THE PARTNER, IN VIBE

An almost shameful, bittersweet reminiscence but somewhat a graceful,

tributary memoir.

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 Would it be criminal for me to profess love for you?

It didn’t feel right to me for a fair amount of time. It felt inappropriate

and I blamed myself for feeling in such a way. I shielded myself from

thinking the feeling was authentic or forged in my subconscious. I do this

quite a lot, mainly because it comes as a safe route to take from any

unforeseeable damage to the current status quo or, as colloquially stated,

current vibe. My thoughts are jumbled up as I try formulate this tribute-

piece into existence. Whenever I write these tributes, or when I felt like

writing the first time, my goal was always to show the person to whom it is

intended for how valuable their existence has been in my life. That includes,

definitely the impact they have had, and the way I would have felt about

them especially at that space in time. I usually try document these when the

emotion is still ripe and overflowing within, eager to be spilt aptly on a piece

of paper. What I know but never like to tell the inner man is that there’s

always one subtle rationale behind me documenting a whole experience with

or about someone; which is to solicit for a relationship or something not

explicitly detailed in the tribute letter. It has never worked to my advantage

as I would have hoped but the recipient characters in question always

respond in a way that grows our current relationship or bond in a very

positive way.

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 Yours is a very different and new case altogether. Firstly, because it

stems from a request; a request that was compelled and motivated by you

having read my previous submissions. Not that I never thought about it

before you requested for one; but I just never saw myself writing for

someone outside my spree of romantic escapades therefore making this a

challenge I relish. Secondly, because our relationship was complicated at

first, well at least on my end. I’ll explain the complication as we sojourn

down memory lane together. The second reason is an explanation of the

struggle I had with myself as to what stance should I employ in trying to

detail my experiences with you and the general feeling that envelopes our

everyday interactions.

I therefore titled this piece, “the partner in vibe” for obvious reasons.

It comes as no secret that our greatest of interactions was during the build

up to one of the greatest weddings of my two decades living. I sometimes

wish I had known you sooner. I also always wish I never stop knowing you

sooner. Both wishes serve as a test of authenticity for me. That is, if the

vibe we have ceases to die then the universe had made for our paths to

converge. This is battle I face each and every time I have new people come

into my life and somehow make me care for them unintentionally. Fear of

losing the fire grips me at the highest points of the experience. I never

hesitate letting the sentiment out, to whoever I may have a great connection

with and I feel should never end. I may also recall saying something in that

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regard to you a few days after the wedding. A lot of connections disconnect

and I never try to shield myself from that, though I distance myself from

talking about the demise of the current as much as possible. It helps to live

in the moment to the fullest and draw the most value from it. But all these

are disclaimers and justifications you may not care for. However, I find them

to be relevant context for this particular story.

Besides, although most of all the people who have received these

types of memoirs leave or are going to at some point, you and me are here

for life. Family ties.

All this being said, is it still criminal for me to profess love for you?

Maybe Yes. And I would understand the why. I would love to believe that as

humans we fear the utterance of these three magical words and I am no

exception there. I also believe there is no ultimate universal definition of

what love is and what it looks like. To be fair though, there are certain traits

exhibited by the character of love that are undeniable. For this context, I

plead a different type of love not within the confines of cultural rubrics. You

have grown to be one of my favorite people, to that there is no doubt even

on your end. I want to think the same applies for you about me but that will

only serve to undermine the organic nature of my feeling. Because I feel in

some way, I need not expect the same feeling to be reciprocal from you. The

feeling dies in that process. I have confided in you many a time and I

believe that’s something I cannot design to happen but happens of its own

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autonomous accord. Oh! Love right! I was still explaining the love. I don’t

recall many an instance where I told someone I loved them without side

thoughts. At the top of the list is my mom. I can’t remember the last time I

told her the words every mother would want to here. The last time I think I

did was back when I was still in primary school, young and religiously doing.

