As the Northampton winter hits my face, my skin tightens, and I embrace the cold. The air fresher than the Cairo air makes me smile. I enjoy it, because I know too well how life passes by so quickly and in one instant I am in one place living life and embracing all the joys that can be. In another I am in a place where I do not know myself, yet luckily for me I am often able to get to know people and so there is always someone who seems to know me when am not sure who I am anymore.
Today like many other times in my life I am having flashbacks, not just of images but of scents of egg omelet and passion fruit/ orange juice that my mother packed for my school breaks when I was six years old. I had a green container with a large basement that she poured the juice in, while the top smaller compartment was for the egg omelet sandwich. I often looked forward to break times at Shimoni Primary School. The bell went off at about 10:30-11am and we would all run out and find places to sit on the verandah right by the classroom. I had four siblings in classes above me but I never remember seeing them during school, I remember though that we went to school together every morning.
We lived three minutes from the school, on Hannington road (probably named after the Briton voyager- James Hannington the Bishop of Equatorial Eastern Africa). I cannot think of a major reason why we were late almost every morning, but I remember we all had to do housework every day before we left home. Because we lived in a massive Government house due to my father’s work, My mother was not able to do all the work by herself and even though we often had house helpers (some call them maid servants) she did not want us to get used to having people clean up after us. What she did instead was distribute house chores among the eight of us and have us clean specific parts of the house every morning before we left for school. Homework was not to be done in the morning as my father saw to it that all homework was done right after school before dinner when he would have us sit down round a 12 chaired dining table (which we inherited from my dad’s brother Jacob Okia upon his death).
Back to school (Oh I miss Bata); we had to wait for everyone to finish their chores so that we could walk to school together, sometimes run to school together. This was most annoying for me, for as long as I can remember I have often repelled the idea of being late for anything. I do not care if it was for pleasure or business I just have to be on time (I may start to elaborate later how I may have Asperger’s syndrome- maybe a slight dose of it).
Anyway, once I decided that I would not be late with everyone else, and so I set the alarm for 6 am, I woke up, cleaned all the bathrooms and toilets in the house, which was my daily duty, ironed my uniform, had breakfast everyone was still asleep at this point and I decided to start walking to school at 7am. We often had to be there at 7:30am, On my walk to school I realized that there were no children behind me or ahead of me, Crested Towers building which was a busy zone was pretty dead, just as I was about to cross the road to get into the school compound pleased with myself for keeping time, It hit me that it was a Saturday and we did not have to be at school! I cannot even start to express how I felt, I felt like a selfish git. For one I had decided that I was not going to go to school with the rest because I blamed them for making me late and secondly I had been so taken up with planning this move that I had forgotten we had no school. As I reflect on this today, I realize how much I need to communicate my feelings, I have often dismissed how I feel about situations and others that it makes me act like a selfish fool.
I can still be selfish and have been foolish many a time. I still get edgy about being late, I am still that girl that does chores and likes to clean up after myself. I love my family and always will. They have been there for me every single time in life and even though we may not go to school together or go to every country together, anymore, we are together on Gmail, Facebook and Skype. So I found you, and in finding you I found me. You made it okay for me to be me. In you I have learnt how the phrase, “it’s okay to be you’ means just that, no politeness and no flatter- just being.
There are so many things in life I know, but there are also so many things in life that I do not know. Yet today, I know that I do not have a crush on you, it’s not lust, it’s not even love- no love is too downplayed. What I know of me and you is more than love. I do not want to call you a soul mate- this is way too overrated and thrown around too much. What I have for you is beyond me. ‘ As human species we are essentially looking for a roof over our heads, a mate in life, ways to take care of ourselves and our offspring – and this is just about what life is’- Timothy Allen.
If this is all about it, I want to do all this with you. I want to look after you and have you look after me, I want to find a roof to stay under with you and stay there with you too. I want to have offspring with you and look after them with you. With you I want to be vulnerable, every time we are together we communicate with words and no words, with our eyes and our times. Someone said it is fate, I think its destiny. This ultimate agency predetermining the course of our lives. I do not promise to give you everything you want; I cannot promise you complete happiness or wealth. I can only promise you that I will be me. And I hope that you can be you.
