Tag: sexuality

I WAS CRUCIFIED

I was crucified…
yes, down on my bed
with ropes of love
and thorns of passion
I was tied down
my body teased till I burnt with so much passion
that my juices couldn’t stop to flow
the only crime was horn
a horn only nature can define
I said i was burning and instead of putting the fire out,
firewood was placed and petrol was sprinkled.
the thieves at my chest saluted in mockery as a petal brushed over them
the river in between my legs lawwd
its turning into a waterfall
one I am not able to control and yet,
his tongue still teases my clit

I am crucified, for a crime I am not guilty
but for a pleasure I love
I wanna keep going
but my breath is giving way
I am whizzing in between my moans
his hands choking me at every thrust
I clench my fists,
I tilt my head
but there’s no room for body movement
my body is speaking a different kinda language today,
my voice is playing a unique note
because this new strummer is a specialist

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The Man with whom i share my Bed(1)

He woke up stretching, I was standing by the bed, leaning against the bar that holds the mosquito net up and staring down at him. He said Good morning and i responded with a sly smile. ‘Slept well i can see’…i said starting to walk towards the bathroom. and your breakfast is ready, i banged the door and turned on the shower.

I unwrapped my rob and felt the temperature with my fingers just before I stood under the shower. I Just wanted to sit under it for a while but i knew i wasnt alone anymore and he would ask what was keeping me long. I let the water slowly kiss and run over my skin. Thoughts of last night came flashing back. They just couldn’t go away. I scrubbed my body like i had been defiled. Is this what virginity at 30 smells like? It had hurt. I did scream, lucky enough our house stands alone so i didn’t have neighbours that would come knocking at my door to check for a problem.

He had been so tender with me but it still hurt. He had drawn the curves of my body like he was sketching out his next art piece. The ambiance was good. Dave koz playing softly (i mean my mourns call the noise kept hitting higher than the jazz). He softly caressed my nipples (i had never seen them that hard) Where did he even learnt all this from. How many other women has he sketched out like this. He had kissed and breathed against my neck. He had in fact left a Hickey(i saw it this morning when i got up to prepare breakfast). He buried his head in-between my legs and i recall pleading that he switched off the lights. I was shy he was sniffing and licking my NIN. I was out of breath and could not even say the word stop without spelling it..S..T..O…O…P… But he didn’t, he kept going till my legs started to tremble like a breeze of cold air had brushed quickly against my skin. He was back to my face, rubbing and kissing my lips, he dived into my breasts. I wanted to call for help….But i have avoided this way too long it had to happen ne way or another

I looked down at my fingers and their it was. The golden wedding band i got the last week. It was shinning. I quickly cleansed my body and grabbed my towel and moved out of the bathroom. He was standing completely naked searching the tv channels(was this how everyday was going to turn out?) That was a long shower he said….Let me also go in then come and see what we have today….I nodded while I pulled out the stool at my dressing table(my Senga had gifted me with this on the eve of my Traditional wedding). Their he was in a few seconds…out of the shower naked stood the man with whom am going to share my bed forever….

 

30 day challenge #1

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DAY ONE

Well, i will start with the 15 interesting facts not the picture. However they cant be 15 really, i dont think am that comical. I really have to think hard through all these facts. Well, i looked at these questions and thought Why not!

1: I love maize. Roasted, boiled, popcorn but i HATE hardcorns Jeez. I normally say maize is the only thing i want to crave when i concieve.

2: I love to write but i prefer to read other people’s work than my own

3: I studied Mass Communication, majored in print. I Finacial work pays my bills

4: I have a name only my primary one teacher knows. I said it once the class asked “what is that?” since then it qualified for a nickname

5: I have too many friends including taxi conductors and boda riders my mother keeps asking if i want to stand for mayor

6: I attended 7 schools in six years, Dont ask how i did it. I also do not know

7: One day i was accused of being a Lesbian by some babe in school because i was a tomboy. I am dying to meet her spouse so that she can prove am straight. Too straight at that

8: I have a very cool adopted sister we call Baaba and most of my life i thought Baaba was a name kumbe its a title where i come from

9: I have a real village that i have only visited for burials. Its very saddening that i have never stayed to enjoy it

10: I do love to dance even when i hardly know what new song Bafana has or Beyonce. I dance to everything. Traditional, local,…as long as its music and my body can move

11: I love to do spoken word, but it takes a village to have me memorise my own work. I prefer someone else reciting it

12: I love flowers

13: I like to sing but sadly i am not very talented. Actually i am not talented at all even the genda ogule emotoka guy sounds better. My brother often laughs at me when i sing 7 keys in one line. God knew hehe but the world would be dead if i was talented

14: I have struggled to make 13 facts basically dont ask for more

15: Dont be thirsty for more. I am no celeb my whole life cant be served in 15 facts ehh!

