Keshi
“I’m finally in Watamu,” I squealed into my phone as I followed the concierge, Kim, down the grass stone floor texture pavement bordering a line of hibiscus and bougainvillaea. After six hours on the train, another two and a half hours in a matatu, and a five-minute Auto rickshaw drive I couldn’t help being excited.
I’d always wanted to visit the Kenyan coast, take a break from my busy life, the ever-busy Nairobi city, the unnerving traffic and there couldn’t be a more perfect time.
The morning ocean breeze summoned a slight movement of the leaves and caressed my chocolate skin. Involuntarily, I allowed my lungs to expand and absorb the fresh salty air.
“I’m so jealous right now.” I sensed a pout on my cousin Koki’s face. “I can’t wait for the weekend to arrive so I can come join you.”
My cousin was one of those people who would spend their lives on vacation if that were ever a thing.
I smirked. “Rest assured I’ll keep you updated on every detail.”
“Oh, I’ll be counting on it. After what Kevin did, I expect you to let go and have some fun.”
On the mention of his name, a knot began to form in my chest, I swallowed hard, attempting to push the urge to cry deep inside.
Kevin was my first love. He and I met during my freshman year at the University. After graduation, I thought he was going to propose. When he didn’t, I remained patient. We were still too young, we still hadn’t figured out our lives and had just started our careers, one of these days, he was going to pop that question.
I should have read the signs, I should have known it was over when he went radio silent for months. But I kept holding on to hope, believing he had a good reason for not answering my calls. That’s until I saw the photos of him with his new fiance, my best friend, ex-best friend, all over social media.
The next two days were spent on my cousin’s couch crying my eyes out, feeling stupid for worrying about him, cursing myself for not listening to Koki when she told me to open my eyes, wondering why I wasn’t enough for him, asking myself how Vicky could have done that to me and how long they had been together. That’s until I woke up on the third day with a newfound resolution.
Koki’s calm apologetic voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “I shouldn’t have brought him up, you shouldn’t be thinking of him on your vacation.”
“I’m not giving him the time of day,” I assured her.
“We’re here.” Kim’s voice prompted me to lift my head and take in the sight in front of me.
Surrounded by mangroves, palm trees and the endless sandy beach were cottages with white painted walls and palm leaves thatched roofing standing around a central mountain lake-shaped swimming pool.
“Does it resemble the picture on the website?” Koki inquired.
“Even better,” I said breathily.
“I’ll let you settle,” she said, “I’ll be waiting for those pics.”
We finished our chat and I paused to take a picture of the cottages. This was going to be on my Facebook page and WhatsApp status today, show Kevin and Vicky I wasn’t affected.
I followed Kim across the pavement on the side of the pool that was flanked by African-themed curvings and bonfires to the entrance of one of the small cottages.
Placing my duffle bag on the floor, he dug in the pockets of his blue cotton shirt uniform, pulled out a key, and opened the door.
I slowly stepped inside and my eyes wandered around the airy living room with high ceilings and large windows. Below the central ornate rug was mahogany furniture with white, red, and brown colour schemes. The white walls were decorated with African artwork and the room was brought to life by potted greenery that was strategically positioned.
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I felt lightheaded. “This is…beautiful,” I said, for lack of a better word.
He smiled. “I’ll show you around the cottage then let you rest. The journey must have been tiring.”
I had been exhausted a while ago, but the excitement I now had was enough to pump me up for a fifty-kilometre run.
By the time he was done showing me around the one-bedroom cottage with one bathroom and a kitchenette, I had fallen in love with the place. Everything gave me a sense of home away from home. This was all I could ask for, especially when it was going to be my home for the next ten days.
“The fridge is stocked with enough food for three days. In case you need more supplies, you can go to the local marketplace. You’ll find it on the map.”
I nodded.
He stretched his hand and dropped the key in my palm.
I walked to where my luggage was and dug out a five hundred Kenyan shillings note from my purse to tip him.
“Thank you,” he said. “Don’t hesitate to come find me or any staff if something is amiss.”
“Okay.”
He took off for the door and then turned around like he forgot something. “One of our guests is having a birthday party at the resort tonight, every Blue Palm guest is invited. It starts at seven, drinks and food will be free.”
“I’ll be there.” A smile tugged on the corner of my mouth as I watched him walk away.
With a solid plan for the evening, I planned for the day. First, I would unpack, then try to get some sleep after the long trip before ending my afternoon with a walk along the beach. But before that...
I tapped my phone gallery, shared the photo I took and captioned: All I needed was a slight reset to jump-start the part of my life that craves to travel the world.
***
Darren
The blasting music yanked me from my sleep.
Growling I pulled the comfy velvet pillow from under my head to cover my ear. I’d hoped to sleep longer than this, I’d spent eleven hours on planes from London and more hours waiting between flights.
After the season we just had, I needed peace and quiet. The Blue Marlin FC had been promoted to the Premier League and the pressure of playing against renowned teams had us busting our asses. We’d rounded off the season with sixty points which was a big win for us. My eleven goals and six assists stats made this season the most successful in my soccer career.
At twenty-six, I was a step closer to accomplishing my goals, promises I’d given that eleven-year-old orphan boy. Dreams that required me to ball hard in the coming Premier League. And a short break was what I needed to fuel me for what was to come.
The pillow didn’t help, my bed was vibrating to the rhythm. I tossed and turned, my irritation increasing with each passing second. Didn’t the hotel have a rule against loud music? And didn’t my neighbour know they weren’t the only ones staying at the cottages?
I was so close to getting up and putting a stop to this morning’s disco when the song came to an end.
Finally. I let out a sigh when minutes passed and no other song followed. The tension left my face as I let my body relax, trying to call back the sleep that was slowly slipping away.
I’d almost drifted back to sleep when another song blasted through the thin walls.
“Christ.” I sat up, swinging my legs off the queen-sized bed.
I walked across the room to pick a clean t-shirt from my barely unpacked suitcase.
When I was finally decent, I made it for the door.
I paused halfway, with loud music like that, neighbour dearest would definitely not hear me knocking on the main door. I made a U-turn and headed for the glass door leading to the small backyard.
I half expected to be hit with deafening music the moment I opened my door. But it was fairly low despite the neighbour’s backyard door being open.
Maybe I overreacted. I tended to be a bit cranky in the morning. Or maybe the walls were super thin and made the music feel like it was playing in my room.
I charged forward, across the veranda bordered with symmetrically planted flowers.
As I drew closer, a distinctly female voice could be heard singing along to the song Dancing Queen by Abba.
Pausing in front of the door, my eyes were drawn to the image in front of me.
The lady was carefreely dancing to the music. She didn’t possess well-coordinated feet but she didn’t care. She threw one hand in the air while the other one held a hair spray bottle that acted as a microphone.
She had the most amazing voice I’d ever had, the way she hit those high and low notes was unbelievable. I could listen to her sing all day and never tire.
She was talented but sadly her feet didn’t seem to share the talent. She was a terrible dancer.
A cracking sound came from somewhere and immediately the lady stopped dancing and glanced in my direction.
Did I laugh? Oh God, I hope I didn’t laugh.
But the frown on her face confirmed it. “What are you doing there?” She walked towards me.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” And the stupid grin crept on my mouth.
She held the door and slammed it in my face.
“I-” she walked away, grabbed her phone, and left her bedroom before I could say anything else.
The small Sony Bluetooth speaker went silent as the other door slammed.
I’d gotten what I wanted but the guilt I had now wouldn’t allow me to get back to sleep.