ID: Concept of Sigmund Freud (1856-1939), founder of psychoanalysis. The id is the unconscious drives and psychic energies of humans as biological organisms. As such, it is untouched by culture and social learning and encompasses all that is primitive, natural and pre-civilized in human passions and energies. Freud seems to have assumed that the human struggle to achieve self consciousness against the ungoverned and unconstrained passions of the id, remained deeply buried in the unconscious minds of all human beings.
So I recently got myself into a conversation about how everyone perceives identity and how it reflects in the way we write. In my head, I see identity as a lot of things. I am sure you have your own perception. And then there’s the Psych half courses that make you examine everything twice and again.
Recently here on this forum, we discussed flash fiction and writing Kenyan romance. So I decided to combine the genre: flash fiction, with the category: Kenyan romance, and the topic: identity, and then try something out for feel. So here goes:
Her mind was not on the big glob of moisture that warned her a Nairobi flash flood was just about to happen, and that the jav fares were going to go up 200%. It wasn’t on the mass of humanity racing towards the railways bus stop. And it was not on the shoe on her foot that was beginning to bite at her little toe either.
Anne’s mind was on her soul mate.
A year ago today, if you’d asked her if there was anyone suitable enough for her in the world, she would have laughed. That’s the reason she’d give at all those family events where older female relatives demanded to know why she was not settled down yet. ‘I don’t want to just get married, I want to get married to the right person.’
And then she met ‘the one’. ‘The one’ was sweet, and kind, and honest, forceful and determined when appropriate, gentle when the occasion demanded it.
She thought about ‘the one’ at the oddest times. Like now.
She had all the classic symptoms, anxiety, nervousness, anticipation…
Tomorrow was the big day. She had to get to Lilian’s house before 7pm. It was going to be a long night. And a longer day tomorrow. Lilian was going to get married to the one man her parents had finally approved of. Anne was going to be there all the way, the maid of honor.
It was going to be a simple wedding, nothing fancy. Lilian had gone against the grain, away from the bridezilla demands for a big massive wedding that would remain on the tongues and minds of people for at least 36 months. She just wanted something simple, for her family and closest friends, to witness her union in holy matrimony to Mark Wayne Wanyonyi.
And Anne would be there, right by the bride’s side, watching her soul mate enter into that holy matrimony
So, tell me, what do you think? Of the genre: flash fiction, the category: Kenyan romance, and the topic: identity – as presented in this piece.
That done, please take a look at this week’s submissions.
Reminiscence Part Two: Girl, I’m a hustler. Only three months ago I was a matatu driver who drove with reckless abandon like a Joginder Singh practicing for a forthcoming East African Classic Rally…
Effie: Later that morning at around half past ten, there were schemes being plotted. Alexandra felt something nudge her by the shoulder.
Motel Ngara: It feels like there are diminutive demons in my head pounding isukuti drums, a bom bom cacophony of beats that go a decibel higher whenever I move my coffin-heavy head.
Please read and vote for all three pieces. Your comments on the writing will be very highly appreciated by the authors so take your time and comment. If you would like your piece to be featured here, please send in your piece by Sunday midnight.
Just a note: Next week is Guest Post Week, so if you would like to share your thoughts on writing, please talk to me asap Juliet@storymojaafrica.co.ke. The contest will not run this week, so the story submissions is open on topic and open open on genre. Keep your word count to 1000 – 1600 words, though.
Have a great week everyone!