Now the picture, lets see…

kwanza Photo credit:Daron

mbirri: Temuwakana. how do you know its not me. is it you?

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Love Letters-17

THE MECHANIC

So,(who starts a sentence with so even).

She broke down in mukono and I could only push her till bweyogerere. I wondered what had happened to her all over a sudden. I safely managed to park on the side and opened the bonnet. I actually thought its something I can fix by myself. Well I tried to caress her and sweet talk her to start all over again but she just wouldn’t light up again. She was gloomy and pale. Her bulb had blown. I sat in misery. Contemplating on leaving her as I jump unto another but she wasn’t safe.

I called him and he sent “him” (the mechanic). I sat for another hour waiting on him to arrive and when he did I didn’t even take my eyes off my phone. I told him what happened and pointed him to where the key was. He placed his bagbin the passenger seat while I moved to the back seat. He took his time and fondled her, caressed her, loved her but non of it turned her on. I looked at the mechanic from the corner of my eye and he wore a greasy blue jacket.He was dark skinned. But I still paid little attention. After another two hours, she had no arousal so I decided to step out and ask…Wow!……he was 5:8ft tall, muscular, you could not easily tell he had been visiting the gym. He raised his head to look at me and I felt the middle of my legs letting me down. I quickly backed off into the car. Thinking… Thinking and imagining…..well he was different from my mister, whose belly had carried a pregnancy for more than 2 years and he just refused to deliver. It was like a hump during our love making sessions so we had to look for options that worked for our pregnancy condition. It was now darker and the cars where reducing (don’t ask me why I didn’t leave her with him when her arrived). About 11pm, he walks to my side and tells me he was done and we were good to go. Well, I think you should drive. I said.

He obliged since we were taking same direction. He kept stealing glances of me at the back and well,I was starved. So I requested he stopped somewhere so I could pick up something to eat. When he did, he took off his greasy coat, exposing his body. He had nothing but a vest beneath. Pulled a shirt from his backpack and walked into the supermarket to get me a snack. I watched him walk away and walk back. He wore a beautiful smile as he handed the juice and cookies over to me. Pulled his shirt off, exposing his worked on arms. I looked into his eyes and thought…why not…

So, I changed my mind. Would you like to share with me, I asked. He smiled. Or would you like to have some of this, exposing my thighs in my short skirt. He drove silently to a darker place and stopped. “I think I’d love to have both”. He said. I broke my sit at the back…..

Sexual Harrasment!

I was shopping with my 16-year-old son downtown. He needed a few things so we went to Owino looking. from the entrance, I was called all sorts of names from the stall owners. Darlings, baby, auntie…and they kept grabbing my hand each time. Auntie come and see dresses.

Well, I got the things i wanted at the end of the day and believe me if we got disease from being touched without approval, yesterday i would have been on my death-bed. I have never felt so much filth. Well, we decided to pass by the park yard, A man playing matatu in the corridor grabbed my hand so hard that it hurt and refused to let go. I raised my hand in attempt of a slap and he quickly got to his fit. “you want to sleep me?how?who are you?just because i touched you?” … Me puzzled i collect my jaw and tell him that’s sexual harassment. You can’t grab me, call me baby and sexy in one sentence as if i am yours or some toy…”gwe asose?” he adds (asking if i am the first woman he has done that to.) In my Shock and my son looking on i grabbed his hand and turned to leave. He calls out, Sexual harrasment, so suppose i got you rapped what would that be?

My question is…who tells these men that women are property? That females don’t have a right to walk about freely, that men can just grab and toss and say whatever they want?

On the other hand I feel like my president is too Soft. In Kigali, Kagame would not let such a man stay on the streets, he has become an animal and needs to be locked up. You cant be treating females like they don’t matter. No wonder i never let my girls walk alone down town. I always imagine what those animals will do with them. Tapping their asses and breasts and grabbing them. Just that my boy was silent whole time, i wonder what was going on in his head the whole time. Government worries  about condoms more than sanitaries, yet the girl child and females need much more to life than have men like that. Anyways in another world, if i had a gun, that gy and many more would have been long dead. maybe then, just maybe then, men like him will humble themselves.

