Posts Tagged ‘Cigarette’

The Shawshank Redemption is undoubtedly the best movie ever produced that details what redemption and self forgiveness is all about

With a heavy sigh, he forces himself to stagger away from the window, where he’s been standing in his boxers for the past thirty minutes, no longer able to bear the sight of the man staring back at him. His eyes are partly bloodshot, his head heavy and his hands are trembling. Taking one last sip from the bottle of vodka firmly in his grip, he places it on the small table beside his bed, gently, before reaching for the pack of cigarettes next to the now empty bottle. With a slight hesitation, he lights up a match, but his trembling hands cause him to burn two of his fingers in the process. He winces. More scars. It doesn’t matter to him; what are two more little scars compared to the millions of scars that blight his life anyway.

He lights up another match and this time, he successfully manages to light up the cigarette already on his lips. He inhales and feels the head rush hit him almost instantaneously, even before he blows out the poisonous smoke. The woman on his bed coughs and stirs up, her gaze now fixed on to the back of his head. Annoyed, he takes two more puffs in rapid succession, almost choking him. He didn’t pay for her services to care a morsel about her; besides, it’s his room. Like most smokers, he resents how the cigarette makes him feel like shitting a ton. He wishes the cigarette, now almost halfway, could make him release all the shit in his life.

The events that led to this night are still fresh on his mind, burning him, scorching his soul and will to go on in the process. His gaze is fixed on his right hand; he wishes he could cut it off. After all, Jesus did say any part of the body that causes you to sin should be cut off. He wishes it were that easy- to cut off the hand that drove a dagger deep into woman’s chest only hours before and forget the whole thing happened. He knows he’d give anything, including his own life to go back in time and warn his past, angry self before the bugger did the heinous act, because like most murderous, he didn’t intend for it to happen that way. He also knows his anger for her cheating didn’t warrant her death… for starters it has only added more misery into his life… but what is done is done. They are probably looking for him now, but he’s made up his mind not to run.

God knows he already misses her; if she were here he’d probably tell her something cheesy to make her laugh, just to see her warm smile one more time… to hear her beautiful voice call out to him telling him to stop making her ribs ache. He knows he’d probably respond with something even dumber. He’d tell her to forgive him for making her tired, because she’s always running through her mind. He still remembers the very first time he saw her. He was having lunch with a friend when she walked into the hotel. Disappointed they didn’t have pork ready at the time, she left. He’d run up to her and told her he wanted a picture of her to show Santa exactly what he wanted for Christmas that year. He bursts into a drunken, hysterical laughter when he remembers the priceless look on her face. For them it had been the proverbial love at first sight; there had been no need for him to walk by again. People had once described them as the perfect couple.

But like everything else on earth with the exception of Herpes, love too fades away. He makes a resolve.

He staggers one more time to his bed, where by now the hooker, whom he can’t remember her name, has already helped herself to a cigarette, but was too occupied with his thoughts to notice it. He takes out another cigarette and hands the remaining pack to her; where he’s going he won’t need them. Then, he pulls out a bunch of notes without bothering to count them and hands them to her. She knows she was lucky this time. To show her gratitude, she tries to pull him back into bed to give him one last fuck. He declines and she starts putting back her clothes- her work here is clearly done.

She follows him out of the door and watches him as he slowly locks up and without as much as a goodbye; both of them take to their different directions- two strangers that will probably never meet again, at least not in this crowded neighbourhood of Ngara. He pictures his destination in his mind. Outside, it’s began raining but he keeps walking straight ahead, willing every muscle of his legs not to let him stagger, knowing he’ll soon reach his destination. The darkness coupled with the rain trickling down into his eyes make it hard for him to see where he’s going, but he soldiers on, unafraid someone might jump him at any instant in these unsafe streets of Nairobi.

At last, he arrives. He looks up at the signpost that reads ‘Nairobi Central Police Station.’ He smiles as he lights the last cigarette he’s ever going to smoke again. He finally knows he can have a chance of redemption by taking the first step of taking responsibility for his actions. He reduces his pace now, taking one step at a time. He knows he may be drunk, but his mind is clear. This is what he wants to do. What he has to do if he’s to live with himself. Finally, he’s at the doorstep and he throws away the remaining cigarette.

He takes his first step inside the building, his gaze firmly at the book on the desk ahead, unconcerned about the curious glances directed at him. Then his phone starts ringing… A new number. He might as well find out whom his last call will be with.

“Hello, is this Alfred?”

“Hello, yes it is… Who’s this?”

“I’m Dr. Kimana calling from the Nairobi Hospital… We want to let you know your wife was brought here today with a stab wound and we performed an emergency procedure. We managed to save her life.. She’s awake now and she’s asking for you….”

He doesn’t bother letting the doctor finish… Alfred drops the phone and crumbles to the floor, tears in his eyes…

Jesse Tyler Ferguson and Eric Stonestreet who act as a gay couple in the popular T.v. comedy 'Modern Family' as Mitchell and Cameron respectively.