All those times however, even tracing back to my preschool years, I would

only tell my mom or assure her I did, but only, as reciprocation to her telling

me she did. I definitely cannot recall saying it to my sister even. Ironically,

she was the most supportive of all the people I know. I still don’t think she

understood many of the things I chose to pursue but she knew how to

present herself as a sister. I believe the reasons are distance. I was very

distant from my mom and sister all my life and when I grew old enough to

be able to discern feeling I stopped and somehow, she stopped-frequency-

and I think it’s because it just felt unnatural. I cannot recall the number of

times I have loosely told you I loved you and I just merely cared for your

existence. This is the sole reason for all that story about my relationship with

my mom and sister. For the record, I love them both but it’s more of

genuine appreciation than mere uncompelled feelings. For you it’s different.

I opened up to you faster than I thought. I might be an open book but

people who are open books are usually open books after some time of being

incorporated into a circle where they are comfortable enough to start picking

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pages and sharing. It could be because of your whole personality. This is the

part where the whole tribute starts.

The tribute

All this is me thinking out loud. This process acts as a self-therapy

session where I even try diagnose my beliefs and feelings. I usually discover

and learn a lot about me in the whole process. You can try it for yourself.

Unfortunately, I cannot remember the picture I had in my imagination

before meeting up with you for the very first time. After my exaltation to the

best man position by yours truly- the best groom ever, I was notified that

you wanted to meet, a meeting on getting our outfits sorted and maybe sort

out a few issues about the bridal team. I personally thought it was an issue

of familiarity and the first immediate confession would be that I didn’t know,

as of yet, that you were the immediate young sister to the bride by birth. I

didn’t know about you completely. For emphasis, your phone number was

not yet saved on my phone. And now that I think about it, it explains the

whole ‘Yolanda Belz kaNgezie lytie’ contact name. Not necessarily true; that

was me just being funny.

Weddings are fun! There’s opportunity for ‘fun’ and I shouldn’t be

judged for seeing an even easier opportunity when I’m in a bridal team and

the answer to fun is pairs. I will leave the fun implied here not explained. My

other justification is that I was definitely not the only one. The fellow

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comrades had already plotted to prey on their partner(s) to be. The Schieflin

plan, as one of the guys would term it, was already laid out and intact. We

were all to observe the terms of the plan; don’t annex land that is already

reserved for another as per the resolution. This should definitely humor you.

“White hoodie”. This was apparently the best description I gave for

identification the first day we interacted. You had me cross the road and

come to you, but ,even after doing that you were still far from our latest-

inbox-agreed-upon rendezvous. I speculate that you also were not sure who

the person you were looking for looked like. If that was the case, it then

makes the two of us. You were pinned against the Fazaq shop wall in a

yellow winter coat. Your sister; Belz, was wearing the same jacket the day

we all eventually went to see our tailor; Bernard, or so I believe it was the

same coat. That was a hint of a great sisterhood bonds for me. I digress.

Your inner top was a black V neck t-shirt tucked into black jeans and

accompanied by fresh white chuck tailors that exposed mine of their I-was-

once-white nature. The outfit had an effortless sense to it and embodied the

typical South African liberated girls. It didn’t say a lot about your care for a

certain type of fashion sense neither did it tell a story of a very wild and

outgoing lady or an introverted, intensely religious female. A definite

depiction was that of a not boring person.

The coat was mustard in color. Well, by the time you read this you

would know this was right after the time I asked you to confirm what you

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were wearing that first day we met. I may have ruined the effect by making

you confirm the outfit first before I proceeded down memory lane but I still

want to believe that there’s still points for just having to be corrected on the

color of the coat. Who’s keeping score anyway! My memory has never let me

down especially with all my first-time-meet moments.

Something about the way you stood against that wall just sold you out

to be the Yolanda I was texting with. I had images in my head and

expectations and as far as appearance was concerned, you didn’t disappoint.

The voice on WhatsApp did really corelate with what you were in person.

What were or, are you in person? Stick with me and maybe you might get to

know.

“I was told you were tall”.

