I honestly think God is kidding me at times. Like how on earth does He create all this enjoyment and tell me not to go? And funny enough, I still not go.
Maybe I’m naive. I am naive because I have to put up with waking up a girl leaving for a bar in the middle of a cold night; with an Uber that was paid by the guy who recently bought her iPhoneX!
I am naive because I do not relate when she narrates how she had a good time sucking it, the way he caressed her clitoris to the nerve, the way he poured into her at the corner of the club. Like I am not even supposed to shake hands with any boy.
I am naive because I still fear receiving airtime from men I completely understand that can’t and don’t even plan to be my husband, or ask for money claiming I need to ghost abort. “..baby I have a cold, and the doctor said I need an inhaler(250,000) the German product!” Like I can’t even.
I am naive because the memories to what life is, is vague and ambiguous to me. What will I tell my kids, I wonder? As a practicing young Muslim woman, I can’t help but feel life passing by me.
I am naive, Casablanca first stroke me as a serie; asking them which season they were at now. How diamond rocked the independence week and only got to see the highlights on the Hall TV.
I am naive. I don’t have a boyfriend; okay let’s call him sugar daddy. Like how do I survive? With upkeep from a parents salary only and keep the same cloth from first year. Waking up to battery full messages than a sweet nothing. How Maher Zain becomes your Mr Eazy!
I am still naive, how I plait hair and still cover it! How they claim probably I have a bald head! How that maybe I have an opening to my ear drums and not the pinna! How it makes you old and cover up the melanin, like, “hajat kiki…wekola ebyekidadde?”
I am naive, I am a Muslim.
Does He have a reason to why He barred me to all this joy? The reason had better be a fat, pregnant one!