Akinsa, the Village Sun-II

They walked back. Slowly to the unbudding Namugooye. Not many people left the village and those that came back didn’t live long. Ahead walked the girl that taunted his dreams. She was so gentle in her walk yet her pair of buttocks seemed like two balloons filled with water. She was the epitome of beauty. Kizito longed for Akinsa who seemed not to mind a bit of his pursuit for her. He had done all that his male friends had done to the women that now carried their visible fruits of copulation and still all Akinsa did, was jeer like she had a railroad and a train squealed in there.  Akinsa was very verbal about how unappealing he looked, she often said no woman would desire a man whose chest stretched in the part where most men had hunter’s bodies. In her presence, he flagged a smile but late in the night, as he lay on his matted bed, he wept. Cursed at why the creator would have him look the way he did.
Do you care? He often asked.
If you do, why then don’t you make me as appealing to Akinsa’s taste?
All the company he got, were hungry rats running about in search for anything they can munch on.. But before he slept, staring at a picture Aunty Tayeeri had given him was his prayer. If anything, the mother believed in them spending forever together than Akinsa ever held onto hope.


Akinsa walked, each step on the look out for thorns but every thought wondering at why today, Kizito was quiet. It was odd. He spoke more often of his dreams. Even when she couldn’t imagine them together, she appreciated that whilst many men looked at her with a desire entailing lust, Kizito spared a minute to tolerate her somewhat introverted temperament. Sometimes she felt the need to open up to him but what would he do? He barely knew how to push his fist into the air. Often on this walk back to the village, he said;
“Akinsa my wife, if you married me” and a whole lot of dull promises followed.
And even if Akinsa wanted to find out why, she was not about to start a conversation. So she looked straight towards Namugooye that had started peering at a distance!!
Duty was as usual every other time she responded to her mother’s call. Tonight was fish and crashed millet and tomorrow would hold another story in itself-more less the same but not before night scorers heavily dwelled on her.


Night lingered and soon her nightmare would come haunting her. Her mother would enter her small stuffed room, she had learnt to stay awake as she anticipated this moment. It was one that would wear her out but then her mother had initiated her in the vice long before telling her refusal would disgrace her!!
Tonight, it was the stocky man that smelt heavily of the local brew. He had come several times before. He liked to play with her like she was a chessboard. And tonight, she was sure he would do alot of pinching and pulling and lots many more things and she would be the dummy that stays still as her mother came to peep between intervals to check if everything was going as agreed.


Akinsa of the night wasn’t Akinsa of the day!! She readied herself and knew the night had taken to the same old iniquity!!


I decided to write this series story to conjure society. And this is it!! I shall await feedback from you on what you think about it or thoughts on where you think it will end up!! Read Part 1 here–> Akinsa, the Village Sun

Akinsa, the Village Sun

“In a world full of men and i still can not find my own” thought Akinsa.

She comes by this same river everyday at noon hoping a suitor would find her there, waiting for him to find her. Her maternal auntie, Lovinsi had advised that it is good omen if a man finds you at the well and secondly, if he does, he would immediately woo you. She sat and sang to herself. She could swear the weaver-birds were chirping along in tune.
“When will you come find me
I have waited for you long enough
But still at the place you are supposed to find me, you disappointingly never come
I am becoming too ripe for your liking but still you refuse to come
When will you come find me?”
Photo Credit: Google
Seventeen was soon catching up with her. Most of her friends had been married at sixteen and now their stomachs stuck out like jack-fruits. Some spent their days spitting like Jajja Asnansi. She had been the village sputter, printing mother earth with her blood-stained spittle. She had passed away ten days after the dak-tar at the new medico clinic had put something that look like a snake under her frail neck, given her small powdery stones to take when the sun was highest and when the moon had pronounced itself in the sky. After her death, people stopped flocking the dak-tar’s place to see what he was upto lest he take their lives too without their notice. The young flamboyant fellow who had come to the village with a bounce in his walk now looked like a rag. No one went to the medico clinic and so no shillings for him.
“Akinsa?…. Akinsa?”…… her name carried on along the little wind that had braved the hot afternoon sun.
“Akinsa my wife, Where are you?”
Aaah, it was the unmistakable pighead Kizito. Who else would it be anyway? She thought as she lazily adjusted to sit up from her lying position. Her man would come looking for her saddled up onto a horse like that man in that show, Latormenta. He would be muscled and would possess an aggressive look for her love. And Kizito!.. Hmm Msteew, she jeered at the thought. It would never be Kizito.
Kizito was suffering from the adult aftermath of having had kwashiakor in childhood. His belly stuck out and his arms were branch small. Once at 12, the wind had blown him to the ground and Akinsa wondered whether he was safe from that absurd joke because since 12, he had only added 2 kilograms. Kizito was in-proportional that even his voice was bigger than his frame.
Kizito liked to act like the Kabaka’s guards. Hovering around her like some starving housefly. Her mother and his had grown up playing kakebe together. The term to best describe them was “best friends”, gossiping about everything and anything together and planning what food their families would be eating. When Akinsa’s mother, Tayeeri had found out her uncrying child was a girl, she immediately swore her daughter ( Akinsa) would marry her bestfriend, Kudde’s son, Kizito. Then is when she started stipulating over Kizito, “Akinsa’s Mwami”. Unlike Kizito, Akinsa had outgrown the analogy.
Kizito approached her sprinting, panting like a dog. His hardly muscled chest heaving like he had outran a wolf.
“Akinsa My wife, mama is looking everywhere for you. She says if she lays hands on you, your cries will wake your father’s resting body”.
Akinsa rolled her eyes. This threat she had heard since she had failed to understand the alphabetic chart but still even when she was ripe for marriage, her mother sent Kizito to look for her with the same indictment. She rose to her feet not because she feared the threat would be effected but because she needed her father’s soul to rest peacefully. That un-celebrated hero had done much too much for the village like the land on which Lake Victoria lay. She started to walk back to Namugooye, her village, their village, their unbudding village. She walked faster for Kizito to catch up and when he did, she slowed her pace. She liked this. She liked to see him go through an unfruitful toil.
Akinsa was careful as she walked lest her feet be affected by the thorns of this shrubby pathway back home. Kizito was used to it perhaps that was why he paid no attention at all where he stepped. His feet were cracked like a ground in need of the relieving touch of rainfall.
As they made their way back in silence,Akinsa wondered how Kizito hoped to marry her!! How? The boy didn’t even have a hoe to his name. There was nothing mutual about their characters. They were so different like night and day!
Aunty Lovinsi had once said, “You know how much your mother loves you by the man she wishes for you in marriage”. How was it that her mother had and still match-made her with Kizito?! How?