That was your icebreaker. Not bad. Although, that convinced me that

you really didn’t know the person you were expecting to meet. The V neck

was a little distracting to the whole introductory conversation we were

having; showing a little skin. I’m an average of my gender kind so don’t

dare judge me. Besides, the bonds were not that solid enough for me to

even feel ashamed on a massive level. I feared being caught starring. So

much for a first impression! One of my greatest fears prior to meeting or

even knowing you were that we might be the worst pair ever. That would

mean we are solely business companions but have nothing to share outside

event related issues. I played this scenario many times in my head until our

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practice sessions. I feared this because I sometimes come off as very

sophisticated or, rather, trying to be verbose. This is my reflex in new

territory and I think it’s because the mind tells me I can be respected

whenever I am viewed as an intellectual more than just a random guy. If I

am to try justify it also, I’d say it is the default typical alpha male syndrome.

I recall the last thing I said to you before we parted was a promise to share

something about my religiosity. We were talking about praying for good

weather on the day. That could have been one of my feeble attempts to

sound sophisticated and a cut above the random rest. I am, in all modesty,

something special and definitely and intellectual but the inner man often

times chooses the wrong time. I still owe you that conversation by the way,

at the time of this writing I still do.

Cool and very welcoming. You made me feel like we had known each

other a long time then. I loved that about you. I shared a joke time and

again and when I saw you engaged and laughing with me, I was certain

bonding wouldn’t be a problem. Generally, there was no pressure to

impress. Why would there be? We were family, right!

The online conversations after the first meetup was a buzz. I was so

curios to know about you. It was all in the grand scheme of seeing if the two

lines were parallel or would converge eventually.

“I tried clubbing with my friends and I didn’t like it.”

“I just love to be chilled with my friends and stay in.”

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 “I sing in church and I believe that God can do anything so I’ll pray for

the weather”.

“MSU is just okay!”

All these were negative sentiments for someone I hoped would be an

entire vibe to begin with. I was getting disappointed because your story was

marred with introvert and holier-than-thou tendencies. It was also close to

frustrating because it also meant there wasn’t going to be any ‘fun’ on the

day. I wish I could insert emojis here. I feel like the smiles on my face as I

write should also be seen. More like a behind the scenes type of thing. I

digress again! Notice how this is still an encapsulation of mostly how I

thought you’d be like as opposed to what you were in reality.

Nompilo, your friend. I honestly don’t have feelings for her. She has

the color but nothing else I think I can work with, given my short interaction

with her. You’d know this because I have even gotten to the point of

clumsily sharing with you what I would expect to get in a girl. By the way,

those details were not exhaustive, they are wants I never cast on stone.

That I know for sure. I guess eventually, I felt comfortable, or you made me

so much comfortable, around you that I could just open up without any

expectant incentive. Me having ‘tingers’ for her was something I kept

running as a joke or just a story to talk about. I do this a lot especially when

I can see it can go on for a long time and I will never get a chance sit at that

table with the victim in question. You were and are always resistant to

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having me have anything to do with your friends and that always keep the

game on my side alive. Actually, I don’t have feelings for any of your

friends. I do find some of them attractive for my liking but that’s definitely

not the point here. Forgive me also if I am coming off as objectifying your

feminine counterparts. Of all the time I have been around you, you were

unexciting when Nompilo came through. Well maybe an iota of unexciting.

Also, because we were still on the bond formation phase and the whole

exclusionary vibe would have killed my subtle endeavors; to be the best duo

available. I cared about this. And you might be asking yourself why? That

was the only day I felt the most distant from ever formulating something

solid. You spoke also a great deal about Azile; the best man of choice, and I

figured maybe I would have been a down play to the already existent modus

operandi between you and him. Call it whatever you want, I don’t care for

judgement now. But on the same day your friend came through is when I

started noticing traces of a vibe. You were dancing! Ejaculatory half-cooked

dance moves where the crescendo to our conversations while we shopped

for suits and made makeup inquiries. I asked if you were a dancer and the

response was damning and heroic at the same time.

“Nc mina, ngzakutshisa fana.”

