Three Figure Confession- Part Three

 

Three Figure Confession- Part One

Three Figure Confession- Part Two

Father, somehow I have learnt from the school of life, if you really need something and you are determined enough, then nature always conspires to give you your desire. A man like you would call that God. Well, there is this other part when you do not actually need something at all, when you are just minding your business and then BAM! You get text saying that ‘I’m pregnant’. A man like me calls that Satan.

 

 

After I started writing, I built a brand for myself and many knew dennispeters from dennispetersblog. With such kind of an advantage, girls came easy. I quickly learnt the art of confidence and luring a girl to come over for the weekend. It did not take long to get Cheryl to notice me. We walked on the green gardens of Dedan Kimathi University at night and told all kinds of stories, she told me about her Ex-boyfriends who unsurprisingly were rich and older. I was not surprised that she had fallen prey to the rich and elite hyenas of the town just like all the others but I did not care. Cheryl was my redemption, she gave me peace and let me play with her hair. Beggars are not choosers, I had to be contented.

 

 

God was faithful, I asked him for just a girl to spend a night with, and instead he gave me a girl to spend my life with. Cheryl was studying nursing in Dedan Kimathi University. Regularly when we met, she was in those long white coats they have in labs. She was not invested much in her course though, her desire was modelling. Every weekend she had a place to go, somewhere to be and a story for me whenever it ended. I love stories father, and even besides the fact that it is almost an hour since I started telling you mine, more than telling, I love hearing stories. All kinds of stories. It seemed Cheryl had just found all the right buttons to punch, therefore she spoke and I listened.

 

 

She told me about boot camps. You probably do not know anything about a boot camp but just like you guessed, in boot camp there is a lot of naked booty. Boot camps are held the week before a beauty pageant. The models go for a retreat at some expensive hotel both male and female models and they have good food, gym, good time and new seasonal boyfriends as I came to learn much later.

 

 

In one of those events, Cheryl met Mr. Paul. Mr. Paul worked in the county government offices when he was not busy chasing young girls. He drove a Toyota KCE X-Trail during weekends and drunk Johnny Walker Red Label at White Rhino’s lounge during lunch breaks. I never met Mr. Paul. They had an arrangement with Cheryl, my Cheryl, which involved money and sex between the two of them therefore none worth my apprehension. I was not brought to the light about this arrangement until earlier today when I took Cheryl to Outspan Hospital to deliver our new baby girl when she got all teary and mushy.

 

 

Cheryl had a confession. There was a chance the baby was not mine. In fact there was also a chance that the baby was not Mr. Paul’s but I was not listening to that when she lay there on the delivery bed telling me of the four guys who could be the father to our Daisy. I had named her Daisy, Daisy my little pink flower. That did not matter, then I was looking at my life for the past nine months since Cheryl announced to me through a text that she was pregnant. I received the news with a confused mind and a disenchanted soul. How I quit school to make money for our daughter and her lovely mother with gorgeous hair and a skin that reflected the sun like a silver mirror or the moon during Ramadhan. Looking back, she never said, ‘we are pregnant’, she said, ‘I am pregnant’ and I just assumed that I was the father.

 

 

So now father, my confession starts after her confession to me earlier today. After I had heard enough from her, I left my sinful angel on the delivery bed and started walking towards here. On the way here I might have burned Cheryl’s stuff and mauled a Toyota KCE X-Trail. Regrettably, I might have also buried my very large kitchen knife in the throat of a county government worker who usually have shots of Johnny Walker Red Label during lunch breaks at White Rhino’s exquisite Lounge. More than that, I might have painted the exorbitant couches at White Rhino with the distinct color of blood.

 

 

These are my sins father and most of them happened today so there might also be police sirens outside this church hunting for a certain blogger from Nyeri town. Police cannot get me out from confession so let us make them wait a little longer.

 

 

Forgive me father for these are my transgressions.

 

Feature Image by Mukiri Gitiri

 

The Writer:

InstagramCapture_51ae2f42-6453-4b96-839b-5e65680bd0c1
Dennis Peters

Author: Dennis Peters

When I was I younger, my mother told me not to do drugs. She said something about addiction and it sounded so distant. I never did drugs, instead, I read and wrote and I still got addicted. Now I am here, and you are here too because we have to be here and there is nothing we can do about it. | ©Dennis Peters.

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