Haha, relax. I am not trying to kill myself. But this post is and I am sure so will you after you read it. You see, a few months back, in my usual alcoholic escapades, I met a guy who narrated to me his story. He told me how he had been looking for a job and how when he was about to give up all hope, he finally landed one as a Shamba Boy. It wasn’t a prestigious job per se, but the benefits that supposedly came with it were incredible. The job was simple; tend to the little garden at a guy’s house for Ksh 20,000 per month. If he showed his commitment by staying on the job for at least a year and a half, he would get a car and a house. Not bad for a Shamba Boy, right? Sadly, he quit before he even started the job. In my head, he was a dumb ass; in Kenya getting a job with a tax-free salary and guaranteed job security is a hustle. Then the story got nasty…

He promptly moved to his new employer’s house, which as he learnt, was shared by three men and a lady. It was all fun till it was night; he heard strange noises originating from the bedroom. This he didn’t exactly mind, so people have orgies here, big deal. He didn’t really care; he was there for the money. That was until he woke up in the middle of the night in nothing but his boxers and no recollection of how he wound up in the bedroom, next to his employer. I mentioned his employer was a man, right? And he may or may not have participated in gay sex; his memory was hazy. I nearly died with laughter as he recounted his Steven Spielberg type of escape.

Till I found myself in the Jeevanjee Gardens smoking zone on Wednesday, that story was a figment of my memory. My cigarette was nearly burnt halfway when some dude walked up to me. In my head, I knew he wanted to borrow one; smokers are generous people. I gladly offered him one so he’d leave me alone. He didn’t. Now he was staring at me funny. So I asked,

“Man, what the hell do you want?”

“YOU.”

I laughed. Then I realized he was serious when he started walking closer to me with a sheepish grin on his face. In truth, till then I had no idea I could run that fast- I thanked the fast food I had just had for lunch. I need not tell you that I quit smoking for the third time this year that day.

I have since called it a divine intervention to make me quit smoking for good; the only logical way I can really explain it is that God works in strange, mysterious ways. Like how he guided the Jews under Moses in the desert for 40 years only to bring them to the one part of Asia that has no oil. You see, I am homophobic and I bet God knows since He is Omniscient. I am not proud of it because I know it isn’t their fault. 75% of them don’t choose to be gay; only 25% of them are SUCKED into it. Most of them are born that way. And that is the reason I wrote this post. And since I know how controversial this post is going to be, I have decided to walk a mile in your shoes first before I criticize anyone. That way, if any one of you retaliates, I am a mile away and yes, I have your shoes.

I’m sure you remember Prison Break. In my opinion, it was one of the best jail breaks of all time after the one in the Shawshank Redemption. True, it had an unrealistic story, but it was brilliant. My love for it was so great that I loathed the directors of Prison Break for not making the main character, Michael Scofield, gay. I am sure he wouldn’t have been that enthusiastic to run away from Fox River State Penitentiary if the stories they tell of prison are anything to go by. The only way to punish a gay man is by sending him to a female prison. In short, it would have allowed the show to last a couple more seasons longer.

Wednesday’s events got me to reconsider. Prison Break with a gay Michael Scofield wouldn’t have worked. I wouldn’t even have watched it to start with. I am biased towards gay people, as are most of you I am sure. And for no particular reason mind you. According to the Bible, God once burnt down an entire city because most of its occupants were gay, which gave us the word sodomy. My question being, how many of you have been sodomized to start with or do you just make gay jokes for the fun of it? How many people have valid reasons to loathe gay people? As I mentioned before, most of the time, a genetic or a hormonal imbalance produces gay symptoms. You don’t just wake up and decide a man’s butt looks edible.

Gay people are human too. But I suppose it wouldn’t mean much to you if you haven’t seen how much suffering most of them go through; don’t start making jokes like “if sex is a pain in the ass then you’re doing it wrong”. This is a serious matter. A friend of a friend committed suicide after it was discovered he was gay. I don’t know how many more have to die before we accept the fact that like whatever the genre of music Souljah Boy invented, some things are here to stay. Call it what you want, it is the truth. Jimmie Gait, Justin Beiber and the age of Skinny Jeans tucked into Pink Supras are evidence enough. In fact, all sweet, nice and handsome men are already taken. By their boyfriends…

I am not saying that people should be gay; all I am saying is that it makes sense to be accommodative of them because they are here to stay. Hell, they even make good Army Generals; even in war, they just can’t leave their friends behind. My pastor always said, “Jesus loves you no matter who you are” and I agree with him. However, be cautious WHERE you are told that “Jesus loves you”. Apparently in Mexican and Spanish prisons, if a person tells you, “Jesus loves you!” my friend, please be afraid. Be very afraid. Anyway, now I am off to find a noose to hang myself with as I am pretty sure this post has definitely done the same thing to my budding career as a writer.