A friend’s well crafted piece which happened to be inspired by me 😉.

I have been blessed to have been surrounded by some talented and inspiring people in my life, one of them being my one an donly girlfriend Michaellah. She is from Zimbabwe. This beautiful, yet smart lady has been nothing but a positive influence in my life. And she’s amongst the people who have insipired my documenting of my life and thoughts or blogging as y’all fancy people love to pin it down as.

I highly recommend that you check her blog https://mmapotaringa.wordpress.com/ for more creative and well crafted short stories like the following.

For the love of Teezee

I hurriedly searched for the price of a plane ticket. South Africa and Tanzania weren’t too far from each other. My Minster of Foreign Affairs had invited me to spend the summer break with him at his parents’ house.This was a lifetime opportunity, way better than the summer fling I had imagined. Of course, I wanted to whine my waist, shake my buttocks and gyrate on a bar table in an exotic place but having a lover invite me home was a better deal. I drummed my fingers on the laptop thinking up a good excuse to tell my mother about why her nineteen-year-old needed to go to the East African country. That night I told my parents how the Chicago initiative to teach African youths how to apply to American Universities had requested my help, as a volunteer had dropped out at the last minute and they needed an African replacement asap.

The next day I was on a two-hour flight to Daar es Salaam.My prince picked me up at the airport and we jetted off to his home.The streets were lined with boys between the ages of 12 and 14 playing soccer in the streets. The girls straddled baskets laden with fruits. The juicy yellow and orange mangoes called out to me, my mouth watered at the thought of how many I would be able to devour during my three-week visit.The women chided the children playing on the streets as they arranged their tomatoes for sale into tiny pyramids with the slightly rotten fruit at the bottom and the succulent red ones at the top.I stared out of the window enchanted by the sights I saw.South Africa was the same but the oxygen here was of a different kind, the euphoria circulated faster than the smoke coughed out by the vehicles in the city.

So John hadn’t told me what his economic status was and I was so excited to have a truly Tanzanian experience.Eat Ugali with my fingers, devour chapatis and pilau, go to the market with his mother elaborately dressed in a kanga dress.You can imagine my shock as the car wheeled into a gigantic yard with a swimming pool and a double story house which was bigger than a soccer field and his mother waved at us while dressed in jeans and a top.I had brought all my long skirts for nothing.I silently chuckled to myself, why had I tried to dress like a woman applying for the post of wife in his family.My long billowing skirt irritated my ankles and made me look like a short round woman without curves.

John’s mother hugged me enthusiastically as she welcomed me into her home.She gushed about how her son hadn’t stopped talking about me.I blushed silently as I prayed that he hadn’t told her about my prowess in bed.It was the reason I was there, or so I thought.John’s siblings were excited to meet me and I immediately struck up a close friendship with his seventeen-year-old sister, Sandra.She was after all my cover story.The seventeen-year-old and I needed to go over a few things to appear like true best friends.John’s father a strict conservative man had only agreed to house a female guest under the pretense that she was his daughter’s best friend.I guess John and I wouldn’t be making love on the dining room table but would have to sneak around.

John’s father arrived home at 8 pm after his business meeting.There was a flurry of movement as the ten-year-old twins dived for the dining room table where their homework lay half open.The Tv was switched off, and I scooted from the sofa where John and I had been sitting with his head in my lap, to a chair closer to Sandra.A tall middle-aged man strode into the room and filled it with his greeting.He was cheerful after having sealed a big deal and told the twins to watch tv since they had been doing homework for a long time.John winked at me as his father asked how I had met Sandra and how my people in South Africa were.The interview was quickly concluded and John’s mother dished out the ugali and beef stew.After dinner, I settled into my room which was two doors down from John’s and I was just about to fall asleep when he jumped into my bed.The sheets became electrified as our love consumed our bodies.The bed shook softly beneath us as we reached for the heavens.The ceiling must have cried from watching us change positions like tv channels.John tied a soft cloth around my mouth to prevent my cries from breaking the stillness of the night.

Even though there was no breakfast in bed, our mornings were spent blissfully in the shower showing the tiles what a man and woman hungry for each other can achieve in a bathroom.I was drifting on my own cloud until the unexpected visitor dropped by.She was his ex-girlfriend and she had come to fight for her man.She was a yellow-bone like me, short like me, with the body of a true woman.Supple breasts and firm buttocks.My only advantage was my natural hair.She pulled her Brazilian wig off and exposed the neat cornrows underneath.Next, she shrugged off her high heel shoes and began to beat on her chest the way Nigerian women do when they are about to provoke a fight.She threatened to remove her clothes if I did not come out of the house to fight her.

Author: Mr.Clevance

I am starting this journey as a self-realization process that I have been meaning to do years now. I hope it changes and inspires you as it will to me.

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