I wasn’t sure if I used him or he used me. #whatsapptales

I liked him,

He was the talk in town

On every young girls lips

I was hot and young so I availed myself

Paraded my legs in heels

And swayed my hips for him

I wore my best perfume and purchased a new mac red lipstick.

I wanted him so bad

Needed to taste him

Needed to see what was special about him.

My efforts didn’t disappoint.

I finally had him and I was at his house

In his bedroom on his bed.

He didn’t rush, he took his time

Gently ripped my clothes off

Took a trip around my curves and gent got in

He made love to me tenderly

I desired him more. At every bite beneath his breath…

I wasn’t sure if I was the one using him.or he was using me.

It was no 69

I came back next day, and the next and next.

Then he no longer made love to me

It wasn’t a rush no more

He kissed me hard

I missed the little bites

The tour he took,

He tied me to the bed and fucked me

Yes, it was making love no more

Fucked me in the car, on the kitchen table, at the bathroom sink.

He Fucked me till my legs got muscle pulls

Till I couldn’t mourn no more

Till I could not speak.

It was dirty and it ripped me apart.

He teased me no more

It was rush and quick.

He hit my head to the wall

Grabbed me at the window seal till I choked.

(He used me more than I planned to use him)

I am not sure if I am using what’s app or its fucking me.

Love Wins? *2*

Her speech was stolen for a while and replaced with tears. Her hands empty and soul dry, love made her ashamed. She always desired something simple like not being second.

Her story became too twisted that none of her friends could keep up. One day she is defensive and the next she hates the life out of him and another she is confused. A collage of mixed feelings is what she wore. Her marriage was nothing functional but something she entered because she was stylish. She said she love him or (she thought she did) so with her diamond glued to her finger tat she once waved about because she was finally off the rack, she let her tears down freely. She stopped pretending to be strong, trying to make it work because she only ruined the little left.

She knew he would fall short (but not this soon) , she had only begun to enjoy him and their life together. But see, Love covers a multitude (she thought even without knowledge of its depth) on her knees she landed.Pleaded for her soul to be broken and for her load to be lifted. She was served at Calvary even when she didn’t understand much she knew this is the only place she knew that rescued her, the only place where love wins and the only way to get there was on her knees speaking the prayer language.

She run out of patience, her knees were taking time (or so she thought). She wondered how her mama managed for so many years and not for once let the world know that she hurt or even seen markings of tears on her face, she ran to church.

 

SHE #puzzledlines

bbeb1c27bf8a410c29614d1959654da4 Her voluptuous body,

sculpted like a perfect piece of art,

curved like a violin.

through the mirror he stared back at her

she smeared her lotion,

with a grace of a thousand angels.

gently drawing every curve with the tips of her fingers.

slowly he swallowed gallops of saliva

longing to touch her

and strum the strings of her nakedness,29390232ec54bb5496a814f8e22bdae8

but he held back.

Even when he was burning with ecstasy,

and adored her naked soul

he silenced his demons with a hymn.

 

Virginity Pledge Broken More Often than Condoms #Twefugge #EndTeenagePregnancy

My first knowledge about contraception was in my first  at the university. At a period where most of us have had our virginity pledges broken more often than condoms. I had escorted a friend to hospital and i do not recall how the topic came up because she was doing a monitoring for her internal organs. “My wife and I have spent 5 years with no child,” the doctor started. ‘I used to encourage her to take progesterone-pill while at campus however we had no knowledge of the things we needed to know , her body reaction, how often and for what kind of emergency but it was a quicker option and almost every girl talked about it.’ Our jaws dropped. But well he took us through all the types of contraceptives how they worked so we were left to determine what works for us. condoms, caps, implants, injections, IUDs, moon beads,progesterone-pill,Virgina ring, diaphragms, withdraw method…(name it).

Apart from condoms and pills i had no idea bout the rest. I wasn’t even sure about pills because there many brands and i had never used them. After this lesson, I opted for the withdraw (Don’t open your mouth in awe). I found it safer because of views well known to me. Then later i realized i could Abstain (anha! i see you twisting your mouth,see, we all work differently). But well yes i also recall the being faithful part so testing for HIV,STDs and the rest is a must if we must. Condoms too were an option but hmm not much. (I am no devil, am like the rest of you with demons in your closets. And yes i repeat now am better off abstaining.)

