PIKELELA GUTYUNGWA MEMOIRS

  Dear Mirror! I shall not forget the day my mother introduced us to each other. Your looks gave me one hell of a fright: we looked too identical! I almost jumped out of my baby skin. Come on now my friend, you could have felt the same way as the baby I was inside! Stop giggling and listen to me. Among all the friends I have had in this world, nobody can rival our friendship, living or dead. Every time I walk into my room, there you are: still smiling at me sweetly after all these years. You have a true definition of reliable companionship. I do not know how you do it! Occasionally, I left my room to run errands, work, or visit the city or church. No matter what I do and wherever I go, you are always there waiting for me like the good old friend that you have always been. I see you in my hotel rooms, and even when I am visiting relatives and friends. Your omnipresence is mind boggling . I see your face painted all over my landscape, there is no hiding from your shar...

These Streets! One cannot forget these intimidating up and down stares furiously targeting the good citizens of this town. Who are these people, these faceless bullies and where did they come from? We used to fill and occupy these streets from corner to corner and screamed all day long as kids. Hey. We feared nothing at all because these streets belonged to us. We will not allow our streets to be deserted in broad daylight as if we’re back to pandemic days! My mother and father were born and met on these streets. I lived under their shadows after they introduced me to these same streets. I grew up on these streets, I know and speak the language of these streets and unreservedly own these streets. These streets gifted me my place in the sun and all the wokeness that comes with my birthright. I wrote these verbs, prose, and verbiage for you because I can.  To remind all and sundry that Pikelela left his footprints on these timeless streets. Yep, these streets are mine, and I own the ...