Hello, Mom. How are you doing? 

Today I am going to address what I feel to be wrong in my whole existence as a human. I am going to let you in on secrets I have been holding back since I stepped into adulthood. Today I am going to let you know how your son deals with women. Today I have to open up to, to let you know how spoiled I became. I blame you not but for each choice I made your influence kept dwindling. Your teachings have since then became skeletons with no body, no life and thus no use.

I am tired mom, I am weary. As I write this letter, all I can see is how hateful I have become. Perhaps it is pathological or maybe it is just who I am. A lot has happened since we parted ways, we could no longer enjoy a heart to heart conversation without me revealing who I was. That’s why, we no longer hold deep talk for long even after months of no contact. I wish I had the courage to tell you this in person but then I am cowardly. I don’t know how and where to share such secrets.

My existence as a young boy had been of holding women in high regard. You raised us as a single mother. Your presence in our life was all we could ask for and with such I grew up ready to recognize efforts made by women in all fields. I had been surrounded by women my whole life from you, grandma, sisters and aunties. They all inspired my belief in women. It was always great seeing a woman recognized anywhere. I remember championing for a female headmaster in our primary school just to see a change in leadership but then old habits die hard.

Then came high school. I had to spend most of my time with boys for four years, I still had a soft spot for women. With the rise of ratchet music came my misunderstanding; they way female video vixens danced or appeared to be dancing felt like somebody was using them. At this point I had no idea what greased the engine of the world, I had no idea what every person was out to get. 

All I saw was an utter humiliation of the fairer species by how women danced particularly in those videos. As expected we enjoyed them, they made our hormones shoot and so we had to feed our starving hormones.

High school was not so confusing, I had a single agenda which I managed to follow through. The promise of university seemed enticing. I had to get myself into college, after all the promise back then was education is the key. Books just exited me, I read a myriad of stories from inventors to mythologies for the sheer enjoyment. I just loved the feel of paper on my fingers I wish I knew the feel of the paper that mattered. I regret not of those times. Good old days, I still reminisce upon them.

Upon my completion of high school, I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Timid as I was, I watched as the world went by, slowly acclimatizing myself to its feel. Amidst the confusion, I managed to win the heart of a girl. She was one of a kind, with drowsy eyes and her dark complexion. She was the very definition of beauty. You even met her at some point but I was not going to show her to you, it was coincidentally At the same time, I was a friend to some other girl from our village. The evening walks seemed exciting with her around. I recognized our relationship is platonic until I gathered the courage to ask her to be my girlfriend. It was my first ever stupid move. I had not broken up with my first girl. It felt wrong but i just powered through forcing the heart to be comfortable. We had been long time friends since high school and I felt very confident. She turned it down saying that I was more of a joker. Young at heart and affairs of love, this was my first rejection. It was painful but I recovered. I consoled myself by the fact that it was the wrong thing to do in the first place. I acted all matured up and we went on with our friendship.

Then came University; a place that everything I had decent melted away. I recall, back in high school, most of the speeches we would get were about freedom in college and the presence of beautiful women, emphasis on beautiful women. This was confirmed one time as we visited a local university, the place swarmed with women from all walks of life, looking good, one would be spoilt for choice. The fact that we went there during their closing bash, had us watch the university life with no filters. It felt enticing, it won me over.

And to university I went, but for me ours was at the city centre. We became separated from the ladies by where we stayed. We only met in school. Life became clear really fast, I had to fend for myself, remembering the situation at home, I did not dare ask for assistance from home. The first semester went by without a fuss, at this point in life I had no girlfriend. All I had were novels, my “kabambe” phone and my wonderful brain. After classes I always made sure that I was headed home without so much of activities around the school. Then came friends, we met on the department footbridge and from here we observed and gossiped about the ladies below. We may have had our own inferiority complexes. We enjoyed what we saw and loved it.

My village friend had gone to another university, she was faring well. I checked on her once in a while and each time she shared of how life was great, she was in a relationship. Time went by and her first relationship ended. Teared up, she called me. I listened to her as she lamented, waiting for her to pour everything out. We talked about our past, and I advised her as much as I could. She seemed happy as she hung up the phone. Another soul ready to face life.

I had a girl that I admired in our class, it was awkward as I acted all weird about it. She always recognized the little things I did but my cheekiness turned her away. It went on like this into the second semester and a relationship sparked. I always admired the campus relationships and now I was into one with a lady so close to me. At the middle of the semester I came to learn that the lady was in a relationship with one of my classmates. They had a long standing one which begun back on the admission day. I had to break it.

I convinced myself all was well and sunk into more novels. It was great to experience fantasy without limitations. I was almost giving up on being in a relationship, which by now seemed to be controlling a major percentage of my life, when  I met one of my former primary classmates. She was gorgeous, it felt like those love stories having a childhood soulmate. I felt this was perfect in all senses. We talked, joked, laughed at the memories we had back then. A month later, we had to part ways, she was no longer good for me. As she went on, I felt nothing in fact I was happy escorting her. 

I was done with university, apart from the academic units I took, I had my own social units in relationships. Everything didn’t workout. It was just impossible. All was okay but my soul felt empty I had a void I needed to fill. Relationships didn’t satisfy and so I had to keep looking. The lust in me had increased tenfold, I couldn’t contain it. It was simply insatiable. 

The years I spent in university I had been in more relationships than my course units and I didn’t forget even one of them. With them not working I only fantasize to love songs songs that warmed my heart, songs that made me feel there’s always a future we know nothing about. I always felt so alive listening to “The Beatles’ Happy together.”

Cumulatively mom, those years made me who I am today- unsatisfied, pessimistic, ungrateful narcissistic manchild. I had little left of the value I had for women. I blame no one not at any point but in this pit right now, my life is moving in cycles.

I behave like a predator always looking out for the next prey. I have met so many broken people, men and women alike. I have helped some and even watched them soar into the sky. What I have been unable to do, is take my own advice. Pieces of advice that will melt your heart. 

I sometimes wake up late into the night just to look at the mirror and wonder what have I become. I still smile and then go back to bed. I wake up daily heavily hearted and smile to the world for I am one of it’s problems. I cause havoc everywhere I go but still manage to stay calm amidst chaos. I solve problems but create them as well. 

I just hope this letter finds you well, you may lose faith in me, be angered or just react indifferently but I will be here waiting for your response. I don’t know how I am still sane but everyday comes as it goes. If this letter gets home before March then we may see each other after a very long time. 

I wish I could have come to you from ages ago about everything. I stepped into the storm with a matchstick and somebody stomped on it. Now all I do is grasp on anything in the darkness praying that I will survive until tomorrow. I have contemplated suicide but that seems not to work for me. 

I am sorry mama.

Yours truly,


  1. Sly says:

    Nice piece.. But a sad story of you maybe.mama was playing a big role in your life but the distance made you a different person from the one she raised…

  2. Nigel Omondi says:

    Nice, this is a very captivating and mirror story that most youth of our generation can relate to.
    It’s good that you’ve addressed the situation, we can now look forward to finding solutions amidst all this confusion.

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