Here’s something I wrote when I was still a young kid. In the coming days I intend to do a recollection series for some of the pieces I have done in the past that are not on this platform. This is the first of a few to come.


Written in 2015;


I was super excited that after all the toiling I had finally got to buy myself a brand new bike. It was a, beautiful green shinery motorbike straight from the showroom. A week of practice and I was ready to hit the road and find money like all other men did. I found a corner and adjacent to the highway, this was my spot to wait for customers and ride them up to the estate. Everything went on well for about a month, business was good I'd take home at least five hundred on a bad day and a thousand bob on a nice day. The women up the estate liked my bike but I was always confused whether it was the bike or me they liked, anyway money was all that brought me here and I was getting it so I cared less about the women.

      I was at my corner when this hot girl came and_

 "Tunaenda wapi mrembo?” I asked licking my lips.

"Along the highway, there's a center just after Eastwood School am going there," she answered with her nose.

"You’ll only pay two hundred" I told her in my best English. It’s ok no prob'

   She was light skinned, her natural hair hang slightly below her shoulders, and it was so black it seemed fake. Her face was smooth not a single scratch of imperfections, it made her look young. Her eyes rested perfectly on her face, the black eye shadow only complimented her sexy and somehow lazy eyes, and so did her cute little nose. The lips were covered in a red lip gloss, kissable is the only word I'd use on them. She had features on her body which were only made better by the small Grey dress worn by her revealing large chunks of her thighs.


       It was the first time I was riding alongside a drop-dead beauty on. I kicked the bike and the engine was running as she held my shoulders and climbed up, I felt goosebumps all over my body as she held my shirt, I had no helmet or those heavy jackets that weigh 10 kilos just a shirt. I adjusted the side mirrors so that I'd steal a glance at this beautiful soul seated behind me on this ride of a lifetime. I was sitting in  a position that aroused me, her long legs were spread on my both sides so that I'd see her thighs just by slightly looking below actually I'd look at them with the edges of my eyes while still ridding the bike. It was at this point I wished I had other eyes on my lower back where her legs part and bit my sides like scissors.


    We hit the road and after every second I'd look through the side mirror and the #teammafisi in me would be thrilled. The winds came fast as we were speeding already, she didn't seem to mind it. I must have made a dangerous turn, the only thing I heard was the ear blowing horns from a trailer behind us and things got out of control. I could not use the side mirror because it was set on her, the trailer was racing behind us, and we were racing too. Horns after horns and I forgot her she now held tightly on my belly. I decided to look behind just in case there were chances of getting out of here alive but that was the mistake of a lifetime...


      I looked at the trailer and it was dangerously close to us about two feet from running over us and still nearing, I must have overlooked because my eyes met another dangerously close truck, I opened my eyes wider now, the truck was coming fast, too fast, very fast. And then_ *blackout*
   Woke up on a hospital bed, every bone on my body that would break was broken and every muscle that would dislocate was dislocated. I had bandages all over my body from head to toe, She had died, I heard a lump form in my throat and my eyes pained as a mixture of blood and tears came out when my brother told me she had died, I had killed her, and I too wasn't going far no part of my body was moving at least not without a scream. My lips would not move, I could feel an emptiness of teeth in my mouth, I tried to say my last prayer but words would not form they too were scattered all over my body.  I wish she went to heaven in all her goodness, in all her beauty God would want it that way but she was worn out, what happened to her smooth face? If only she spoke up and told me not to speed, what if I had a helmet and the heavy jackets? I would have been professional by sticking the side mirrors to the road rather than on her, I would still be around with my bike.

      PLEASE NOTE: this is purely fictional and it is in no way related to any experiences of mine or that of people close to me. Further note that I would not like this to happen to any of you reading this article and you are therefore required to speak up for your safety, I don't own a bike, it's only that I own a pen which makes me own the world,

*Before you judge me, this was written when team mafisi was a thing. There was no wamlambez back them only team mafisi.

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