Swahilific : Diary of Campus girl ~ pt 62

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The afternoon heat was almost unbearable. Zuhura had no class and Mimih had just finished folding her laundered clothes. Instead of taking a nap, Zuhura decided to fulfill a promise she had made to Mimih that she was to do her hair.

And Mimih loved it when Zuhura did it.

“What happened to your catch, Swaleh?” Mimih asked.

“He’s up and about,” Zuhura said, setting a cushion between her feet for Mimih to sit on as she braided her hair. “He should be in Mombasa now I guess.”

“You guess? Kwani you guys haven’t spoken of late?”

“We have, but it’s not like am supposed to keep calling and texting him all the time,”

“He’s your man honey, you must keep tabs on him before some Bronze Swahili cougar grabs him!”

“Am sure there are lots of other Swaleh’s out there,”

“Oh, look who’s talking? And the way your heart skips sijui how many beats when he calls you!”

“Leave me alone now,” Zuhura said, tagging a little harder on Mimih’s hair.

“Ouch, what was that for?”

“To keep you quiet!” She said, “How’s your Georgie Bunny?”

It had been several days since Mimih had met with George and he had called every night since then. Susan was still away on ‘business’ and George took full advantage of the freedom to patch things up with Mimih, well, at least that was what he figured he was doing.

But Mimih thought otherwise.

She knew men, most of them, and she loathed as much as she adored. George was, like any man in his position would do, running to what he considered a rock of solace, a semblance of sentimanrtal familiarity that can always be counted on when shit hits the fan.

And shit was really hitting the fan at his place. Any man who gets played would beat a hasty retreat to his immediate ex mist especially if he was the one who left her for no good reason. Men are not engineered to be played and whenever that happened they run back to the only person who would most likely bring out the masculinity in them.

“Georgie Bunny yuko yuko tu, he thinks things are cool between us,” she said.

“Are they?” Zuhura asked, twisting Mimih’s head to snake a braid behind her ear.

“The sex is cool,”

“So what now?”

“We just wait and see, Peaches, we just wait and see.”

Momentary silence draped the room as Mimih eloped with her thoughts while Zuhura concentrated on the meticulous task of braiding Mimih’s hair as thin as she could at the front and leaving it to flow freely down her neck.

Mimih was certain that if at all that bitch Susan would come back and fall on her knees confessing her infidelity while begging George to forgive her, he would. Any man would because much as the male species were created to exude strength and authority, they had a weakness for women who had a smooth, sweet tongue and knew what they wanted in bed.

Susan was one such kind of a woman. Mimih knew this all too well and George had no idea who he was doing a Tango with. Susan was the kind to get what she set her mind on and she had the capability to walk out on George or any other man for that matter the moment she realized that he had outlived his usefulness.

What really bothered Mimih about this George-Susan fiasco was the reason behind her tricking him into engagement. Well, George was a charming guy who knew how to satisfy a woman in bed and for some reason Mimih felt there was something more to it than met the eye.

And it wasn’t just for the sake of getting back at Mimih because of a silly teenage feud. It wasn’t.

“What will you do about Susan?” Zuhura asked.

“Susan’s a crafty bitch,” she said, twisting the hem of her Dera. “I have a huge tolerance for bullshit when I can or nee to, but for some reason Susan is the only girl who really gets into my nerves.”

“Why not just ignore her?”

“Trust me, Peaches, the only other thing that she craves as much as sex is attention,” she said. “She’s the kind of person who will still keep pestering you even when you ignore her. Actually it gets worse when you ignore her. I think it’s some kind of a Psychological disorder or something!”

“One day the two of you will get old and tired of this,” Zuhura said. “Who knows, you just might become besties in old age!”

“How I wish that day would come,”

“Why not just leave her and George to sort out their won stuff? At times it’s just good to keep away from situations and people who get into your nerves.”

“I had left them for a while until he reached out to me,” Mimh said. “And I do have a soft spot for that bastard George. He’s a silly bastard you know, and I love and hate him with the same intensity. Is that even normal?

“I wouldn’t know, but coming from you I think it is!”

“Susan is up to something, my gut tells me so,” Mimih sighed. “I will find out, and when I do, that bitch will be in for a terrible round!”

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Abu Amirah

Abu-Amirah is a Mombasa-based writer whose story “The swahilification of Mutembei” was shortlisted for the Writivism 2016 short story prize. He is currently working on getting his first short-story anthology published.

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