Written by Henry Kamundi
I threw a side glance to her as she walked. What a figure! Tall, tender and slender. Feelings of a hungry hunter were instantly excited in me. My glance turned into a gaze. I walked close behind her…feeding my eyes with this walking beauty. My nostrils were gluttonous to consume her sweet scented perfume that smelt like something really edible. First to see were her soft, African light-skinned thighs that emerged under her floral short skirt. The pale green spaghetti tight top which she wore, nicely matched with her high heeled open shoes. Those high heeled shoes made her bottoms push out backwards excitingly. I was tempted.
Colored bangles almost filled her both arms and matched with the shoes. The beaded necklace suited her that at first I thought she wore a colored tattoo around the neck. She had a number of rings on her fingers and a pin on the nose. The nails were vanished to match with the prints on the skirt. A real accomplished masterpiece beauty. I had real temptation to shake hand with her. But I did not have guts. How could I begin? She was a stranger.
I raised my eyes to see the face. I confirmed that I did not know her. Nonetheless, her look sparked in me unexplainable things. It is like my blood was boiling. At one point I even thought I was staggering. But I went on to feed the eyes. Her dimpled cheeks were so bewitching. Then there were the cherry-red lips which were really inviting. Sweet, soft, smile, seemed stuck permanently on her face. This sent me to the skies. I wondered whether she saw me. She walked as if I never existed on that road. How I wished her eyes met mine at least once.
The way she moved her bottoms in the air… with hips gyrations that tantalize men; twirls that would quickly send a man’s hand deep into his pants. Yes, she would drive any man’s saliva glands loose. As she walked, her short wide skirt swung like she was dancing salsa. I was totally carried away…to the blue skies. And her black natural hair that was tied to form a porn tail at the back painted a picture of a horse in my mind. I thought her to be a horse that had rode me to the skies.
She walked and I followed foolishly like I was her shadow. I am not a slow walker. But I had to adjust to her pace. How could I walk fast and leave behind all this? I wished we talked. Her ‘door’ was locked. But it is me who had not knocked. I thought it was good to give it a try. But I had no courage. I breathed hard. No oxygen seemed to have been in the surrounding. I gasped for more breath. I often caught myself plucking tender leaves from the lantana camara bushes along the path as I walked. Upon plucking, I would juggle it on my palms unconsciously, drop it and pluck another one. I felt hot and sweaty. I ran my hand over my face. It was wet. My armpits were welling up like twin springs. I felt like a person who wanted to step into a river of unknown depth.
As she swaggered, my mind was swayed and fuddled…I knew what I wanted but I did not know how to achieve the goal. I just wanted to greet her. Shake her hand and just look at her into the face, into the eyes. Just that and I would be contented. How I wished to hear her voice. I could easily guess that she had a soft voice or may be nicely husky. Such girls cannot match to a rough baritone or bass. It would be injustice done to them by their creator, so I thought.
She clung to her clutch bag as if all her life depended on it. You would think the oxygen she breathed was reserved in it. Then I realized that the big round green earrings on her ears not only matched with the clutch bag but also the hair clip that peered from the porn tail. As I marveled this African beauty, I wondered where she could have come from. No doubt she did not belong to our village. I knew every so and so’s grown up daughter by name or at least facially. But this one, I thought, must be a visitor here…may be from the city.
A thought of the city left my blood almost frozen. Girls from the city are tough and unapproachable, I thought. But for such a girl to be in the village means she is ok with life of the village and the people who live there. My blood was excited afresh. Now I could smell chocolate. Oh I love chocolate! It is the thing I like eating most. This chocolate…and I was not hallucinating. Then I figured out. There were coffee bushes on the right side of the road which had beautiful fully-blown white flowers that scented the air strongly. The combination of the scent from coffee flowers with her perfume produced chocolate smell. This chocolate…my saliva glands went loose.
Now there was no turning back. I found myself advancing towards her. The distance between us was now very small. It is then that she looked at me and quickly looked away. I felt short of oxygen again. I breathed deep. Trying to smile, I extended my right hand to her while courteously saying “Hi madam”. Quite! Then I repeated the same words thinking that she had not heard or seen my hand. She still remained quite. My repetition of the same greeting sounded to myself like a chorus of a boring song. I decided to change the tune. “How are you beautiful lady?” I said confidently wishing that she would respond.
She turned down my stretched hand and my uttered greetings. Instead, she twisted her lips as if to express disgust at my demeanor. She quickly rushed her eyes from my feet to the head and clicked her tongue. The click of her tongue sounded like an expressed full stop to the journey that had began about twenty minutes back. It is then I realized that I had passed the barbershop where I was going to shave my hair and trim my beard. I thought so foolish of myself. So I turned and walked back loathing. My hand was in the pocket and my eyes downcast almost seeing nothing.
I wondered why such a beautiful lady behaved like that. Could it be because of my long, shaggy hair and my bushy beard? My armpits started to well up again. The weather seemed so hot for me. This was despite the clouds that now covered the sky. It looked like it would rain any time. I wondered what would happen to her beautiful hair if rains started to pour. Would those sharp heeled shoes make it in the mud? And the red lipstick? I do not know why I had so many imaginations about her being rained on. I blushed away these thoughts. And as I walked something bitter stuck in my throat. My mouth was dry; I had no saliva to push the bitter reality down the tract.
©Henry Kamundi 2011