Monday, June 28, 2010


Miriam was about 12 years when she started noticing her body changing. Her breasts were getting bigger and tender by the day, her hips were getting round. She also noticed whenever she walked past a group of boys they would whistle and cat call. She found this so embarrassing and would blush every time. One morning she woke up and found her bed sheet as well as her nightdress was bright red. She was scared to tell her mother in case she got a beating. So, lay back in her bed and when her mother came to enquire she said she was not feeling well. Once everyone had left the house, she jumped out of bed and quickly took a bath, burnt her bed sheets, changed them and went back to sleep. This happened every day until she could not take it anymore and spoke to her mother about it. Of course, by this time it had stopped. Her mother laughed and consoled her. She told her she was growing into a young woman and it was time to stop playing with boys.

Miriam was growing faster than she would have liked. In her clique, she was the first to develop. She missed running around with the boys, climbing trees and playing hunting games. Instead, she would stay home more and do housework or the chores her mother would give her. Because of this change in her free time she would sit in her room and read books. Mills and boons, romantic novels and wish she was like those beautiful ladies.

It was at around this time that her uncle (Macharia) came to visit. He had just finished high school and was waiting to go to university. The last time he visited, he was short but this time he had grown into a young handsome man. During this time, he teased her about her changing body. Her mother and father decided to let Macharia stay permanently. They thought that Miriam needed a tutor since she was weak in Math and Sciences. Macharia was fond of Miriam since she was his only niece who was close to his age.

Macharia used to come to Miriam’s room to talk and would stay for hours on end. It during one of this visits that he started playing the tickle game that ended in a kiss. It lasted more than a minute. She was so embarrassed and thought it was her mistake. Macharia made her promise not to tell a soul. Every day, he would come into her room and kiss her or lightly caress her breasts. She knew what he was doing was wrong but she was too scared to tell her mother.

It stopped for over a week because Macharia was not in town. When he came back he was so moody, she avoided him. Apparently, the marks he got were not efficient to get him into university. He mopped around the house and even refused to tutor her. Her parents had had hopes that he could join a college and do a bridging course and eventually get into university.

One night, she felt a presence in her room. She woke up to find a Macharia standing at her bedside. She stifled her cry, scared that he would hit her. He sat on the bed and covered her mouth with his hand. With the other hand, he undid the buttons of her pajama top. Slowly, he caressed her breasts and later bent his head to kiss her nipples one by one. She tried to remove his hand but he was too strong for her. He pulled her towards him and tried to kiss her but she resisted. His breath was reeking of alcohol. He pulled the bed covers back and climbed on top of her and entered her.

For three consecutive months, he came to her room and raped her. Miriam was an introvert by nature but she would talk when she had a problem. Her mother thought she was withdrawing because of teenage hood but her father sensed she wasn’t happy. Miriam and her father were close, not only was she his only little girl but also the apple of his eye.

To be continued……..

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

Friday, June 25, 2010


I am so taken by you
I can’t get enough of you
My thoughts revolve around you
Yet I do not know you.
I search for you on the internet
I read your biography over and over
I listen to you
I read your articles over and over.
I want to know more about you
What do you do in your free time?
What do you like?
What do you dislike?
What are your favorite hangouts?
What side of the bed do you sleep on?
I watched you in the shopping mall
Holding your kids and goofing with your wife
Your family seems complete and happy.
But first
I have to get to know you better.
I passed the interview
Though your wife said I was over qualified.
I clean and cook for you
The other day
I walked into your room
Sat on your side of the bed
Wore your favorite pajamas
Slept on your side of the bed
It felt like you were holding me
Caressing me
Kissing me

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

Tuesday, June 22, 2010


Today I saw a man
Standing at the bus top
He approached the matatu
The conductor of the matatu stopped him
There was an exchange of words
Then his expression changed.
The conductor pushed him
He did not hit back neither did he grumble
His expression said it all.
I began to wonder
Why are we so cruel to each other?
Why do we treat people so badly?
Is it in us to be evil, underestimate and disrespect?
Or are these things we learn over time.
I think sometimes we do things without thinking or caring.
I am not perfect
You are not perfect
We are not perfect
A little love and compassion
Can go a long way
Back to the beginning
If the matatu conductor had acted differently
Maybe he would have put a smile on the strange man’s face.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Thursday, June 10, 2010


