The piece we have today is by a beautiful Ugandan soul. I have know Esther for a little while now thanks to Afrobloggers and Twitter (one day I’m going to write a letter to the heads at Twitter and thank them for this amazing space-but that’s a story for another day.)
Me and Esther share a love for writing and reading. I don’t quite know which one we over love. We bonded over Half of a Yellow Sun and both day dreamed about co-owning a bookstore franchise across the continent that would not dissapointed. One with soft chairs and overflowing beverages and ceiling-high shelves stacked with African literature.
When our dreams come true and we are published and own a bookstore I want you guys to know it all started when a Botswana girl and a Ugandan girl who shared a love for books and Africa and writing bonded over a Maya Angelou poem on a single tweet.
P.S Head over to Esther’s blog – firstname.lastname@example.org 😊
PLAYING CHORDS OF MY HEART
“It’s like every time he plays that melody on the guitar, it’s as though the very strings being strummed, plucked and picked reside on the inside of M.E. My heart palpitates in sync with the consequent pulling at the strings. When I’m happy, it smiles with M.E soaring with my heart to a whole new different level…of endless dubious grins. How does he do it?
When I’m sad, it coaxes M.E into trusting him with my little girl nonsense till I choke on my tears in irregular breathing patterns…holds M.E there until the last string is plucked. Then I’m released from that moment in which it so tightly holds M.E.
That’s all he ever does. He plays that melody every time we are together and oh, I am content. He says it’s an original. M.E inspired even. My poems are out done but I’m okay. I love him.” –Journal entry weeks earlier.
I know that song much too well. I remember him strumming it on his guitar every time we were together. He called it ‘our song’. I don’t remember much of what he sang to it but I know he played in variations of A minor.
I never really liked musical guys but he defied everything I presumed I did not like. For one, he was one inch shorter and evidently smaller than M.E. I must have been possessed because there’s no logical explanation. There’s no other way. How on earth did I fall for him??? Yet I guiltily loved the dare devil that possessed M.E. It was edgy and I love edge.
I listened as she played her guitar and dreamily told M.E about him. It was their song and she wanted M.E to meet him. I smiled the smile I always smile to mask ugly feelings, because edge has and will always be the death of M.E. I told her I’d be glad to.