MEMORIES SHORED UP AT SHORE

Greetings!

I write to you from the magnificent shores of life. I’m watching MV 2020 sail away. I wish the cannons up the beach were operable so that I won’t be helpless. You know, just in case this ass of a year decides to do a remix.

Staring at the blank pages of 2021, I can’t help but wonder. What does it hold? Will its memories be beautiful? Shall dreams come true? In these moments, Doris Doyle’ Que serà serà steps in. Whatever will be will be, the future’s not ours to see.

The blank pages trigger past memories. We hold a little too tightly to the fond memories that sail through. And cringe at the not so good ones that for some reason load faster and in 4K. Like those damn Youtube ads.

One of the fond memories is the tale of a certain letter writer. Apparently, he penned letters to a car,a radio,a kettle and a certain Tumaini. Uprooted from his tiny residence in the infancy of the pandemic, he found himself away from his companions. Dive in:

DEAR CAR,

Are you cold? Are you hot? I wonder how the view by the windows is. Did the tree blossom and release a glory of red flowers?

I’m sorry I left you. For sure dust now coats your sky blue paint. I miss shifting my attention between your dazzle in the moonlight and the beauty of the sky.

Car, I long for the drives along ‘Silicon valley’. On the more adventurous days we’d drive you in turns to see who went the farthest before you veered to the left bank.

Hey, maybe we’ll get to gaze at the stars soon. I sure hope so.

DEAR KETTLE

I reckon this is the longest you’ve gone without being turned on. You can’t remember the last time you blew up an unsuspecting extension code that couldn’t handle your heat. 

Saying I’d be a filthy irritable buffoon without you is an understatement. An ode to you for facilitating warm beverages and frequent baths.

DEAR RADIO,

This is a radio message to my radio!

I found someone to hold fort for you. She’s a one channel, two band Sony damsel. The coolest thing about her is that she’s got a sturdy string. With this,I can hang her around my shoulder and go about.

You should see me seated with her in the shadehold a little.An old school radio belting our old school tunes on classic 105. All the while, I try to get my audio requests through to Brenda Obath’s Anything Goes hour. 

I hope the cockroaches aren’t being too much of a bother. For you, I’ll commit the most gruesome murders when I get back.

ALSO READ 2020: LESSONS AND TAKEAWAYS

DEAR TUMAINI,

Everyday that  I am way from you is another day you’re certainly devoured by another. It’s been 10 not so good months. 

Here’s a verse for you;

Come dust, come mud, 

I made maddening dashes,

To your glorious greyness,

Eyes for you only,

Taste buds yours truly.

If you’ve never had a taste of fresh deep-fried finely cut pig liver at Kabete shopping centre, the ninth wonder of the world awaits you.

Dear reader, may the January blues fade and give way to memoir-worthy memories of 2021.

Ciao until the next story.

PS: Silicon Valley Lane exists within the Lower Kabete Campus.