Mini Monday

I’m sure you have one of those outfits you bought just because you thought they looked nice. Not necessarily nice on you but good to look at, like a wall hanging or a dried flower. Last Monday was one of those days that won’t decide what kind of weather it wants to have. First there was the dripping rain with dark low clouds, then some sun, then clouds covered the sun… minutes later, the sun was brightly shining. When I removed my overcoat, it started to rain some transparent streaks through the brightness of the sun! You must imagine how hard it was to decide what to wear. If I have problems on a normal sunlit day, how about a crazy weathered Monday?
Marco tells me that in Germany they say-der April macht waser will-the April has its own will. April is over now and to me, May is just a few days slotted into the year. So I’m now thinking of July, when fog hits the atmosphere like smoke from a faulty exhaust pipe.
At first, I had planned to wear jeans and a normal sleeved top layered with several under- things; a scarf and a warm jacket. Then I realized that the dirt on the jean I was planning to rewind was carrying was too visible even to my roommate, who says she can’t see without her glasses. Squinting up from her bed, she said “aaai Cecilia, wacha kuniaibisha”-Cecilia, stop embarrassing me! My black pants were the next choice, but I was keeping those to wear from Wednesday onwards. Don’t ask, it’s an arrangement I have. I do not wear bright things on Mondays as a rule, so my colored pants were out. I looked at the skirts…. nothing... I hate skirts! Nevertheless, I keep buying them “Kama nimetumwa.” -as if I on a mission to get hawkers out of their misery. I bought one like a month ago but wore it only once. It’s insanely short! I have been trying to sell it but my roommate says, “No, that skirt suits you alone.” It’s a cool shade of green, flares out a bit and is made of hard material like the one used for school shorts but harder. It looks very simple and that’s what attracted me to it.
My cousin is on attachment near Lake Turkana. He is a reporter. So, he invited me sometime ago but told me,- pack light these people don’t spend too much on covering. A belt of beads around the hips is enough. In fact, if you come here dressed up you might seem offensive, as we want to be modest, pack light. Therefore, what did I do other than run to Ngara to pick up skirt ya mia (100 shillings skirt)? Gideon, my good friend went with me coz it was after class and he happens to go the same way. That’s when I picked up that embarrassing skirt which makes me feel as if my knees are swollen from my bird’s view. Gideon said, “Yeah, yeah, that’s perfect.” The trader had similar thoughts, yet when the ‘kanju’ was spotted, he fled and left me with the skirt. When he came back, I just couldn’t say no.
Therefore, I wore the skirt to Lake Turkana. I was feeling very strange because all other ladies my age were wearing those ‘Garissa lodge’ style skirts and the only leg they were showing was their ankles, which were circled with anklets, but I walked head high with a camera (my cousin’s) slung across my neck and I was a reporter through and through. Coming back, I dumped it at the bottom of my luggage but remove it severally to look at it and think how it would look in a picture.
I walked out the room in a green mini, the size of a tennis skirt, mid length boots and some top and jacket and my trademark weighty bag.
That Monday I returned to the room, after reaching the gate, to ask my roommate “Are you sure it’s not too short?” .When I played hockey in high school, the coach insisted on very short and pleated skirts. Therefore, it was essential that the bikers were of a good color. Then you did not mind sauntering across the field bordered with schoolboys from eight different schools. That day I was tempted to put on knee length bikers.
The front part of the skirt wanted to make contact with the back piece, and I felt very funny and flighty. Especially when I couldn’t find my school I.D. in my dark bag and had to stand for five more seconds at the school entrance to find my wallet while a queue of students behind me, and the coffee sippers at the cafeteria in sight and I was imagining the wind coming and blowing up my stupid skirt.
I survived the day but at the mess ,Parki,Parklands Campus, a classmate called me princess, nodding towards my skirt and it felt weird, but I later went to the house to change into my normal black hipsters and canvas. The skirt,… I’ll hang it on one wall where I can pin my pictures I like to it.

May 17th 07