I wanted to be the life of the party and you being that confident was

almost akin to shifting the green light from me. On the other hand, I just

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couldn’t wait to partner with the free spirited you that was now surfacing.

“She’s not bad after all”, I thought.

It was also heroic to learn you could dance. I am a music fanatic alone

but I’ve enjoyed every vibe partner I have had; which translates to all the

birthday parties I have been to. I love female dance partners. I’ve had one

before. Just a dance partner, unplanned but correct vibe at the right time. I

love a vibe that is mutual and you were about to breathe life into that

reality. What a better way to have a jolly great time than with the same

energy emitted from the maid of honor. The first evidence of you-got-me

was when I had forgotten your friends name. I’m not good with names and I

don’t justify it in any way. That short behind the scenes response, your lips

silently formulating the name Nompilo, half attentive to the conversation she

was presenting, was conviction that we were going to be buddies. I think the

answers are always in the smaller details; in the actions that people commit

reflexively and subconsciously and that scene is no better classic example.

The Bernard saga

Boys talk. They talk about lot of things and definitely women,

obviously. An impromptu caucus transpired at the tailors’ workshop. The

conversation was a thesis on why I should try my luck and have ‘fun’ with

you on the day. The justification was not new. In fact, it was the same

hedonist idea that my fellow groomsmen had evoked. “All weddings are

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known for fun. It should happen one way or the other because it’s a

wedding”, muttered Bernard.

My response to that sentiment was always neutral. In fact, even to

date it has always been thus. I surely didn’t want to conceal my biasness

towards the idea neither did I want to come off as a shameful pervert who

doesn’t value the solemnity of family lines. I lamented the bond that we

were to establish-as a consequence of our brother and sister tying the knot-

as my reason not to. The tailor was not phased. “You do it once and don’t

turn back”.

These were the counter arguments. I didn’t have a lot to offer as

rebuttal. I wanted to but the reality surfacing before me was enough to send

any form of rebuttal back. At this point I’m sure you can draw conclusions as

to what I felt and kind of struggled with. You walked in on us having that

conversation about you. We resorted to coded speech, clumsily generated at

the summon of necessity. I thought you might have picked up the

conversation. I hoped you’d ask me about it. If wishes were horses, so goes

the old adage, then beggars would jolly ride. I refrained from making

comments about your body, while you went on about how the lockdown had

made you gain a few extra kilos enough to fit you out of your suit pants. The

reasons are still the same, I feared coming off as an expected would be

brother shamefully pecking at the physique of his sister in that grave

unorthodox way. For the record, I still believe you were doing fine and you

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were also fine. I mean really fine! The question I still ask myself even now is

can I be judged? The fear of judgment especially from you, the bride, the

groom and all counterparts were key in me not compiling this. I was still

getting to know you and I can confess to walking on eggshells all the time I

spoke with you or was with you.

Cde Milie features here. I thought the two of you had subtle romance,

and it was more logical even given the distant blood ties. He was the person

that me and the tailor thought would mess up any plans. He could easily be

the person of choice. Outside the ‘fun’ prospect I just didn’t like the idea of

being a dance partner and only to be left for a vibe with the groomsmen of

choice. Call it whatever you want, I think I just valued not being an outlier

while we were both in the same suit. Sounds really petty. But, there’s no

other way to frame it. I loved pestering you about the prophesy at the

wedding. I went on for a long time always teasing you about him and how

the both of you would just make a great pair. I did the same to him, many a

time. Shamefully, planted with the roots of that pursuit was a need to

discern the overall feeling either of you had for the other. The justification

was that he had a girlfriend, was a family friend and all the other assertions

that didn’t make it to my I-am-convinced brain compartment. A part of me

loved that dismissal, particularly before the day. It meant the possibility of

positive outcome was widened.

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 How are we here now? Where did the other courage come from for me

to eventually start this journey of reminiscence and introspection in black

and white. I think I must tell you I had a conversation with Azile. At the time

of the conversation the inner man was burning to compile this but, was still

chained by the fear. What if it comes off in the wrong way than that which I

wanted to depict it in. Cut to the chase, that conversation normalized a lot

and summoned the adrenaline to begin. It would be a miracle if the details

of that conversation are not in your knowledge.

