Insight of a Kenyan Girl

The one thing I feared most in life finally happened. Isn’t it strange how the universe seems to play cruel games, finding a way to bring us face-to-face with that which we most dread? The realization that I am, after all, not in control, that the world is just a stage on which I am a mere actor—this truth has finally dawned on me. And the culprit behind this revelation? A man.

I’ve never been one to believe in love—not because I hadn’t been shown affection, but because something within me has always resisted it. Maybe it’s how my mind is wired, or maybe it’s because I’ve never been truly taught how to let go and trust. But then, of course, I met my downfall, the one who could unravel everything.

He wore a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and white sneakers—a look so simple yet so perfectly him that I couldn’t help but notice him. I had seen him before, but I never truly paid attention to how well he carried himself. Something in the way he moved, the way he interacted with the people around him—it intrigued me. But it wasn’t until that night that I really saw him.

He was sitting with his friends, exchanging casual banter and sipping on a drink. It was as though the very atmosphere of the club had conspired with his presence. My friend led us to their table, and from that moment, my gaze never left him. When we made eye contact, his smile was disarming, almost like he knew I had been watching.

The introduction was quick, our friends already acquainted, but we were the new faces in the mix. And for some inexplicable reason, I ended up seated right next to him. In that moment, I could almost hear the universe laughing at me, for it was clear I was about to be drawn into something I could neither understand nor escape.

He didn’t say much at first. He listened intently, offering only the occasional word in response, but it was clear from the way his friends treated him that he was the quiet leader of the group. He fit perfectly into the circle, almost as if he had been designed for this moment. But there was something I noticed that gave me pause—his smile, though charming, didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was something there, an unreadable layer that hid behind his otherwise perfect exterior.

I had spent so much of my life mastering the art of reading people, yet here I was, unable to decipher him. That baffled me. He must have sensed my attention, because he turned to me and said, “Hello,” and in that moment, the walls I had carefully built around myself began to crumble. What began as a simple exchange soon spiraled into something deeper—a conversation that felt like it could stretch on for days without ever tiring.

We connected, effortlessly, and I found myself intrigued. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been so drawn to someone, and I was acutely aware that I was falling for someone I didn’t fully understand. He was everything I hadn’t expected: intelligent, composed, confident, and yet there was a darkness beneath it all that made him even more fascinating. I began to realize that I was, to my surprise, a sucker for intelligent men.

We continued to talk, to text, and before long, a routine had developed. Each conversation, each message, felt like a tether pulling me closer to him. I had no idea how I had managed without him before. But then came the night that would change everything.

We were hanging out, like we often did, and as I was about to leave, he pulled me close and kissed me—hard. And I didn’t pull away. My heart raced, my mind went blank, and when I finally stumbled down his stairs, I felt like I had been knocked off my feet. That was the moment we crossed the line. That kiss, though seemingly simple, changed everything between us.

We didn’t label it—there was no need for labels. We just existed in that space, enjoying each other’s company without the weight of expectations. But it didn’t take long for complications to arise. Our connection became a weakness for both of us, though neither of us dared to admit it. We were too scared of love, too afraid of what it would mean. And so, when we realized we had already fallen, our instinct was to run. And so, we did.

Now, here I am, watching him move on, and I realize how hard I fell. It feels like my heart is still in the process of catching up, yet here he is, already moving forward without hesitation. It’s strange how life works—how we can pour everything into someone, only for them to walk away when it gets too real.

But maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. Maybe the universe is playing its game, after all. And so, I move forward too. We both do. The world keeps spinning, with or without us.