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| A matatu at Migori town bus park |
Today
in the mat a beautiful woman without a bra sat next to me.
I
was traveling from Awendo to Migori when this yellow yellow bra-less woman,
with breasts the size of water melons sat next to me.
This
is how I knew she was bra-less, apart from seeing her bare huge nipple (it was
a breast), surrounded by dark areola.
Yep,
that kinda breasts that ain't shy and looong like a sleeve of a sweater.
They
were haughty, youthful and proud like a minarate on a mosque. Men will know,
the pair of breasts you meet in a crowd and the nipples shout:
"No
collision! Lanes mate. Lanes, as you pitch your nether tents."
They
were succulent. Sexy. Appetising and nutritious (the last two as source of
infant food).
Making
young babies moisture their dry, cracked lips with saliva
It
(the huge nipple, stay with me) was peeping from a loose blouse's button.
I
peeped once. Savoured it. Was it twice? I dunno, but not more than four times
(I have manners).
Then
I cough, soundlessly and meaninglessly like what you get when a knife
slaughters a chicken's throat.
Actually,
it was my three years old daughter, Manuella who alerted me. (Now you see, i
was innocent) She was seated on my laps, sucking a lollipop.
When
the lady tried to be friendly to her she recoiled, hugged me and burrowed her
face in my chest.
"Huyu
mtoto wako anaogopa watu? Mrembo unaitwa nani baby?" She asked. Manuella
buried her face further.
When
she tried to touch her, my shy daughter started crying. The kinda warning cry
babies make before the wailer.
Then
after a minute or two (Manuella noticed the lady was paying her fare) she moved
closer to my left ear, cupped her hands around it and whispered:
"Mannu
(that is how we call each other in intimate father-daughter talk) nyonyo ya
auntie iko nje....."
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