Loving Brenda

In retrospect, you can always tell the moments that changed your life forever. I remember one English lesson in Primary three, the teacher asked for the opposite of the word "bright". I knew the answer, I knew it was spelled "dull" but I did not know it was pronounced "dall". Somehow the rest of the class seemed to be ignorant of the answer. This was my moment to shine. I was fresh from the village and I wanted to show these city dwellers that I was a clever boy.

The class was quiet; the teacher looked around with expectation, a single hand slowly reached up seeking attention.
"Yes, Raymond, what is the opposite of bright?"
"The opposite of bright is dull", I said with all emphasis on the u.
"That is correct, but it is pronounced "dall", class repeat after me, dull"

As the entire class echoed the teacher, I sat down and felt waves of discomfort wash over me. I had known the word but not how to say it, I felt ignorant and stupid and from then on I never willingly raised my arm in class to answer questions no else could but whose answers I knew. I slowly gravitated towards the back of the class and became the consummate "back bencher".

I am forever amused by my reaction that day, if I had taken it in stride and seen it for what it really was; I know without a doubt that my life would have played out differently. Perhaps I would have been that guy who follows all the rules, but I know beyond any doubt that my life changed that day.

Looking back on my life now I can discern most of the moments that have made me who I am and none stands out more than a kiss. Underneath a starry sky by the river Nile, Brenda kissed me and I have never been the same. It was a day of many firsts; my first cigarette, my first blunt and it was the first time I really ever opened up to a girl.

A few years earlier I had gotten my heart broken. I had fallen in love with Geri, a "born again" Christian and I guess I never really did stand a chance against God but I had to try. I still harboured notions of an all encompassing love; I was by all means a hopeless romantic. She was sweet, kind, gentle and beautiful. She still is all these things. I got so tangled up in her life that I would spend time at her home, chatting comfortably with her dad and playing with her kid brothers. I was there when Semei died. I couldn't find anything to say, I had been here before and understood that no one really knew what you went through and the best I could do was just be there. I remember getting up to leave the vigil and her asking me not to go. The idea that I could give any comfort was in itself comforting, so I stayed. We buried him in September 2001; I will never forget it because it was the same time terrorists levelled the World Trade Centre. The world was changing and I with it.

A few months later I managed to get the courage to tell Geri how I felt. We were walking somewhere on campus, I think she was going to catch the bus to her hostel. I blurted it out and just like that my life changed yet again. It should be a matter of record that the worst response to "I love you" is without a doubt "thank you, I'm flattered". This was the beginning of a hard lesson, a realisation that fantasy and reality are indeed miles apart. That love perhaps does not conquer all, that contrary to popular belief, it does keep a record of wrongs. I tried hard to understand why she rejected me, maybe I wasn't cute enough, or wasn't rich enough but I knew her better than that. So I asked her if it was because of my beliefs, she said no but to this day I believe that more than anything else was the problem. We tried to be close friends after that but I just couldn't handle being around her and told her as much. Her father passed away about a year or so after that and to this day I marvel at her strength and her faith and I still feel deeply for her.

Throughout my earlier years, I had been told to forsake all sorts of indulgences. I was apparently against a harsh world and could not afford such things as most teenagers experience. I was told to mind my books and all would be well when I got to the university. I could have gone to America for my university but I had waited for so long to get here. This place called Makerere was where I had been promised my life would begin in earnest. I wanted to experience it. So with my broken heart I considered the prospect of burying myself in books that were quickly becoming boring. This was not at all what I had been promised so I decided to embrace the wild side. I decided to reinvent myself, I became a bad boy. This was partly based on Patrick's analysis of my heartbreak, stating the old adage that "nice guys finish last". I changed my social circles and instead of spending evenings with Geri or one of my born again friends, I opted for wine, women and song. I felt empty still, I could not find someone who truly understood me and it was mostly my fault because I couldn't bring myself to open up to anyone. I embraced the concept of the individual that sometimes I didn't care about hurting other people. It was one of the best decisions of my life; I didn't give much thought to the future and just trusted that somehow it would work out. I partied like there was no tomorrow and indeed whenever I would think about my future; I felt that familiar sense of discomfort.

I always searched for someone to complete me. Ever since my mother died, I felt alone in the world but somehow I always knew that there was someone out there I could share my life with. I think that belief always pushed me on despite the darkest of moments. I met Brenda one unremarkable day while I was doing sit-ups and push-ups in my room on campus. I shared a room with Roger and Patrick in my first year so there were always people coming and going. I was probably on my fourth push-up, wondering if I could make it to twenty let alone ten when I heard a knock at the door. I was all sweaty and my eyes had gone crimson because of all the blood rushing to my head. I opened the door just wide enough to stick my head out and there she was with Rona, Roger's cousin. They were looking for Roger and after informing them that he wasn't around and that I would be sure to let him know the moment I saw him, they left. To be honest it was a rather unremarkable event but I never forgot it. She would tell me years later that the way I looked at her that day made her feel like a child, all I remember is the way she looked so innocent.

