Fat. Phoebe.Mutesi…nick name almost forgotten

continued from below

So anyway; from my imaginary friends in a guava tree, to people i grew to ‘know, love, sympathies and cry’ with inside of my grandfather’s books to an adult life in front of a box with talking pictures,  I turned out pretty much an anti-social.

The anti-social me is as weird as the whole of me. I like people, i just don’t get overly involved with these people. I love hanging out, but many times i like to just go out alone. on my own. watch people: dressed up girls standing out a disco or bar trying to make that “where are u/how come u are not here” phone call. Men cheating on their wives with little 20-somethings, with that “what she doesn’t know doesn’t hurt”, making out session, binge drinkers, table dancers and some f-words being traded.

I love to do this on my own because then no one will ask me why am quiet tonight, or what am thinking about and who i am missing. (i hate being asked such questions. the people never really buy my answers…”honey, i just want to sit out here and watch people. the whole nite” )

And by the way, considering that no one expects to see a girl out on their own, i always have strangers interrupting my “phoebe time.” I gues i will have to print a t-shirt with  SOD OFF,  for these particular nights.

This whole post is about what three girls did for me last night. Girls i have never really gone out of my way to be nice to. Girls i have no idea how to love the way a girl loves another- even when i know i hold each one of them dear and near to my heart . in different ways.

This post is about the fact that i havent stopped shedding tears because of that gesture. For everyone who showed up. everyone who made sure that the suprise wasnt ruined.

It was perfect, it was beautiful. it was the one most beautiful thing any one has ever done for me. Something that no one had to do but they did it anyway.

I entered that restuarant, Shaghai, and my knees went weak, and  my heart skipped beats. And i started to have recollections of the day; how each one of them had tried to distract me the entire day, put me off guard…and i could have kissed each one of them- these three girls.

Some things dont happen to people like me; or so i always thought.

When i got this scholarship, i felt like i had earned it. I was happy and grateful to God, especially consindering that in the whole of Africa only me and the South African girl were chosen. But still, I was not overwhelmed, overjoyed. I still think i will be, when i get there. may be. It is a great place.

But when i saw every one of those people, My friends, my classmates from Campus, Carol my boss (who rarely attends such things). Every one. I was humbled and touched. And grateful to Antipop for all the trouble she went through to put some thing like this together, especially consindering that she is not the mushy type.

And then after all that; i wanted to tell what had just been done for me to mommy. the only person who could understand what excatly it had meant to me. But i couldnt. I cant. I cant even pretend that i know she is up there somewhere, watching all this.

I am teary eyed, not because of the loser (antipop is rubbing off on me), that i have currently been losing my “brain space” over; am teary eyed because i feel extremely blessed.

Blessed with great girlfriends; girls with good souls, great workmates- people who have helped me grow in this thing that i do. Blessed with  wonderful grandparents, a great family.

 I am a good person. and i attract good people….even with my anti-socialness

 

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7 Comments Add yours

  1. cb says:

    It’s okay to cry when people are nice to you, Phoebe. You know you are a special girl, you deserved what you got and more. We’ve not interacted heartily since we met but you’ve always had special respect, or adoration in my heart. Because I think I know and understand you more at your workplace than no one else. I understood you the first time I saw you because in many ways we are alike. At least I’ve confirmed after reading the previous entry before this. The aloofness; finding you want to be alone more times and people don’t understand, asking questions, sometimes thinking you are angry when in fact you are just emjoying the silent poetry of medidation or life…well, go out there and please write books! When are you leaving? E-mail me

  2. antipop says:

    tear jerking. tears jerking. me jerking them off my face. stupid tears.

  3. jasmine says:

    somewhere in your youth, or childhood, you must have done something good.
    best wishes from a stranger.

  4. Iwaya says:

    🙂 good on you!

  5. mphoebe says:

    @CB; just ask me out already!

    @antipop; am sure those tears arent for/by this post. Stop chopping onions while u’re on blogger..chic pliz!

    @Jasmine; i too think somewhere in her youth or childhood, my mom must have done something good- she just didnt live long enough to reap what she had sowed—and then there was me. $*&!

    @Iwaya; its been a while. i noticed.

  6. DeTamble says:

    I totally agree with your mummy! She’s smart! and it’s just what my ma said to me too. Glad to see I wasn’t the only tv deprived kid out there.

  7. antipop says:

    chopping onions? wat? u hav already developed the italian sense of humor? coz gal, u never quite had the punchlines when you were here. pliz get in touch…

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