Sunday Sounds

One Sunday, 15 years ago, my grandfather song of life stopped. He had lived a whole life, but on this day, his heart stopped beating. His life left him. The sound of his life was no more.

Since then, I like filling my Sunday’s with quietness. Only football or some worship songs infiltrate this.

I do not own a TV set. But I have books and a kickass book shelf- not that it matters, because I can as well put my books in a bucket; but I thought you should know, because a gift is as good as the packaging. 

I have read most of the books, some of them I will never read, but they are good for social capital. Someone comes home, checks out my collection and says, “Wow, Wahinya, you mean you have Good to Great?” And I will be like, ‘yeah, yeah, it is a fantastic book. I have read it several times.” Haha. I will be lying because I rarely read business books. I find them pretentious. People who write them have not even managed a cattle dip yet they give what they call ‘nuggets’ on how one can build a fortune 500 business.

So, on Sundays, I read. I read books. I read magazines. I read articles. Ory Okollo has fantastic articles she shares every Sunday, ‘Sunday reads.’ You may want to follow her on twitter. Such articles bring the world to you. They open your mind. And add depth to your life and writing.  I read in darkness. I love doing things in darkness. I love talking to people in the dark-when it just your words filling the space. Your souls connect in darkness. I also love driving at night. I think darkness blocks out everything and gives you time with your thoughts. Darkness is great unless it is forced. of On such day, the only thing that permeates my peace are sounds coming from my neighbors houses.

My perfect romantic night is a stroll in the darkness with a skill full stars. Unlike the moon, the stars are not intrusive.

See, in our apartment- not a flat, an apartment because our corridor is bigger than some killeleshwa kitchens. It’s a village apartment. It can easily pass off as a town apartment.  In fact, they are called ‘kwa muthungu’ because they were the first of their kind there- we have all manner of sounds. Sounds tell you who people are. Sounds give you a glimpse into people’s lives without them opening their doors. Sounds are a bit too revealing- like a plunging neckline.

There’s this guy who always watches Churchill show with their volume at maximum. The idiot on the front row. So high that I can hear Churchill’s heartbeat. It beats me why someone would watch a comedy show in high volume. Jokes are better ingested in low tones. Only the laughter should be louder- that makes the people around envious. Have you ever been heartbroken only to see a couple having a time and the girl giggling the whole night? That is how comedy is meant to be enjoyed. Listen in low tone. Laugh very hard. That way, people will think you have a great sense of humour and you are one happy person that they want to be part of your life.

Then there are those guys who are troubled. The weird ones. The guys who plays loud music on a Sunday evening when everyone wants to relax. Even God wants to relax on a Sunday even after hearing the cries of His people all day. These are the guys I assume sit on the speakers when they go to a clubs. Their life is filled with noises.  How else can you explain why they play loud music on a Sunday evening, unless they are troubled?  I must admit, they sometimes play some very nice reggae jams. But when reggae is loud, it becomes noise. I am told it is worse if you are high. The normally do it mid-month. Never at the end or beginning of the month because they are not home. They do it when they are broke. They do it because they miss the noise. They do it to spite those of us who are always home at 8:30 on Fridays. They do it because they do not know how to handle peace.

Then there those guys who have loud guests. Who visits on Sunday evenings? They must be the NYS guys who wake up at 10 am. These are the guests who leave all their shoes outside the door that you have to jump over them when going to your house. Guys who wear ugly boots that scare away the children. Cryptic boots. They (guests) laugh uncontrollably and loudly. And even when it is time to leave, they will make sure that everyone knows they visited and are driving. Those are the guys who shouts from the parking lot;

“Baba Kim, nimewacha funguo ya gari yangu kwa meza?” Before they host answers, they say,

“Aaaah, pole, nimekumbuka. Nilipea Mark.”

“Toto, fungua gari twende home.”

If you visit people, keep it low. Other people do not want to know how your latest trip was. How you got wasted.

But the most interesting ones are those one of neighbors with heavy steps. Those ones who walk like there is a tornado coming. I have this neighbor who’s very well endowed. She really has some heavy steps. It must be the weight she is carrying. I do not need to see her; but I know when she’s coming or leaving.

Then there are those guys who are always ‘fighting’ with the padlock-like it is a new one. They take forever opening doors. And when they do, they bang the door. Those are the guys who never pull seats in hotels. If they did, they would break the seats, or the girl.

But the most annoying ones are the ones that talk on phone while drunk or nursing a hangover while standing on their balcony, in shorts, rubbing their alcohol induced potbelly. Most of the time, they are lying. Lying about where they live, what they drink, their business deals, and even their sex escapades. They are like ‘Jonny, Marya alikuwa huku jana,’ You know they are lying because you watched football with him yesterday. Also, you have never seen a girl come out of their house. They always come home with a bag of chips and roasted chicken. Alone.

Next time, if you are not one of those and are home on a Sunday evening, turn down the volume, switch off the lights, and listen.

Happy weekend, and keep it low.

Image source: www.pond5.com