NyamoloDiaries

My heart started racing! Marlon called me here. He seemed to have stalked me enough to know everything about me. Everything I liked, he knew me just like Kings. Or maybe even more? This is what Jammie meant when he said, "I wonder how he'd react when he saw you"? I was more than dumbfounded. "Ma..Marl..Marlon!?, What's this?" I asked in a trembling voice. I didn't know why I was so scared to see him, I guess it's because of our last encounter when he had tried to kiss me in his room long ago. "You don't seem happy to see me, you look scared love. " He said in a deep voice; his accent had changed. "I... I think I need to go Marlon. This is crazy! I'm so confused, what's even going on?" He stepped back, ushered me to a chair in the room. "Sit Phy, let's talk. You and Jammie are the only people I could talk to. " I went and sat; he sat across me. "I came back Phy, came back stronger" he rested his ...

Jammie's time to go back abroad had finally come. There was a celebration at my mother-in-law for Jammie's goodbye. I had avoided her ever since the difference we had but this time I had no choice. I had to be there. I woke up feeling dizzy, took a shower and started fumbling through the wardrobes looking for something I'd wear today to Jammie's send off to the US party. " Looking for something to wear? I brought you something," Kings told me smiling as he pointed to the clothes on the bed. "Thank you, you're the best. " I smiled and kissed him; he went back to prepare breakfast. His clothes were over mine; I moved them, it was a blue thong on top and light blue floral short dress that was bare at the back. I gasped! It was the same as the dress I had worn last time! The last time I saw his stepbrother, Malon!  Kings mother never liked Malon because his mother had taken away the love Kings father had for her. She took all her frustrations on him ...

At 27 years and married to this handsome, tall well-built dark African man called Kings. We've been married for two years now. He gave me a three-year ultimatum before I could make up my mind to have a kid.  Last month his mother and I had a very big difference. We were at her house for dinner. She calls us every Saturday of the beginning of the month for a little celebration and appreciation for life. A tradition that really makes sense. She had prepared several Kenyan dishes from chicken, fish, sour milk and even mokimo. She normally calls her friends and some few neighbors who can keep up with her strict rules. She doesn't let anyone in her house with shoes on, you have to speak after you've swallowed your food, you can't serve several types of food at once in your dish, you have to eat one type of meal at a time. For the past years, she was good to me and was never strict with me. She believed I was raised differently and without manners. I guess she had to be nice ...