This story came to mind as I patiently endured my taxi ride back home.. I don’t know yet how it shall end. I need to take that same taxi and sit by the same window 😀 

#UgBlogWeek~ I painted my Valentine Red

Continuing this chain after Shanita that Lynn started~~ Part 3


Dear Valentine,

How i Love you

Don’t you make my nuerones tingle

A single sight of you has a way it disorganizes my organisis

You have a way you fold your index finger onto mine

And just that… I swear just that could have me conquer the world.

I heard you sing this morning as you made that omelet with broccoli soup

Then is when i made up my mind;

I needed to share my idea with you!

My sunset lover,

I can almost see the excitement on your face

You are the way you are because you imagine i am about to clutch my stomach and dash for the washroom

This idea is not like the rest.

In-fact, it is going to sup the red out of those roses you hold.

Is that worry embedded in your eyes?

Mppss… don’t worry much

I will be quickly forgotten like grounds on which you stepped yesterday

My idea, amidst these chocolate-y kisses, lavish hugs and endless cuddling is,

I think we can’t go on anymore

Yes i said i wanna be yours forever and i meant every word~~ BUTwoman-walking-away-from-man

You are just too heavenly good for me

Not that i distrust you but i can’t help notice the other girls stare you up while they roll their eyes down on me

I mean look at me,

I don’t know the next thing about mascara, lip-gloss and face lifts

My heels have so many cracks we have attempted to remove

I am sorry valentine but this is me saving myself from a very obvious future heartbreak

You will heal quickly this i am sure of

But if you don’t, remind yourself that if i let you go, possibly you weren’t mine!!

Isn’t red the color of love? It could also be the color for heartbreak… Continue this chain if you may!!

Daily Prompt: Joke

via Daily Prompt: Joke

He stared deep into her brown eyes

Noticed her freckled blushing cheeks

sucked in her scent that smelled of full bloom lilies

He hit the sidewalk with the heel of his tap-dance shoe

He wanted her like he did the stage for his survival

and yet he was scared she would take him for the joker that he was

She loved to laugh- so loud her eyes glistened

She loved to walk with hands tangled for warmth in these snow filled days

He was out of tricks for at his best, the girls had sneered

Up to no good wasted chap

Earning just a few shillings to make ends meet

He couldn’t bring her to his torture

She looked so fragile and delicate

He smiled for her anticipating self

Made a bow, kissed her knuckles and walked away


She stared at him leave

Her heart stinging with pain beyond the iced morning

With his back to her, he didn’t see why they called her a joke

Wiping away teary drops that would make a begger jolly on a hungry stomach

He toyed with her, making her believe, hold hope

And yet she had sworn she didn’t mind being a joke

At-least he laughed whole heartedly while he was with her

Until he overcame his cowardliness,

She would wait on him, She would pay for a front row seat at his shows

Just to watch his eyes as he spoke

Just to clap loudest

Just to know he will know she came

Just to be his Joke!!