Pistis Children’s Home; NaksVegas Episode 2.

There is everything wrong with being vulnerable with dudes. Okay, let us put it this way. Have you ever watched that series that took you off your feet and crucified your emotions? Love crafted in an amazing literature and captured in a contemporary reality that your eyes started twerking in their sockets? Your eyes start rolling on rails of nails? The eyeballs gushing out hot tears as you appreciate literature in a single but composite site. No? Okey it never happened to me either, but it happened to my friend Nicolas Antutu. I didn’t like the scene. I wished it were the slender Anastacia weeping over too much of a murder mystery. But watching Niko cry, I almost committed suicide. I didn’t want to be alive with guys who watch a series and weep all over like housewives.

Niko had visited my house early February and we discussed matters of vast significance as we sipped on our whiskey from the stunning mounds of Italy. February is the month I sold my laptop so I had some coins to trade for whiskey. Niko was already high when he got to my house and dictated that, unless I have something against his happiness, I allow a series accompany his whiskey. He wanted to watch ‘Bitten’. Bitten is a romantic thriller where the main character, Helena, is a wolf, the only she-wolf amongst the three dominant parks.

When Helena threatened Jeremy, Antutu started crying. I started laughing. Helena swore to kill for Creg; her sound accompanied by compelling and obviously very effective sounds, stopping between the utterances to breathe love and bravely, right out of her Nostrils- and Antutu started blinking faster. When she gets angry, cursing under a poor Mexican accent, Antutu lost the grip. Hot tears rolled down his chubby cheeks, right before Helena warned Jeremy that she would not only kill as a human but will turn into a wolf if need be. Creg must be protected…! Niko tried sipping on his whiskey. His eyes were all watery and filled to the brim. I cackled harder. Then I laughed my ass off.

Honestly, I didn’t want to laugh at him, but what the hell could I have done? Hand him some wipes and promise that Helena will be fine? Pat Antutu’s shoulder and console him for being too vulnerable? Nope! When a black Nigga cries over a series, the least you can do is let him be if you are saved. I am super naughty, so I laughed. I swore I would never cry out of emotions like Nicholas Antutu. That remain on top of my list of laws to follow to be an African man. No crying over a movie. Period!

My Antutu moment

However, my Antutu moment was in reality, more compelling and pined for more tears. Throughout my moment, I was begging for peace. I could have broken any nose that dared laugh at my naked soul. I wished to be alone as I sailed on a matrix of emotions, hard to understand and ultimately not controllable. My Antutu moment happened in NaksVegas, when I met her. There at Pistis children’s home, I really wanted to cry. And I surely needed it.

I gazed as she narrated her ordeal. I just stood in awe and admired her. There, more than 6062 feet above sea level, I sniggered as she told her legend. I fell to her charm in that blue NaksVegas morning sky. If it were my engineer brother reporting this, he would write… Ambrose stood on 0°16′59”under 36°04′00″ C, and he will toss the paper and say, “But I really like this place” as If you know what those damn numbers mean.

In the dusty Nakuru soil, I studied her beautiful face, matched with her self-assured tiger ears; ears ready to pop in aptitude in case you said crap she didn’t like. Her lips would rise in a sarcastic mirth every time she thought I was too dim-witted for my age. The bowl made by the viaduct of her nose, as it dieted and coupled the roof of her lips… all magnified as she laughed. Her cheeks were full, joined by a bridge of watery lips. Her face was perfect, and she knew it. Her name was Claire.

I felt my Antutu century as she narrated of how fate tore her parents from the belly of the world, making her an orphan at the age of six. I could have abducted her and start taking care of her for the rest of my life. Her memories never failing her, she recalled how she suffered, after burying the two coffins at the age of six. Her parent’s bodies in the caskets, buried on the ground, she told of how she cursed when everyone buried her hopes. All swallowed by the grave in one day, in a single hit. After an year of misery, a new dawn came, Pistis children’s home took her in, and saved her from herself.

Clarie was saying something more. I was still stuck on why they had killed her mother.

Clarie and I have been chatting for more than ten minutes now. She is explaining the several rules of the orphanage.

This is good Ambrose… She was saying

Sure, this place is cool

I don’t mean the place, I mean this!

I looked at her outstretched little arms, encompassing all the USIS members. For a moment, I saw what Clarie was seeing, a loving group of University students, with hearts big enough to spend a day with orphans. Looking around I could not help but notice the awkward sitting positions. Lynne was sitting on a school table, a table she had used to serve biscuits to the kids. Her humongous power assets overflowing on the edge of the table and a dozen kids blocking my view… I forgave them. Purity and Miriam were busy, sharing chocolates to the enchanting kids. Kibe, a little boy with curled hair and eyebrows like mine was asking Purity why she was so beautiful… like, is it possible to be that beautiful? Dan said that Purity is a host of a certain show in a certain Local TV station. I am yet to know which station that is.

I could see guys watch in admiration as the USIS ladies made the approaches; initiating, powerful, joyful, yet emotional chats with the kid. I almost swallowed my throat when Anastacia hugged the soiled Johnson. If you know Anastacia, you surely understand. She reminded me how I shared love unconditionally when tipsy. The girls were drunk in love for the kids. And we were all scared. The guys stood on the sidelines, tongues glued between our jaws; Watching desperately as USIS beautiful girls hugged the soiled little sons and daughters.
You people chose to come and just stay with us, Why us? This is so good Ambrose. Clarie asked again.

She was nine but with the conviction of a fifty old. I suddenly felt awesome, her words rang again. We had chosen to be there. We sat in our meeting one day and decided to ferry our young souls to Pistis Children’s home. Sometimes doing good is not a coincidence, it is a personal choice. That quote from mother Teresa has never been more applicable. Goddy, my editor who was also in the trip can affirm I wasn’t idle. Actually, I was mortifying under deadlines, but we just decided to call it gangrene and visit an orphanage. Who does that? Aren’t we just awesome? I had never felt better.

Ambrose, God will surely bless you people. I believed her; I relied on her every word. Claire was still speaking.

There is a moment for every man. An instant that wrecks through a man’s body, cutting on the edges back and forth, disarming you, letting you down. An intense feeling that causes a hormone imbalance in a man, forcing hot tears down your cheeks, little hisses out of your lips and sends your arm to cover your mouth, which is now wide open in awe.

All of a sudden, a victim of this antithesis instant misses his mother. Missing her little painful ear scrub and nostril peeps. You want her to tell right from wrong, you want her to force you chant the commandments and explaining the consequences. You want her to remind you everything she taught you, because you trust yourself no more. Just an hour ago, you felt so brave and complete, marching on the hip of Africa like the lone soldier you are. Brave and plucky, Cocky and bold yet right now you feel weaker for a twig.

As we left the orphanage, girls had to be torn from the kids, both parties with watery eyes. USIS members parted with expensive jewelers and engagement rings as a token and a promise that, with your support and in collaboration with HYeCAD Kenya we will re-visit the children’s home.
We left with soiled clothes but cleansed souls. And out of the petite savings we decided to take one for the road as we concluded the Charity circuit. At that night, Diez, the USIS chairperson bought Five Smirnoff while I slept on a chair. Collo went missing for four hours and Welli gave his phone to a stranger. We surely felt philanthropic.

Grand Finale coming soon, NaksVegas Episode 3. If you don’t know what USIS members do on a night out, that will be just for you.

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