*****

You are a vibe! Almost a free spirit. Definitely one of the rare breeds

that shine out the light in a dull room. Or so I believe. Because everyone has

their view and experiences with someone, this counts as my own

perspective.

I cannot recount a lot from the two practice sessions we had prior to

the day. I can definitely recall the person you were there. Ready to burst

into a force of laughter whenever amusement rained. I had known you a

week and it still felt like it had been forever. Cool and calm again, you lazily

danced as we tried to choreograph what became our official bridal routine. I

recall even the Chris Breezy pre-dance while we awaited the second “koko”;

our cue to begin the official dance, from the Koko Matswale banger. You

blended smoothly with the routine, but most importantly, with me.

Effortlessly, my energy was matched. Someone had a good thing coming

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their way. a part of me did not like you staying behind with the man of

choice. The reasons already mentioned above cannot be overstated here.

Instead, the reasons were amplified the more when your mutual vibe was so

correct. Call it whatever you want, I can only control how I react but I hardly

can control those unannounced emotions. The second session was even

more enticing for me. I think at this point spending time with you was now

something I enjoyed subconsciously; something I wouldn’t have loved to

admit even to myself bluntly and explicitly. Remember the ‘Schieflin plan’. I

was always wary of how Khossy presented himself and reacted towards you.

Because the plan had excluded him from pursuing a fellow bridesmaid, you

were definitely the second in the reactivity chain. Call it whatever you want.

Overdone? Sure. Don’t judge me, then. His, was more of a brotherly

approach and that was looked perfect. Perfect for the dances to continue

obviously! That being said, I don’t think you would make a good leader, and

I say this with love. You are too kind to lead. See, I envision people who are

not soft and easily put off by emotions being the most apt leaders. You

wouldn’t lead with an iron fist but a smile. that for me is classic mother

Theresa leadership and I think there can only be one. You also don’t lash out

much. These observations are subject to scrutiny on condition of time lived

in your presence. Your default response to anything going amiss was either

a sigh of despair and hopelessness or soft, agitated utterances, threatening

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to also let go, the grievance- lack of co-operation. I’m not here to discern

good and bad but to observe and detail.

The laugh.

Your laugh. It’s very easy to mistake the fade in as sounds of feminine

sexual moans. The crescendo and climax can’t help but be contagious. I

think it presents a sense of existing without caring about what people say or

think of one. Definitely might not be the case, but may be depicted thus. It

has a unique irreplaceable energy embedded in it. I’m a fan of that part; the

part that unconditionally gives in to natures’ call of amusement. It cannot be

faked. A sure fine test of character; because it’s authenticity cannot be

misjudged.

This part is a tribute to just how you and me were, and may still just

be a great team. It cannot be overstated, even now. It has been said many

a time by many, and almost everyone who has seen this duo in action. The

walls of the Bulawayo courts know. So do the roads that lead up to the

Bulawayo state house. The Bulawayo gift shops. The streets. The unofficial

driving-school grounds in the Bulawayo CBD. The list goes on. I wish that

God may bless all your endeavors, the work of your hands and that of your

mind, only because I felt reflected many a time in you. Damn monotony,

these stories will forever be cherished, even for the grand-children that will

be.

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 The day

If this memoir was cake, this section would be the icing.

I’ve never known how I feel about makeup. At some point in my life I

appreciated sisters who didn’t bother slithering down that path. I then

became a fan of those who can do it because, apparently, it’s a lot of work.

