I enjoy listening to Jazz, mostly the vocals, the best of Bessie Smith or the instrumentals in Jimmy forest that’s all with anxiety and a pill to pop in the big city of Nairobi.
However, Nairobi is not all jazzy. The fact that, you will never bargain the fare prices during rush hours to teens being caught having orgies to the government stealing in broad daylight evidently shows the other side of the city.
I had an opportunity to have coffee with one of the most
barbaric human being I know. A liberal, light skin, feminist and the description
can go on and on. “We have to accept who we are and many of us are struggling with that,
let alone loving our enemies.”
She described Nairobi as a tale, that the government is
building bridges no one asked for, the country can't pay doctors but they have
money to send us back to the polls. The rich are taking advantage of the poor
and the poor cannot relate. Relationships are judged on Twitter for viewership
and societal status and love... love at first sight is just lust in
disguise."
Dear Friends,
I hope this finds you well and safe. I recently moved to Palm
Springs, California, the city of angels, after spending my childhood in
Nairobi, Kenya.
I was brought up in one lavish estate in Muthaiga, if you
live in Nairobi, you definitely know Muthaiga. Developed a hobby in travelling
and interior design. I developed a
weird interest in people’s houses everywhere I went. I traveled a lot, the
summer of 2012; I went to Iceland the steamy Blue Lagoon and the gorgeous
Northern Lights, the Aurora Borealis. That was until I joined the university
back then in 2013, my first priority was schoolwork and at that time, my
parents were in London.
For the first two years of school, I really had to work hard
since a degree in architecture was not a cup of tea despite the fact that I had
no other option. In 2018, I relied on anti-depressants because I knew I had to
wake up every morning with a smile on my face. One thing about the city is that
everyone is going through something, so if you are waiting for help, most
probably you will not get it.
In Africa, mental health is regarded as a taboo. No one
really talks about it and when we do, we rebuke it. Depression is just as real
as having cancer and if not taken seriously, then nothing is ever going to be
right.
I met Joan when we were about to finish our degree in 2018.
Joan was a bit off, eccentric one can say. She only listened to classical
music, played the cello and never talked that much. What I loved about her, was
the passion she had, her kindness and that sarcastic smirk.
At the tail end of the year 2018, we went to wasp and sprout,
off to Loresho; they were doing a “special
Thursday event”. It was a fusion of Jazz, classical and spoken word art. During
the event, we met Tony. We went to school with him, a psychology major who had
his eyes on Joan. Throughout the event, I was the third wheel, while tony was
shooting his shot. It was not the first time Tony had approached her; actually,
he was stalking her, the right kind of stalking…
For once, Joan did not have that sarcastic smile and for a moment,
I realized that she had let her hair down and I think I was attracted to her
too. She grew fond of Tony and you could see the chemistry between them as
clear as day. As the night grew darker and lovely, our little girl Jojo, sedated
on love and every time Tony called out her name in his deep, smoky voice, she
would blush.
She was hooked up on Tony, a stout looking guy, with curly
hair and one thing for sure is that he had a firm grip. I was proud of Jojo,
she was happy and again, she was human. She tried new stuffs, got involved in
new experiences and always had a smile on her face.
Unfortunately, 2019 august Jojo’s dad died. Committed
suicide and word was out that he was struggling with Post Traumatic Syndrome
Disorder (PTSD). I really didn’t get to know her father quite well, but he
served in the army and was retired. Jojo really loved her dad and after he
retired, Jojo spent most of her time with him.
During the funeral, Jojo felt alone. I had traveled to the
US because I was thinking of relocating from Kenya. To make matters a bit
worse, Tony was in Uganda for a whole three months and their relationship was
in a muddle. The whole dynamic changed. Jojo stopped playing the cello, Jojo
was sad, Jojo was depressed.
When I was back, Jojo picked me up from the airport and she
looked dismayed and bruised. Her eyes seemed like she did not sleep the
previous night and metaphorically speaking, she was so cold with her words.
“….. it’s like there’s distance between me and the world. You cannot
see any tangible future,” With a lot of distress, she sighed.
“Every
day feels like the worst day of my life, with everything that is happening
right now…”
And before she would finish, I rushed to the driver’s sit,
surely, you would not like someone saying those words driving you through
Mombasa road to Karen. It was purely by grace that she drove through to the
airport.
To cut the long story short, 2020 happened. I graduated,
moved on to Palm Springs and I was hoping Jojo would join. Covid was too much
to handle and Jojo was all alone in her apartment during the pandemic.
Something changed; she became too crapulous that affected her during the
pandemic. This really affected the relationship I had with her.
August 2020, a year after her dad passed, I got the news
that Joan Karemi had passed away. Suicide, she was lying dead in the bath tab,
immersed in her blood with slit wrists. Now am just holding on;
It’s been 3 months since you were gone
And I can’t stop thinking of you.
I can’t look back & tell you to wait,
Yesterday I cried my tear duct out
And most of the time I stare at the sky waiting for you
Sometimes I hope that when the sun rises, you will rise too.
R.I.P Jojo 💔😔
In
truce;
Lynn
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