The fabric that weaves our society together for hundreds of years has been pulled tight,the seams loosening and changing color.
Alighting from my usual matatu after a short uncomfortable ride that can only be described as the battle of cheap perfumes and natural odors accousting my nostrils ,i find myself alone in the real world.Every face is buried deep in small lit screens as fingers jot and slide all over the small mirrors, adding;tagging;liking;commenting and yes judging.I have wondered since that moment of absolute clarity if this is all we are becoming,Avatars of ourselves.
our minds have been overloaded with information we don’t need,i thought the world becoming a village would mean that we all got enlightened by the knowledge we would share but damn if i ain’t wrong,i am a fellow victim by the way,i am not absolved of this sin against my self.Ever so willingly i would make sure i keep up with the “queens of twerk world”on Instagram(and yes it is not porn,hell i could go as fare as to call it a talent);The ever changing topics on facebook;the conversations on watsapp(that never happen in real life and yes the videos on you tube.These new waters of adult hood where we make avatars that show every best part of ourselves(whether real or fictional) have guaranteed the end of all physical interactions purely for growth,as “fyebooty”would say on her short videos,”there will always be more coming” or was it cumming,i can’t be sure.
Before i digress into self gratifying explanations i must finish the morning Epiphany that was.My breath was a bit “fumey”thanks to my whiskey ways,the slight hangover warning me of the anguish to come with the raising sun,i check my phone,maybe someone liked my wacky controversial memes about religion or marriage or something,scrolling down my page i see the avatars of people i used to know,everyone always so together and dashing,either on vacation or predicting the interracial babies they would have in the near future and then the always tacky Jesus memes that can bring cash and all the treasures of the land if you just click on the tiny like button,it always feels like another profession of undying love for the super beautiful Caucasian young man with slightly dialed up gay vibes from his cherry red lips and loose fitted gown,i mean if you want sheep to believe the sacrifice he made don’t make him look like the lead singer of one direction!.
The morning breeze and a sharp hoot from a on coming motorbike steer me clear from the road as i head towards my prison of choice,staring at my phone as it beeps and chimes messages coming in from groups of people talking about the never ending conversations that surprisingly never happen in real life i feel a lump build in my throat,slowly redirecting the whiskey fumes that try to escape the pit of my belly,
“fucking Monday…”i mutter to myself a bit too loudly.The human in front of me turns to look at the suffering wailing pedestrian.My eavesdropper friend is carrying digging tools,his shoes retired a few months ago but i guess he never got the memo. The tattered dirty garments that hide his shame dance in the breeze exposing a slightly discolored armpit and of course the stench that resides beneath.My once over is interrupted by his gleaming smile,his brisk walk makes it that i have to walk faster to stay beside him as i marvel at his gift of pure joy.He hums a tune i have never head before before looking at me again only this time he also notices my avatar machine as i try to keep up with the conversations on watsapp or fye’s always moving butt on Instagram,
“buda aje aje”He swings his spade a bit,as if making sure his morning greetings hit home
“sasa hizo simu zenyu hamuwekagi chini”i think its rhetorical until he moves right into my personal space and smack in the middle of fye’s famous slow twerk.
“Kumbe ni porno”His smile turns into a concentrated scowl as he tries to make sense of what he is looking at.
“sio porno buda”i try to educate and shake him off.
“ebu nione,si ako uchi huyo msichana?
“huoni amevaa nguo…hiyo hapo juu”regretting my explanation of the technicalities that come with thongs and g-strings right after they leave my fire hazard mouth
“hako si kameraruka?He refuses to let go as we walk closer together.
My new found friend;the hooting cars;his strong scent and my now throbbing head move in tandem with my conflicted ideologies.I look at his face,all in awe of this morning’s gift of politically correct exotic dancing and realize for the millionth time how much bliss ignorance can be.My new friend pokes at my phone as if tying to get more,more…yup that’s how it starts for all of us.This disposition that is the human condition always wanting more,we can never be satisfied,the monster has to be fed.As we hide behind our online avatars and try to feed our always hungry monsters we forget how to smile.I forget how to smile.