Eventually, I stopped caring and treating either of the two parties as

superior to another. This was growth. Get it my right, I’m not saying you are

not gorgeous neither am I saying you are, but the artificial is less effort on

already established natural states. And I’m sorry, but this is as clear as I can

be. I’ll try do this in the appropriate and the inappropriate way,

simultaneously. I still assume those distinctions exist. I have a fetish for

natural hair and you would know that from reading my two previous

memoirs. You trimmed yours! Not really the point. On a second thought, I

won’t do this. Maybe at a second review or on request. But it would be

criminal not to talk about the mouthwatering and jaw dropping you that

graced the church red carpet, turning heads and stimulating low-pitched

comments from the meagre crowd gathered to witness the solemnizing of

the lovebirds. To say I wasn’t eager to see you would constitute a fallacy on

God. To even see the whole crew and the massive makeovers was a cannot-

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wait. After all, unofficially, we had both made the now-common threat,

“Ngzakutshisa”.

It was the day of reckoning. I also couldn’t wait for you to see me. I

believe I’m a fashionista and I do clean up good for a boy in the hood (Kasi

boy). But you had at some point criticized my style; the time we were

getting suit measurements and I was painting a picture of how I would dawn

the whole outfit on the day. It lightly pricked on my little pride, given that I

so believed I had established myself thus far and had a lot of classy people

who could attest to it being real. The only time I thought I had come close to

redeeming myself, after that almost defeating conversation at the tailors,

with the lovebirds, was when we pulled up to court, Friday before the day. It

was game on. Little did I know that, even though I had revamped, the

limelight wasn’t going to be mine. It was, relatively with the rest of the

squad, for us but between me and you, I couldn’t begin to marvel at you.

Last, after the bridesmaid, and definitely not least, black purse neatly

clutched to the front while dangling the face-mask freely on its side bangles,

you cat-walked in. The reaction among the comrades was uncoordinated but

similar in assertion. You were unbelievable! Stunning. Endowed with

triangular earrings- a perfect complement to the chocolate-brown round

face. The hair was amazing. Red-like lips as if to match the blazer and waist-

coat. The outfit echoed verses from Emtee’s ‘roll up’ record, “Came to your

gig and I stole the show”. You and me both.

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 The smile would seal the deal; your very own weapon of mass

destruction. Bringing with it, the pumping up of those baby-like cheeks

piercing the atmosphere with an I-am-here-to-slay feel. Surreal. Of beauty;

you are an above average of your kind. I couldn’t wait to concede defeat. I

starred across to you, countless times and once in a while I would marvel at

the beauty you were, packaged as my twin, next to my would-be sister in

law while sharing the greatness at the VIP glass-like transparent chairs.

Something about the whole look came with a sense of maturity and finesse.

Yolanda-the-sentimental comes out mostly when the conversation turns to

spirituality and life lessons. We became unhinged soon after the reception

ended. We were already on fire and what better way to start the day. You

were so full of life. Ever militantly full of life. We were both on cloud ninety-

nine.

I didn’t enjoy that ride to the venue though as much as I thought I

should have. I believe, if it wasn’t for you it would have been dreadful. I was

withdrawn and you may have noticed. The truth is in the iota of the

subconscious details. It’s common courtesy to care for the wellness of others

but it’s another thing to notice that instability in one’s independent world.

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The point here is that I just valued how looking out for either was now being

normalized.

I loved every tiny bit of the official ceremony. Like African spirit

mediums possessed by the ancestral spirits, giving in to the base bang of

the African drum, we danced. We were like caged birds recently set free,

oblivious of the future, and choosing to partake of the recently gained

freedom in the most hedonistic of ways. No level of yours was unreachable

for me, neither was mine to yours. The bridal dance freestyle; a statement

that we were there to murder the sadness, which may have not even dared

exist. The lunch break dance; soulfully gliding on old age splash melody. The

comments punctuating our impromptu, on the spot dance routine validated

the self-evident chemistry. Without fear of integrity compromise and

judgement, we collided with the sound waves and drowned in the applause

and appraise. The rest is history. I am a firm believer in a notion of rare

compatibility; consequently, it calls for an appreciation of the few

complements we meet in this life time. Because, often we cannot force

chemistry nor compatibility but, maybe, we can only create compromise.

