I met her through a friend called Helen Obuya a very noble lady , a shemeji, and apparently my lil bra’s ex girlfriend. She had gone to visit her during the holidays.


Rosemary Nyambura Akumba.


A flawless beauty and the lady whom drove my grins all the way into smiles. And stole my attention off others girls. We were captains in our own love world, I was Captain Saf and she were Captain Nyash or Nyambu whichever suits you better. This names meant a lot to us, to me it meant that, there was no any other girl in the world apart from her, viceversa remained the truth until she moved to the capital, Nairobi city.


The city with lotsa people and of different walks of life. This Nairobi city which has displayed to me numerous and cute ladies, the likes of akina Cynthia Opiyo from Mathare and Diana Mwangi from Kasarani.

I’m not attracted to the pieces of meat dangling in response to measured strides as Cynthia walks-by. She smiles a lot. I’ve tried to caution her that no one smiles with an hungry man, but she’s adamant to my warnings.

As for Diana no! not Diana at all, she’s a ‘dancer’, she’s a ‘singer’ she’s ‘everything’. She is a ‘poet’.

I’ve never found a particular reason why I’m not fond of people’s who think that they own everything.

Sometimes I think I’m insane thinking that we’re still together, because when I gaze at Cynthia and Diana, they don’t share anything at all from body features to the colours of their skin. Something that I found singly in one person, Captain Nyash.


The most part that I loved more was her natural long hair. Miss Akumba was aware of this, so she never shaved. Well if you’re a guy and you’re not attracted to anything on your partner then that’s not love. Girls fall for silly things like the way a guy talks.

Akumba’s daughter was attracted to my sincerity, who can measure sincerity for Peter’s sake. And of course whom in this world today resists the power of poetic lines. She couldn’t have been a character in any of my arts, if she wasn’t the closest being close to my heart. She was like blood to the walls of the veins.


I’ve written poems about her, and drawn inspiration from her. Given her a diary full of others too. I dont know if she still reads them, or she has met some guy who perfectly draws her naked. She’s too much into arts, she was a great dancer too and she still dances. I think she replaced her habit of reading poetry, with athletics. You can’t miss to see her at Nyayo Stadium. I know she’s not pleased with the tone in my poems anymore, but with the budding striding steps after the other, athleticism. Actually poetry is boring if you don’t understand the message in it. Maybe she never understood that I loved her, despite of the longer expressions. I loved her w/o any influence of liquor.


Rosemary Nyambura Akumba a.k.a Mellawine, wherever you’re in Nairobi, know that I’ve never regretted or am I planning to regret meeting you. Even after my death. I think I’ll still go with this sentiments deep down into my grave.

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