10/01/2026
I was stressed the whole night thinking of my first love Kyalo. The boy from Mang'elete who left me like Kyelete.
I still have the last letter he left me in 1994 "tutaonana Inshallah" that was before he left for UK to search for greener pastures as a nurse after graduating from the then powerful Kenya Medical Training College. That was before this might institution grew wings and spread to areas like Mbuvo the home in Kathonzweni.
I know he met a lady who speaks fine the Queen's language with a fine waist like the wasp. And now you forgot the village Kathonzweni girl who writes English like it's a composition to be marked by grade 7 rating 🥲🥲🥲🥲.
Sometimes when the stress intensifies, I find myself consolation in Freshly Mwamburi's story, but si Stella at least came back. He got a chance to see her again even if it was impossible to hold her waist like they used to before she left to the land of the foreigners.
My brother Mr wise Music is yet to tell me if Ka-sweetie wake came back with goodies or bado noweteele.
But the story of Kasyoki wa Katitu gives me no hope especially when I remember that he died still waiting for Farida Mwelu to come back. 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
Where are you my lovely Kyalo, the son of the people of Kambu? I am now a grown woman selling chicken hoping to become like my president one day 🫣😉