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 #

I want to feel in some way about your singing but it doesn’t come. I

believe I haven’t heard you at your best. I want to hear you at your very

best. Needless to say, the audios kill my frown every time they come. If I

were to be admitted at a hospital you make the list of those invited to come

give me reason to keep living.

Why all this stuff about my family not you?

Well, the day had a hiccup on your part. If I my mind still serves me

well, you were at some point crying. The reason was you being overwhelmed

or being blamed for something I still cannot recall. Details are not important

here. You came to me during the after-wedding photoshoot and poured it all

out. There you were, comfortably on my shoulder, easing the pressures

within. That moment was very emotional for me, and the why is contained in

this short, personal anecdote. I mentioned initially how my relationship with

my sister wasn’t that much of the sister-young-brother goals. She executed

her sisterly duties well. I actually preferred her for visiting days than any

other person but, we never really talked much on the deep bonding

conversations. I thus wished for that sibling hood goals. I hoped I had found

it when I started staying with this my cousin sister at Pumula. But somehow,

we lost it along the way. Or maybe I did. My next stop was to dream about it

for my young bloods in the states. Believe me you, I always fantasize about

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same outfit photoshoots, gaming with the boys and so the list is endless. I

would sometimes wish for the typical movie scenarios; to carry my cousin

over to bed when they sleep on the couch, cover them with a blanket and

give them a good night kiss. All castles in the air. Why am I telling you all

this, just in case you feel I’m rumbling on about me and no longer about

you, the staring character of this story? Well, that single moment felt like my

sibling hood goals personified. I shoulder hugged you and told you it was

going to be okay and that I didn’t want anyone troubling my Yolanda. I still

don’t want drama on my Yolz. In the now and in the distant future. It’s not a

cry for maturity or superiority on my side. It’s just embedded somewhere in

the stuff I may have missed hence, is somehow compensated for in many a

way, and that one. I managed to let a smile emerge from your face and

eventually we were jolly gay again, like new born babes silently sucking at

their mothers’ full course breast milk. This should have been one of the

emotional highlights of the day. What more could the heart wish for?

Photoshoot Night

This story is not complete if I don’t talk about that one time you had

me come help you button up your shirt. That night photoshoot is also

something to live for. The summons did not specify that I was off to come

help you. I was even taken aback when my service was being requested on

your behalf. It was a moment of weakness. Thankfully I did keep a straight

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face and hold a not weird conversation during the process. Or at least, I

hope I wasn’t sounding any weird. The last time I tried sharing my wild

dream with you I was ridiculed for spelling out the details. I will not wander

down the same rabbit hole. This makes the cut of notable events because it

was a momentary point of clarity. I did see you as a sister subconsciously.

Which might explain all the guilt I had when I asked myself if it was criminal

for me to profess love for you. I remember even playfully carrying you in

your black heels, while the cameras flashed on the couple of the hour. Even

the pictures, although intimate, I believe at that time the thought of a

would-be potential crossed my mind, but a few times. The idea of ‘fun’ was

completely outshined by all the real fun we had. The clouds may have been

clearing. Who am I fooling? This had elements of my other memoirs, which I

have already shared with you. Duh!

I hate it when you brush of engagement in a conversation. You don’t

brush off engagement a lot but whenever you do, it’s effective. Most of the

times, the response is a redundant, “I hear you”. I may hate that you know

I have I have a massive soft spot for you, but it’s not like I try go incognito

with that piece of fact. I hate that I can’t think of anything else I hate about

you. To say hate is also a very strong word for either scenarios.

*****

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 Clarity

I mention that our relationship was complicated at first. For the sake

of clarity, I meant I did not know exactly how to feel about you. Actually, I

knew but that wasn’t the complication. The stasis was whether or not I

should shield myself from feeling thus. Was I absurd in my nature for having

such an outlook on this life? I detail this also at the beginning. The whole

fear of judgement thing already over stated in this whole piece. I guess what

I have been trying to conceal all this way to here is the fact that I had begun

to like you. Not only as a mere sister in law but also as a potential romantic

partner. There, I said it. Many reasons can be placed as to why such a grave

feeling may rise. I can also speculate, play safe, and say the organic

chemistry was the biggest factor. Because it’s natural stuff that cannot be

forced, I say it’s a legitimate grievance.