The weeks and months passed, she got involved with Roger and I ardently explored the campus life. If there is one thing I cannot be faulted on, it is enjoying myself. I am happy to report that campus was all they had promised it would be. It was a time of building friendships that will forever endure, of experimenting and self discovery. If there was proggie, I did it and it was on one of these proggies that we got talking. I don't know what drew to her but somehow I found it easy to talk to her. I could tell her things I didn't tell anyone else. She had broken up with Roger and I could tell it was hard on her. I did my best to ease her self doubt. One Saturday my friends and I struck upon the idea of taking a trip to Jinja. We were the kind of people to organise such a trip in two hours flat. Jorge quickly organised transport and we bundled everyone into the taxi and headed to Jinja. I remember when we drove to Googz's hostel so that he could pick a change of clothes and we found Abbas, his roommate, bored and idle.
"We go to Jinja" I said
"Now?" He asked
"Yup, get a change of clothes and we go"
"Okay"
It was that easy to organise proggie, there were always takers. It was a trip that none of us will ever forget. I think that all of us on that trip became closer and have always been since. That was the trip that took us to that place by the river Nile, where she pulled me close and kissed me and I was never the same again.

There is an unspoken rule among friends concerning the girls they date. It is called the code. I broke this code; I threw caution to the wind and fell in love with this girl. In my defence she and Roger had broken up and he was seeing someone else. His being my brother did not make it any easier. I had the most exciting months of my campus life and by the time we convened the "clear the air" talks I was too far gone. When a guy breaks the code, somehow a conversation between the two parties is arranged. From this conversation it came to light that I had erred, that despite what I thought, a guy could have two girls and be equally in love with them. I acquiesced to this and promised myself that I would be only a friend.

I left campus later that year still trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. She became "my person" and I hers. She was the one person who knew me truly and I could not help myself but talk to her. We would meet for beer and a chat every now and then. I remember one day when I was depressed by the fact that I didn't know what I wanted to do with myself and she said to me "I believe you can do anything you want, you're that kind of person." From then on I was "Superman" and she was "Wonder Woman". Somehow we never talked about Roger. I always assumed she saw me as his brother. I knew her as the kind of person who did something because she wanted to. I knew that if she wanted anything more than friendship from me I would know it. I remember one night when I was dropping her home, I kissed her and she asked, "Are you sure about this?" I should have been, but all I could say was "Who's sure of anything?" I tried to distance myself after that. I got involved with someone else and predictably it didn't work out, but I gave it my best shot. She was always there though, at the back of my mind.

At the beginning of her last year, I told her that one of my resolutions was to see a lot more of her. There is no doubt that was one of the best years of my life. It was full of stolen kisses and the most intimate conversations. We shared dreams and hopes and I built a future in my head. I told her how I wanted to take a year off and head east to see the world and she asked me "and what will some of us do when you go?" She knew that I always felt I would never settle down but I told her that if ever there was anyone I could spend my life with, it was her. She kissed me and I built dreams. Still there was Roger between us.

It was a Saturday night when I last saw her walk into a room. I was seated in a favourite corner of "Bubbles", an Irish pub my friends and I frequent, when she strolled in. Anything I had been up to till then was irrelevant; I only had time for her. We sat down at the bar and had that conversation that we should have had many times before.

"Why is it that you have never made a move on me? If I asked you to make love to me what would you say?"

I was speechless for a moment; I had waited for this for too long and here I finally was. The promise of a better tomorrow was finally here, life would finally make sense and that all so elusive peace would be ours. I looked at her, words threatening to fail me and I said

"I like to think that I know you better than most and to be honest I never could tell what you thought of me."

"Then maybe you don't know me that well" she said.

"I have felt this way for a long time but there was always this thing between us but fuck it! I love you, absolutely."

Then Mark walked over with a couple of B52s and made the strangest toast ever. "Here's to a life unfulfilled" he said as we did our shots and proceeded to get drunk. We ended up driving to the beach with Jorge to watch the sunrise and she slept peacefully on the way back.

We had our last meal together the following Monday, I asked to see her so that I could say all these things while I was alcohol free. She died two weeks later and took my dreams with her. Everything in my life now begins and ends with her, I am fated to tell the world stories and deep down all I want to say is that I met a girl and she still lives in me.