Urggh! Another Monday! She turns lazily on her bed, fixing that tiny space on the curtain where the light is getting in from. It doesn’t have to be that rude, the light, she knows…it is another Monday, another week. She sighs. Then sighs again. I mean was this the definition of humanity? Who even came up with these sleeping and waking up schedules? She knows she is very useful in the night. She would rather sleep through the day and avoid interacting with other humans. She kicks her blue duvet off her and rolls just a little to reach to her phone on the bedside stand. She has a routine and like every millennial, her phone should be the first stop before anything. She has to reply to texts from last night and early morning, oh and tune in to her favorite work out Instagram live. It’s weird how she watches workout videos while on her bed. Millennials!
She grabs that baggy, long, grey cotton t- shirt from yesterday and clean white panties and lazily trots barefoot into the kitchen. Her house is gleamed with spotless silence. I mean she lives alone; she has for the past six months. She is a young woman, still with the sweetness of girlhood yet stepping with confidence into the shoes of womanhood. She turns on the gas and sighs again. She sometimes hates it there, in her house but again it is one space she is proud she got. It speaks of who she is, artistically on how she views the world. She thought of getting a pet cat but everyone discouraged her that it might starve in her house. Chuckles. She picks her tiny metallic sufuria, fetches water from the kitchen taps and puts it on the light cooker, pours a handful of coffee and waits for it to brew in silence. Breakfasts are always decaffeinated coffee, naturally she will have three cups before she gets about her day and maybe two cups in the middle of the day, a total of five cups. She thinks of frying an egg or two, but second thoughts it. It is too much work.
His message notification appears on her phone when she caterpillars to her bedroom with her black coffee in hand. She looks forward to bae’s messages every morning. It is like her daily bread. ‘’Hey good morning baby girl…you awake? I’m already at work grinding.” She smiles for the first time. She loves those texts. They make her feel like she is not alone. She replies. He would probably see her text after an hour or two. His at work. She understands.
She turns on her laptop, her day has finally begun, she hopes today is better; that the week will be better than the week before. This job-hunting thing has been draining on her. She has been through all the stages of job loss. From being in denial, to scared, to devastated, to worry, to hopelessness and finally to acceptance. As a young woman she is learning how to become a strong woman, to become a person who is able to take care of herself and others. Yet there is so much in society and in the media, advertising especially, giving the notion of ‘perfection’ it becomes very challenging to develop naturally, to let her passions explode, to have real confidence and self-belief.
Her emails are just more adverts, nothing to do with the interview she had two weeks ago. She has been waiting on their feedback like the second coming of Jesus. All the time hoping they would reach out to her and tell her she got the job. She has written hundreds of application letters for the past seven months. Out of those hundreds, only about fifteen have given feedback, four have called her for interviews. She never attended the first interview. She felt like it was a scam. I mean which interview take place at Nairobi Industrial Area? Nairobbery, they call it. The second interview was awesome, she thought she had killed it but it’s been two months since. No feedback. The third interview was superb and she was confident about it but unfortunately the organization lacked funds for that position. The fourth interview now, she is still waiting on the feedback.
She scrolls through her emails for more job opportunities she can apply for. She has always been a girl unburdened. Asked to achieve what had appeared impossible at first, yet after countless small steps, she always accomplishes her tasks. What others had called impossible; she had done. This was her greatest strength if anyone ever asked. Another text pops up on her screen. It is her friend. An invite to a party later in the evening. She wishes this invite came in her younger days when her knees were supple and her eyes telescopic, and her life was a carte blanche- complete freedom to act as one wishes. But she needs to get a job and pay bills. Besides she preferers spending time on her bed in her hoodie or t-shirt, her white panties with her cup of black coffee spiked with some whiskey and her laptop. She declines the invite.
It is evening again, the rains pour. A sense of cleanliness caresses the atmosphere, washing away all impurities. Soon darkness will set in, she makes some cereal and milk, showers and brushes her teeth. She lazily walks to her room, and for a few minutes lets her knees hug the cold floor. She prays. Her day has come to an end. She gets back into her blue duvet and secretly loathes for another day. She closes her eyes and waits for tomorrow, that maybe, hopefully someone will see her application email, that someone will see she is the missing puzzle in their team or she will get that interview feedback she has been waiting for, or just something to show her that tomorrow is always better.