The resolution

When all the hogwash is said and the wishy-washy bush beating is

concluded, I need come to terms with one distinct persona. I love to think

this is how I feel about you; I accept, without shame, that I did like you for

something bigger than sibling hood. I however believe, there’s value in me

being a very supportive brother, great vibe partner and close friend you can

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always confide in than in a would-be, maybe complicated path. Worse off, an

infatuated me blown away by your dazzling presence. My then unofficial

therapist and clinical psychologist- Veeru manigga, as I love to call him,

approved the possibility as culturally lawful. Not to say what Azile approves I

do but he was more apt to play the scene in path and draw a conclusion. I

didn’t trouble myself into looking into the finer nitty-gritty and nuances to

that regard. The NaBulie audio was also to me an assumption that the

possibility of us wasn’t a thought that didn’t see the light of her day. Of late,

the comments that captioned the last set of pictures. “lizasisthela kahle”.

My granny at some point hinted on that prospect too. I cannot begin to

detail the equivalent from my friends, or maybe yours too. Embedded in all

this is that, what I thought I felt was rekindled every time by these

sentiments from people so much that the feeling became normalized and

familiar.

The justification

In a nutshell, I still feel my justification throughout falls short. Allow

me to reiterate. If after travelling with me here, you may still think the ways

I may have felt about you where, or are, shameful and not expected of me, I

like to offer my deepest sincere apologies. Apologies for even making you

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succumb through this, if I may, traumatic memoir. However though- I can’t

say hopefully or not- if you share the same sentiments with me, that I can’t

control how I feel about a person who I just met and am required to

program- into my mind- the veil of bloodlines, then I gracefully present my

submission. It’s easier for someone who you have lived with all your life or

constantly know as a close cousin or so because it doesn’t become a

question of reprogramming new into the system but something that is

engraved within. Or maybe it should be automatic? It didn’t happen for me.

Simply put, there is more learning in the establishment of a marriage joint

than in the other reflexive and automatic bonds, if I may say. But all this,

frankly, is still me trying to mitigate the damage that this piece may have in

the perspective that you may then have after reading this. Basically, me

trying to save face.

*****

Suffice to say, I’m happy we are here. I didn’t see myself being able to

document our experiences and even set free the emotions I had incarcerated

within. I want to be on record saying I appreciate you deeply; not only

because we are a socket and plug that, when connected, electrify the

atmospheres we may grace, but, because I have found value in your

presence. Amongst those, is your spirituality. I admire that and I wish it for

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myself. I also believe you have a big heart and undoubtedly, you are a great

listener. Power! As humans, we live to find meaning in the life vocations we

pursue-careers, beliefs, hobbies, role models et al. The biggest of these

meaning sources, is companionships. The friends we relate with, family, or

people in general. These are the people, whom, when one is about to

commit suicide, they think about what it would mean if they miss out on the

lives of those counterparts. They are a few and rare. To me, you are one of

those seldom existences. I still don’t know the color of the love I profess,

unfortunately. I only hope these words paint that rainbow perfectly for you.

Contrary to my initial supposition, I now think it could be unfair for me

to wish we never lose the feel we have. It places a burden beyond our

control on either of us, hence, this memoir cannot be more relevant. That

whatever the future holds, the now is neatly captured in a tribute letter.

This is also not a call for any form of action. It definitely wishes that

the heart, where these words fall on, may find within it to appreciate that

this comes with no malicious intent and will regret changing status quo for

bad.

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 Finally, to a greater extent, you need not glory at this piece. This can

be a prayer, that on God, in His grand scheme of plans, He made our worlds

collide. If we can’t thank God for the people in our lives, we cannot begin to

notice the rest of the blessings he has bestowed on us. And with this, my

supplication extends to the heavens.

Would it be criminal for me to profess love for you? How so?

You tell me.

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