Ess Waceke (21stars)
Brian
I met Brian on Friday at 5 PM,
At Bombolulu Stage, where the echoes of youth
Still linger. Once the heartthrob of the estate,
Before drugs changed the script of his life.
He was once the epitome of handsome,
Everything we boys admired from magazines.
Now he looked dejected, eyes hollow,
Shoulders slumped, hands trembling
As he sipped from a bottle.
“Niwachie za maji, mamii,” I smiled.
"Bado uko na rizz bazenga,"
It can’t be gone, “Bado waringa.”
"Siwezi wacha," I replied.
"Niwekee basi nikunywe maji," he requested.
I handed him 100 bob.
"Najua sijui nilifika hapa vipi," he said.
Maybe I had everything or I was just reckless.
"Unaona ukitoka kwa hii life?" I asked.
"Sioni, maybe not now."
We walked to Mama Asia for viazi karai.
When a car approached, Brian hid his face,
Muttering, “Wah! Yule alikuwa dem yangu,
I fumbled vibaya. Mathee hataki story zangu,
I used a lot of money at rehab.”
At Mama Asia, Brian knelt,
I thought he was thanking God for the viazi,
But no, he was picking chewed pieces of muguka
From the ground, storing them in a plastic bag.
“Zitaleta steam bado?”
“Hapana, kuna venye ntazifanya,” he said,
Hiding the pieces, while everyone stared.
I bought my usual order and headed home,
Leaving him behind, eating his usual fare.
He’s part of the statistics now,
I hope he breaks free soon and finds his way.
