It was 8 months ago when I got you. Waking up, and accompanied by my sister, making my way to Maasai Market. The hot sun almost making me faint ,twice, but being the strong child of the universe that I am, I braved myself.
We listlessly passed some stalls selling Key holders but no piece caught my eye. Yeah, I know they have very similar items but just like twins, you may like one more than the other. We came to this curious little stall tucked in between a ‘Welcome to Africa’ shirt vendor, and a Kenyan art dealer, where you lay all so patiently next to some Maasai key holders. The Maasai key holders were nice and colorful, but they kind of looked like witchcraft paraphernalia, no offense. I am a Kamba and I prefer myself in modern clothes rather than white bed sheet clinging on dear life on a stake so I chose to take you.
The one cream band and two brown bands sat on top of each other in an alternating order like they were meant to be. I paid my 100 shillings for you and carried you home with a lunatic smile plastered across my face. You were a ‘steal’. You were shiny, vibrant and full of life. The way you had been curved would make other key holders full with envy. You were mine, only mine.
Your death was very slow and painful. How I wish I could have just put you somewhere in a nice box when your misery began. I first noticed your suffering when I came home one evening to find one of your brown-colored pieces missing. I did my sleuthing and found out that my uncle had been using it. When asked, he said that the piece had just fallen off. I didn’t believe that story, dear key holder.
The second time, my little brother decided to turn you into an airplane. When you got to me, you had left another of your cream-colored bands on the cold hard floor, mutilated. Accident or not, my heart died a little for you.
Early this week you decided that you had had enough and would therefore let go of your last piece. It came off in my hands and I wept for that last piece. The piece that gave me hope for a long future ahead with you.
The saddest part about your life with me is that I did not take photos of our hurried walks along the streets of Nairobi, The sleep overs we had at our relatives’ nor the events we attended together, but you will still remain a very important part of my life. Until you meet me again with superglue in hand have a lovely rest.