Monday, Angela
Tuesday, Melanie
Wednesday, Tiffany
Thursday, Rosemary
Friday, Alice
Saturday, India
Sunday, Wife
He takes them to different restaurants
Picks them from work and drops them home.
The perfect gentleman he is
They love and adore him
He treats them well making sure all their needs are met.
To his wife
He is the provider
Doting father
And loving husband
He dons her in the best designer attire
From head to toe
Diamond engagement ring
Gold wedding ring
Sapphire wedding ring
He is always there for
Anniversaries, birthdays and other important occasions
To his friends
He is the role model
Successful business man and advisor
He is sharp, charismatic and charming
He is the perfect lady magnet.


Under all that he has a weakness

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010


I hate moments like these
My mind becomes naughty
The devil sets in
Lays his tools
Begins his work
With all the tools being made
I become the devils workshop.
When I have no thoughts
In times like these
I think about s-e-x
Long distance shit
The bitterness in everyman’s soul


©thelma migue, 2010

Written for John Kiarie.

From the cizoepoetry collection

Tuesday, June 8, 2010


Let us go where the river takes us
Don’t make a fuss
Let us follow the river
Let the current guide us.

Take my hand
Hold tight
Look into my eyes
Keep the faith

Believe in me
One day you will receive
What you deserve.

Precious stones
Cannot measure
The experience
The thrill
The addiction

Don’t ask questions
Don’t put limits
Should we get lost?
The beats of our hearts
Will guide us back.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

Monday, June 7, 2010


The pain I have gone through
The time I spent crying
The time I looked back
When I thought I had closed the door
I realized a left it open a jar
Over time
Things have worn off on me
I am scared of the unknown
When you get too close
I pull away into my hole
Close it a little bit
Shelter my heart and soul.
I don’t want this pain
It keeps coming back
When I least expect
It is driving me wild
I wrapped my heart
With barbed wire
When you try to pull it away
You tear a piece of me
I cry in pain
The wounds are bleeding again
The blood is red and fresh
The pain drowns me
I lose track of time
In my cocoon
I fall into a dreamless sleep
Full of my demons and dark moments
You may not understand
I am not easy to follow
Don’t pull away
This is the time I need the most help
This is when I need your hand to hold me
This is when I need your chest to lay my head
This is when I need your arms to keep me secure
My hands are numb
From chipping at the ice carved in stone
I may be strong on the outside
On the inside
I am weak

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

Friday, June 4, 2010


Scenes of you flash through my mind
Holding and kissing me

Slowly unbuttoning your shirt
Kissing you from head to toe

Laying me down and kissing my navel
Moving up to my lips

Stroking your back
Pulling you closer
And letting you in

Moving slowly as we both mourn
You go deeper and deeper
Till we scream as we both climax

That was a day dream
I wonder how it would be in reality

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.

Thursday, June 3, 2010


Here I am writing you a love poem
Holding back those tears
It’s been so long
It feels just like yesterday
So many years
Too many tears
After so long
I still feel the same.
I am wearing your favorite jacket
Your favorite pants – the ones you said brought out the shape of my ass
I catch a sniff of your cologne
Painful memories come flooding back
I pass by your favorite spots
Restaurants and pubs
Down our street
I stop by the florists
Buy a bouquet of roses and carnations
They were your favorite
I smile as I remember the way
You would hold the rose between your teeth
As we danced to salsa
For the last five years
This has been my routine
Every Sunday I check on you
Next time I will come with our little girl.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection

Wednesday, June 2, 2010


Don’t blame me
My heart has grown tired
I have loved
I have been loved
I have hurt
I have being hurt
My heart
Has lived through
All the pain and love
And survived
Don’t blame me
If I do not respond
Don’t blame me
If I am reluctant
Don’t blame me
If I am cautious
I have been down that road
I have lived through the honeymoon stage
As well as the fire and rain
I want to love again
My heart says it is tired
It needs a break
To recover and find its self.

©thelma migue, 2010

From the cizoepoetry collection.