Tuesday, December 04, 2007

Juba Last Days

Baby, when we party we party!

There have been many nights and some slipped in afternoons of this, in restaurants rump leaning into the Nile. I’m one of the riders in the storm, everyday; this land will kill me. I have a week to go baby, and the slow mental arsenic poisoning has been upped. I’ve got to make it, somehow. Danger lurks everywhere and I never told anyone how much each day when my sweaty back sinks into my bare mattress, I’m shaking, my fingers tracing every line in my face, my voice in my throat caught, I can’t believe I have made it through another day, I will find no sleep until elbow sunk in the mattress, on my side again, I take several sips of this gin I have stocked up on. Oh yeah, baby, it’s that bad and I never told you. I don’t know how I could begin. I will never be able to tell you. I know I will look into your wonderful laughing face, and I will never be able to tell you the horrors I see and pass through everyday, I will make it all funny, I will make you laugh, baby, because this is why you love me so, I make you laugh good.

I know you’ll be laughing telling you about the night I walked half Juba, abandoned, and I don’t want to go into the details because into this world we’re thrown. Baby, you’ll find it funny. Killers on the road hunting for foreigners Customs Market brutality, Computer room detentions at Immigration borders kicked in the ribs while trying to squat as ordered, Baby, there is a joke in all this. How many VCT Centers in Juba, girls whose sero status is known through the grapevine looking for the one they had not thought of looking for before, now that the years are passing and the Juba dust cannot hide the wrinkles anymore want one man but all the men want is a one night stand, Home & Away bar and restaurant parked outside the gate 3am, give me a quick one in the car, no one will see, I got my Number One condoms here, double cabin blue pick up rocking side to side, never to call again because this network is so unreliable, Baby, you will be dying of laughter, I have laughed at the sights I have seen. Baby, I have seen more than I ever wanted to see.

How strangely wonderful, ironic even, I will be craving a return barely two weeks in Kampala, muddle water gazing into the future, whiskeys whose names I did not know in my system, I’m terrified of a Kampala return for so many reasons, Kampala has become too small, will I ever wander your streets rapt wondering like I used to, Baby you never got that of me. The desperate dust wind swirling lands are not in your streets, they have always been in my soul, Baby I’m a road man, will never cease motion, don’t love me so much. I don’t think you will know me when you see me again. Talking more than I ever talked, less tolerant, more impatient, time’s winged chariot brushes my left ear, and I know my time is running out, and Baby, it’s not that I’m afraid, I want more than I have ever wanted, I don’t know if you have all I want, I want so much more, so much. I do though still know this; I still find the whole world in a kiss from your lips.

11 comments:

Samantha said...

From the figure on that receipt, when you party you really party.

So, I hope you are coming back to Kampala for good. Changed or not?

~ScotchBiscuits~ said...

I find it a little sad, that life is not neat and tidy.Sad that sometimes when we grow, we grow away from the people we love, we go to places where we dont know if they have all we want...
Sad that we can still find a whole world in just one kiss, and yet somehow that might be less than what we want? somehow it might not be enough?
So there-you are still making me wonder if they are right those folks who accuse me of being bipolar, because here I am again, feeling all these random things, and all because I read this.

cb said...

b happy. don't worry. u'll, as usual, fair pretty fine.

minty said...

*looks like my comment's going to post this time*
Let me use this chance to say how awesome your writing is, dude, all of it. I keep wondering where (or whether) fiction meets real life sometimes, but I'm chomping away.

modoathii said...

"i still find the world in a kiss from your lips." that stopped me right there...well doesn't count that it came at the end...hehehe...

indeed a kiss can stop a wandering man. dayummm, you seen crazy things, strange how we crave it when we leave, kinda grows on you..

you'll be cool.

http://modoathii.wordpress.com

modoathii said...

14 AOKOHOS? indeed you party!

Cheri said...

Ditto Modo, Iwaya, that last line nailed it.

Cheri said...

Your pizza cost $73.

gayuganda said...

I am green with envy at the accolade!

But it is well deserved. Maybe by now you's back to K'la. Had not noticed your Atom, but now I am subscribed. At least I will be able to catch up with your posts in Kampala!

And will comment, if you dont mind my doing so. Others seem to do!

gug

Iwaya said...

@GUG: You're welcome to comment any time. I put you in my blogroll because I think your blog rocks.

@You guys: you make me blush! really, and i make awkward bows. you don't want to see that.

gayuganda said...

Sir Iwaya,

I salute you sir!

Less elegantly, I bow.

thanks

gug