Baraka.

Chapter 2.

I have not seen her for the past one week.
I have been so busy that I have not even texted her.
"You were to busy to text your lady?" My inside voice riducules me.
"Shut up." I say.
"Hey love. See you in ten minutes at Bustani." I text her. Bustani is a garden located at the outskirts of the small town, Tumaini. It is a very magical place and a stream passes by. That is where we usually hang out. Not many people go there. It is like our own little place. Ten minutes later she still has not replied. It really annoys me when she takes long to reply. Could she be angry I had not checked up on her for the past one week? No. I am sure she understands I would not do it on purpose. I love her too much.
"Hey Baraka. I was doing laundry." She finally texts back after what has seemed to be a very long time.
"Omw." She sends another text.
"Wow Baraka. You really need to stop being paranoid." I say to myself.
I quickly inform Dhahabu, the nanny I will be gone for a while. Ever since my mom felt sick a while ago, she sought for a househelp so she could rest.

Malika and I have been friends since our primary school days. We were very close. We were each other's confidants. Her parents did not like me at first. I do not know why nobody ever likes me at the first encounter until they really get to know me. Perhaps it is because of my resting bitch face. I eventually won them over. Malika's father, Mr. Andrew works as a manager at the local bank while her mom, Mrs. Andrew is a teacher at Fanaka primary school. They are very conservative and staunch christians. Well so are my parents but I am not.

When I reach at Bustani, Malika has not yet arrived. I sit by the shore of the nearby stream waiting for her. In the midst of the breeze and the water flowing, I wander off day dreaming. I need to convince my father that being a writer, an actor or a poet does not equate to failure. I really love art. I want to be a story teller. Storytelling has always fascinated me. My grandfather the late, may his soul rest in peace, always narrated to me stories during his youthful days and how he was drafted in the war. I want to tell stories too. I have watched a lot of movies too and the process is something I really admire. How one conceptualizes an idea, writes it down, then brings a community of people to bring his or her stories to fruition through the screens or cinema is really amazing.

I get startled up when Malika wraps her arms around my neck and embraces me from behind.

"How are you feeling Baraka?"

Heavens she always know the right question to ask. I really love her. Her scent really drives me insane. I honestly do not know how describe it. There is something about that makes me want to hug her forever. I stare at her shiny oily pretty dark face.Her kinky afro hair applied with vaseline shines from the sun rays.Breeze blowing her red yellow print dashiki showing off her lower thighs and sexy legs.
"Baraka."

"You are beautiful." That is all I could mutter.

She smiles from her eyes. Dimples from her flushed chubby cheeks showing off.
"Are you okay" She asks.

"I am now. I have missed you Malika."

"It has only been a week."

" One week without seeing you my angel."

"Okay! Okay! I missed you Baraka. Enough with the flirter. I have observed you for a while. Tell me what is nagging you."

"Oh Malika. Mzee is proving to be a hindrance to my dreams of becoming a storyteller."

"A what now?"

"Yes I told him I want to be a writer, a poet and an actor but he would have none of it. He wants me to be a lawyer or a doctor."

"I agree with him."

"What?" I cannot believe the person I was expecting to have my back is siding with my father. "I mean why?"

"Baraka I am going to be honest with you. If there is going to be a future for us you have to have a stable job and the only way that is happening is if you do as your father says."

"I cannot believe you just said that. Does my happiness not count? What about what I want? What I am passionate about?"

"Baraka you watch and read a lot of fiction. Reality check. We are not in Hollywood. The industry here is not developed as there. Besides, there is no guarantee of success in your endeavors."

"You are crushing me Malika. Please do not kill my dreams."

"I am sorry baby." She moves closer to me and lays her head to my shoulder and wraps her arms around me.
"I did not mean to be harsh. I just want to be real with you. I love you and I want the best for us."

"We are joining our senior year in a week's time and we need to focus so that we can excel and hopefully join university and pursue great course." She adds.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yes I am Malika."

"Well my mom wants me to pursue medicine. Wouldn't it be lovely if we did the same major?"

"Can we change the subject love. You are not the woman I fell in love with right now."
She flinches a little bit then huffs
"Fine. So how did you spend your Christmas?"

"Huh!"

"Do not tell me you forgot Christmas was five days ago?"

"Oh really?" I must be suffering from partial amnesia. Snap! I remember. That is why I had not talked to Malika. She told me she and her family were going to Kwale for the festivities and I did not want to bother her.

"Please stop pulling my legs. Hello. That is why we have not been meeting. I went to Kwale with my mom."

"You wish I was pulling your legs. Apart perhaps."

"You are such a pervert Baraka. Is that all you heard me saying?"

I lean in and kiss her on the lips. She reciprocates the gesture.
I lay on the grass and pull her to my chest.

"If you must know Christmas was boring. We just slaughtered a few sheep and shared it with the community. My mom prepared the delicacies; Biryani, pilau, fries, chapatis and other dishes. Some neighbors came to and we shared the meal. We did not go out."

"I bet you on the other hand my nubian princess had so much fun by the ocean."

"I guess so."

"What is that supposed to mean?"
She raises her head from my chest and looks me in the eye. Her milky teary eyes looks deep into mine.

"I had missed you so much." She whispers.

"I could not quite hear you over the breeze. Repeat that."

"I love you Baraka." She yells.

"Shh! Crazy woman. I did not say you should shout. You will draw a people's attention if there are any around."

"I do not care. I love yo..." I quickly turn her over and I lay on top of her.She lays on the pitch green grass looking at me her breathing a little bit heavy. He kinky hair paints the grass dark like coal on canvas.
I gently kiss her on the cheek.

"I love you Malika."

*******
"It is getting late Malika. We need to go."
I tell her. The sun is almost settting at the horizon.
She gets up from the grass.
"Okay let us go before my parents start worrying where I am."

We hold each others hands as we walk down the stream out of Bustani.

"May I say how lovely you look in that dashiki."

"Thank you. You have already told me that for tenth time."

"We will meet up before we resume back to school right."

"But of course darling."

"But of course darling. Teens." I huff.

"You do know we are age mates, right?"

I look at her and we both laugh.
Being a gentleman that I am, I escort her near her home, hug her, kiss her on the cheek and bid her goodbye and quickly rush home before my parents to wonder why I am taking so long to get back.