us who have learned to forget to remember. To speak with mouths closed, burying the resurrections of the past.
When the water comes to find you, you must not be afraid. It will seek you and appear to engulf you as it carves continental shapes into your edges. But the water is the only thing that binds us all—connecting you to me and bridging the distance between two continents.