Don’t Bang The Door

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Dear Reader,

Yesterday I woke up at 4 am and later dropped Tamms off to school. Then I came back home at 8 am and did something that was completely out of my character; I got back in bed and managed to sleep! 

I wasn’t born with the talent of taking naps. I could never take afternoon naps, no matter how dark the room is and how long I pretend I’m dead. I struggle with it. But I slept, four hours after waking up!

I went in so deep that I had embarrassing dreams that I can’t write about here because I have children who can read English. I woke up two hours later, disoriented, and displaced. And I still had sleep in me. I could feel it, curling inside like cigarette smoke in a dead room. I lay there thinking, where am I? Who am I? What the hell is going on? I couldn’t move. I lay on my back and listened to the gurgling stream that runs next to my apartment over the voices of the security guards next compound talking loudly in Luhya. I felt lazy and immobile. I felt like I had developed roots and I was growing in bed. 

Eventually, after summoning a great deal of willpower, I stumbled out of bed and sat in the loo for another two minutes trying to read unsuccessfully. As I stumbled towards the kitchen a snarky voice said from the dining room, “Well, hello sunshine!” and laughed sarcastically. I ignored it. I made hibiscus tea with cloves, and lemon and added black maca and some sea moss, then I took it back to the bedroom and set it by the bedside table to catch my breath. I was still feeling drowsy. A little voice said, “It’s OK, Jackson, put your head on the pillow. It’s OK to be a baby.” So I said, OK, maybe for a little while. But just a little while. So I did that. And I started feeling really sleepy. Then I nodded off for 15 minutes. When I woke up it was still grey outside. I could hear the squeaking caws of what sounded like crows. How can God give an ostrich such animated feathers and then give a crow a caw? But then again, have you seen the nail on some people’s little fingers? It looks like a blood clot. 

I propped myself on the headboard and stared out the window. I entertained foolish, ridiculous thoughts: is this how men who come from war feel? If you boil lemon in water, won’t all the Vitamin C die? Why does an Apple watch think you are washing your hands when changing a tyre? Then I remembered some guy I had interviewed a long time ago who had a baby with his new wife. Maybe I should text him, and see how he is doing.

He said he was thinking about texting me. (Right, I said.) He’s turning 50 in a few months but he hasn’t “processed it” because so much is happening in his life. It’s been a tough year, he told me. He had moved jobs, and the new job sucked pipe. “They made promises they haven’t delivered. So I will have to move again.” He also broke up with his mama momma and was about to start dating a much younger girl that he liked. Sort of. “She seems nice but it’s early days. I will give it two months,  you know that’s when their true colours start coming out.” The hawks screeched outside. I sipped my tea and then took a long hot shower and tried to write. I couldn’t. My brain felt heavy. Each time I moved I felt it move in the opposite direction. I drove to a hardware store in Karen shopping center to shop for gumboots and a rake for the village. 

I was immediately distracted and I stood before a wall of colourful tools. I could stare at tools the whole day: hammers, cordless drills (I love cordless drills), all manner of screwdrivers with handles in all colours, sanders, clamps, and pliers. I admired them all. I’m not the DIY kind of guy. I won’t attempt to replay a broken sink or iron box. That’s not my job. But I love and appreciate a good-looking tool. As I stood there a hand tapped me lightly on the shoulder. A friend of mine was standing there in a green dress and matching shoes. She said, “Are you looking to buy some tools? I didn’t take you for a handy kind of guy.” 

I said, “I’m not. I just love tools.”

“What do you love about them?” I could tell she was yanking my chains. 

“They do things,” I said. 

“That they do.” She nodded at the logic. 

“I love hammers,” I said. “Everybody needs a good hammer.”

She laughed. 

“Don’t act like you have never looked at a hammer and thought, maybe I should buy that hammer.”

“No,” She laughed. “That has never happened to me.”

She was wasting my time. I was not going to stand there engaging someone who has no appreciation for a good hammer. I moved over to a different shelf and bought a pair of heavy-duty gumboots and a strong rake that can scratch all the guilt from your conscience.

At about 7 pm – two hours earlier than my bedtime – I had started thinking about sleeping.  And when I finally slept, I dreamt of Ryan Gosling. He was trying to reverse his car outside my apartment and a tree was in the way. I had never seen that tree before. When I woke up this morning I was still quite tired. 

I think I’m fatigued. 

I have no taste for anything. I just want to laze in bed and read a book and listen to crows. So I’m going to take a two-week break here to recharge. Dream new dreams. Get some exercise in. Water my plants. Drink one whisky.  

In the meantime, I will be able to sign books so grab a copy HERE.

Talk soon. I’m going to  bed. 

Please, don’t bang doors. 

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36 Comments
  1. But then again, have you seen the nail on some people’s little fingers? It looks like a blood clot. Have a restful break

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  2. I thought I was the only one who experienced fatigue after breaking a routine with a few minutes of sleep. Waking at 5 am having a few hours of self-care and returning to sleep is disastrous.
    In the meantime rest Biko.

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  3. strong rake that can scratch all the guilt from your conscience.
    Enjoy the break!.we all need this rake though!

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  4. Those random afternoon naps slappp! sheshh! You have been missing out.

    Go recharge brother! season break!

  5. We won’t bang doors but we will set foot on your doormat and when you’re well rested, we will welcome you back with a handshake

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  6. Hope you write till you are grey like Yusuf Dawood. Your writing is also changing with time. Also change ‘Lady’ and ‘The snarky voice ‘ to major characters, on a light note, though.

  7. What’s wonderful and story… I can relate to having… embarrassing dreams’.. Was busy jana waking up to such a story fatigue and change of routine that I can relate with… Enjoy your break from writing come back rejuvenated and energetic.

  8. I finally received my ‘Let Me Call You Back’ with a signed promise. Soon, I’ll remind you of it, favourite Author

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  9. Heavy on the: “They made promises they haven’t delivered. So I will have to move again.”

    I totally relate

  10. I now get why someone at Linkedin was saying that good advertisers are old people. why i habe read you from 2015. still here. still thrilled. Still like how you creatively write up something like this ok taking a break.

    todays copywriters are something else

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  11. I am very disappointed at the way things are run by Bikozulu kwa platform yake ya Market. I bought and paid for all the Three Books And Shipping Costs after Saving na ku tighten belt. Been now Close to Three Weeks na Books zii . Since Biko has been Aggressively Marketing For His Books To be Bought i Thought hii Hitch should have been resolved kale. I adore Choco man and i do Appreciate Him and His Blog. But Me wants My Books if Not A Refund should be in Order. I share alot with Him Most Famous one being am also a Member Of the Forehead Association. Yawa Chocolate Man i understand uko on a very earned Break. But do something about the Delivery of My Books ama A Refund. Ni Hayo Tu Shukran

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  12. You went so hard on baptising the little finger a “blood clot”. Yes it is true we are victims, but, that was quite personal.

    That girl should try out a few hammers, it would help her in sticking to one.

    Great read.

      1. Thought atleast this Tuesday ange bang our doors coz he wanted to rest for kitu two weeks. Pumzika poa my fellow member wa Foreheads Association. Replenish stock urudi utuhabarishe kama kawaida.

  13. Hello Biko, Hello. Knock Knock…… Two weeks are over, or what counting criteria did you use? Are you there? Eddy? Gloria? Or even Kim? Who is the current grass guy? Is Biko there, in the village, obsessing over a single blade of grass?