Ihmani

"I miss Ihmani."

{If Ihmani knew that he's earned a title on my blog, he'll probably freak out. And yes, you can bet it won't be an elated kind of 'freak out'}

I woke up today infiltrated by this thought.

                Ihmani woke up one morning and decided it was time to leave the social media platform. Writing a miniature, almost negligible message about how he was leaving for a while, but he will back… He wrote something SO meager almost incomprehensible ati “Y’all take care of yourselves well for me.” {For me? For me?! Ihmani is the most stubborn person I know who barely gives a hoot! And today he says “for me”? It should have hit me then. It didn’t}

               As usual, I was there. Thinking that Ihmani was doing his usual thing – making a mountain out of an ant hill. And I gave him a sarcastic response: “Smh, like fasting these things are NOT broadcasted; that’s the BEAUTY of a mystery.” {Hardly did I know that the mystery was unraveling in me} … and by chance, I added “God be with you too Ih. Take good care of you and yours, for us too." By chance.

         …and just like that he left. Leaving another trivial, nugatory, almost lifeless gratitude reply, and just like that, he left. Leaving that insistent notification under it all

Ihmani left.

Breaking.

                 At the time, we were not so much of friends. We were barely foes... And for some reasons I miss Ih. I do not miss him in person. Because in person, Ihmani is adamantly stubborn. He is passive aggressive and I loathe the person I am/ I was with him. He makes me daring. Cold. Almost uncaring. He makes people unhinged. He gave one of my girls, the kind of passive aggressive that she fell in love with. But there is more to Ihmani than meets the eye; His memoir.               

                I miss the venue upon which we met – Godsgift Kikwetu Dishes. I miss what we were – A huge family of worshipers. 

 

We met every Thursday to meet, mingle and particularly, sing our hearts out. 

 

I miss what we were about – singing, eating, fun. I miss the dress ups, the make ups, the spruce ups, the compliments. 

The MC – J. /Jimmy/ Mwenda Njagi, he is a keeper. He notices stuff. Small ones even.

He gives compliments. He encourages. He nurtured gifts… and I miss what Glorious Thursday was all about.

 {Yes, I also miss the drama. I mean how would we be a family, if all we did was always fall in love? Hahaha…}

          And I guess that is the story behind Ihmani. … It feels like, as Glorious Thursday, the mat upon which we stood on, was suddenly removed under us; and we’ve been left scuffling for balance. Holding on to an illusion, a hope that somehow we will be back, we will be singing…
But really, can we be back? Charlene lost a sister. Tither lost a dad, I got a niece and a nanny who got into a grisly road accident… Life changing dramas, can we really be back? 

Is Ihmani ever coming back? Or is this a presage, a forecast of the future?

*sigh… I miss Ihmani.