Well, when i returned to my hostel room, i wondered why we are not taught this earlier, why some things like contraception are embarrassing to buy at sixteen, why society think you are wasted when you openly pick up condoms from a supermarket? A friend of mine once told me that the teller girl would look at him like “Are you sure you are going to use these or?”. When a teenager gets pregnant even the doctors want to question her. It feels like a bishop saying ‘church isn’t a house for saints and when you get pregnant and not married in church you are shunned ashamed and pushed out of the congregation. Ironic?.

If at puberty all these things are brought to my attention like it was back in the days when our mothers were married off at 16years of age, we would be safe. Although, that generation of our mothers had little knowledge on family planning, teenage mothers were well attended to. The stigma wasn’t as real as it is now. People in society had a heart.(our generation has hearts but the other heart, hmm). In an era where virginity breaks more often than condoms, a lot of unexplained information at display, very busy parents, i think Sex education should be added to the syllabus. Yes, even for the boys, they are actually more ignorant than the girls not because they do not care, but society dictated their ignorance after all the evidence they carry isn’t as visible as for the girls…Boys pay attention. When she is pregnant, she aint alone, you carry with her.

Every pregnant Teenager first thinks “mum is gonna kill me!” Instead of “I need to tell mum”

We fail at understanding them, offering assistance and loving them, Listening to them and maybe if certain things were told earlier just maybe…

Stay Safe.Be Steady!

 

 

Speak Out! #EndTeenPregnancy #Twefugge.

I was raised to fear my Vagina and discussing sexuality openly was a taboo in my community. Besides what school taught me and what i shared with my peers,my curousity was on a discovery spree about how certain things work. Maybe i was  lucky unlike other children i knew in my area that became mothers at a teenage age. Probably its because my mother was strict or my curiosity bore a fear of certain practices. Maybe its because i was raised i sunday school and was afraid of angering God.

Teenage pregnancies and early marriages are what happen in my community on a daily. i Do not want to blame poverty or religion, i would rather blame it on ignorance and negligence. Some of my playmates died trying to abort while many got married (i don’t recall being invited to any Kwanjula or wedding) but the moment they disappeared and i argued its boarding school, i would later meet them worn out and heavily pregnant or carrying a child.

My mother is the woman counselor, so while we discuss i tell her ‘I am glad i found a best friend in you’. We talk about everything and anything and that is because my curiosity didn’t draw me to better people because i was raised amongst so many boys.’ I was not taught or told every thing by my mother, maybe because she was shy but she always pushed me to a friend who didn’t mind answering all my questions. I wondered why most parents didn’t have this relationship with their parents, i wondered why sex was a bedroom discussion, why marriage was only told and taught to those that were getting married! I simply wanted to know everything and i was glad i did earlier. It helped me question my every move. I followed my mother’s footsteps so i engaged in talking to teens. (i love listening to these guys especially if you make it easy for them to open up, you will be amazed by how much they know). Well, i met a Moslem girl during one of the school visits. she was sad she was told it would be her last term in school yet her father had lots of money to sustain them through school. i was perplexed. i asked her if they were many but she said he was the kind of man that married one wife and they were just five children and she was the first. she went further to explain and it was clear that the parents had an idea about family planning so even the child spacing was on point. However, her mother was married off to her dad at a tender age too thou not as tender as hers. she was a bit educated unlike her father. But well, they had got her a man and he had paid her bride price (what is Bride price anyway if you have no reputation?) She wanted to run away from home but was afraid of how she would manage to continue school. She looked grown because she was healthy(read fat) but i believe this all part of the adolescent health, the body changes and growth but this was no reason of having her married off however the father believed she was ready to be a wife and then a mother (again i wonder if its ignorance or negligence. i just wont blame poverty). I helped her find an auntie she could confide in and she is still in school. she might have been lucky but i know many ought there still suffering.

So back to my childhood playmates. One of them, Mumbejja as we fondly called her, suffered a still-birth because when she went into labor she didn’t know she was in labor. And because he parents and siblings judged her she vowed to stay silent through out her pregnancy so she hardly went for antenatal. When she was due she thought she was hurting just and she was found in her room in pain and the neighbors tried to have her deliver from home which failed because she lost the child. After all the Trauma her mother told her to go to her ‘husbands’ house because she would accommodate a ‘grown woman’. She went to her grandma’s house and her grandma helped her start something small to sustain her and take care of her medication.she started frying and selling cassava for breakfast but In the process, she conceived again and has a little girl with whom she stays with at her grandma’s. (she didnt have a clue about contraception when we spoke). Poverty? Ignorance? negligence? sex education?