I think love and life have a weird way of fighting for attention in our lives that we almost end up missing on one of the other depending on what our preferences become. I still missed Amina but I was also disgracing her memory by making someone close to her crazy with passion for me. I tasted forbidden love and the sweetness was the hardest thing I have had to surrender in my life.
I went away to a distant relative in Kenya actually in the western region of the Country. Its beauty had drawn me closer with hope I would forget my past and at least try to be normal. Well, the thing with that is normal is relative to paranormal and no matter how we try to run from reality we can never escape our true selves. The heart wont let us be and love no matter how wrong always wins.
I locked myself indoors most of the time in this obscure flat down Amagoro town centre. The idea was to be foreign and lie low for whatever reason I needed cleansing for my sweet sins which kept me jovial all night. I wish I could take back the days where evil was justified, hidden but so sweet that I felt I was being unfair to me and my partner.
We would take turns in igniting each others emotions and the kisses were like angel dust. I literally felt like in those eyes I would surrender my unconditional love for eternity. I would be ok if my burial ceremony was attended by one person but only that one that my heart was screaming for whenever I gazed at the window to oblivion.
She would stare back at me. I came to notice a girl whose name I later found out, Shamim would stare at me for whatever time my mind was in deririe. I think she also noticed the bulge on my pants when I went love hay wire and much more her eyes hid when mine said hello.
For some reason I really did not seem to care much because my lonely sessions had become sacred to me and I knew some part of me was different. Besides that she looked five years or so younger than me. But her smile would send lucky flowers to my heart as if in consolation for my grief and her eyes somehow talked of someone who belonged to my world. To top it all she was Muslim, a fire I would dance to with pleasure.
Now wait a minute not the same shop we found ourselves in or the same compound lay ground for interaction of any kind, I was sullen as always and she was waiting for the right time I would man up or calm down.
Well I noticed she took to loud music whenever her folks were not around and I always brushed it as noise until one day she tuned loud Ugandan music by Juliana Kanyamozi who by the time was the big deal. I found myself at her doorstep.
Alluring paintings on the walls and African heritage decorations on the living room excited me. A giraffe drawing next to the fire oven made the place magical. It was simply a billionaire’s set up in a simple six bedroom apartment and then the music, our subject of discussion made it home for me.
The next few days witnessed drastic change between us from mere pep talks to hugs to cuddling and a smooch. It was this one Friday when we were cozy with each other just as we had gotten used to plus it was raining outside. I really don’t remember who started it but we began cuddling romantically and I accidentally got between her legs and sensed something strange.
I looked into her eyes as if to ask but I knew to better not. She noticed and looked at me deep in the eyes, “I am a transgender, as in a tranny and I… love you.” I looked through her eyes deep into her heart and I admit I had never seen such eyes of love…