Personal writing page. Essays, stories and notes on ordinary life. Some pieces are fiction.
Nairobi
Joined March 2017
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I was 35 minutes late for the most important interview of my career because I stopped to help a stranger outside the very building where I was supposed to be interviewed.
I had spent six months pursuing that job. Three interviews, two assessments and countless emails had finally brought me to the final meeting with the CEO.
The appointment was at 9:00 AM.
At 8:20, I noticed a young woman sitting on the pavement, crying. Her handbag was open, her documents scattered around her and she kept saying she had lost her father's medical file.
I stopped to help her.
What I didn't know was that helping her would put my own future at risk.
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Success that costs you your health, integrity and closest relationships deserves a more careful definition.
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My mother-in-law secretly took a DNA sample from my son.
She wanted proof he wasn't her son's child.
She announced the results at Christmas dinner.
"Zero percent match."
My husband stood up shaking.
I stayed seated and asked one question.
"Whose DNA did you compare him to?"
She said, "My son's, of course. I took his toothbrush."
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At the airport, I picked up the wrong suitcase.
Same colour. Same brand.
At the hotel, I opened it.
Inside was a wedding dress, a ring box and a handwritten note.
"Tonight she becomes mine forever."
The tag had a phone number.
A man answered, panicking.
He was proposing to his girlfriend that night at sunset, in this same hotel.
My suitcase was in his room.
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A scammer called my grandmother.
"Grandma, it's me. I've been arrested. Please send 3,000 dollars."
She said, "Oh no, sweetheart. Where should I send it?"
He gave her an address.
She wrote it down very carefully.
My grandmother was a police detective for thirty-one years.
She kept him on the phone for forty minutes.
She cried. She asked for his "lawyer's" number. She asked which bank.
He gave her everything.
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For two years, I worked for the most attractive man I had ever met.
My boss.
I never crossed the line. Neither did he.
Then he announced he was leaving the company.
On his last day, he asked me to stay late to help pack his office.
We packed in silence.
At 9 p.m., he closed the last box and said,
"I'm not your boss anymore after midnight."
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We don't depend on you loser Manchester United. The fun is now in this beautiful and joyful traditional dance 🤩
It's weekending guys
Enjoy your Saturday 😃
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2027 is in 2 months oh my God, what the fck did I even do with my life this year
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Sorry Ke…. Abeg take your time oooo....don't be in haste. I'm very comfortable like this 😉😂
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I just want to hear breaking news from Old Trafford or "here we go" from @FabrizioRomano 😭
