LOVE IS LIKE DANDRUFF

Her collar is always flecked with white dust from her head, every so often she pats her head like there is no brain inside and more flakes fall out. She also fidgets a lot, it’s like the dandruff that torments her head has found its way into her blood stream. She walks over and whispers something in your ear, you don’t hear it because all you can sense is her. She smells like a laundry basket, onions and for the first time you are aware that dandruff has a smell. She giggles and you giggle back even if you haven’t heard a word, the burden of false laughter is lighter than her unbearable presence close to your ear. She walks back to the spot near the stove where she was fidgeting earlier and you breathe again. While she talks, your eyes wander and the land on your thighs where fresh white flakes have found a place to rest. The same white flakes on her collar and the same white flakes white flakes you wake up to in your bed. Your eyes wander up and meet her fidgeting inattentively while she cooks dinner and bile rises up your throat.

“Mike called when I was at work, he says he needs to talk to me about a new deal.” Your lie comes automatically. New deal always translates into new money and she cannot argue with that. She blinks at you without a word, looking for truth in the lines of your face. “I will be back soon Baby, I think I will nibble on something when I am with Mike so don’t leave any food for me. Though it does smell delicious.”

“Sure thing Baby,” She totters over to you, leans in on her tiptoes and hugs you, for a second you feel guilty for running away but the evening breeze drifts by and carries her scent into your nostrils and reminds you why you are leaving.

When she says baby it sounds like a title instead of an endearing word. You dust off her super dandruff as you walk down the street, leaving more of her behind with each step and once you are sure she’s off you completely you start plotting your evening. Mike is away on a work trip so though you don’t like to drink alone you walk to the nearest pub. Destiny takes pity on you and your phone vibrates.

“Hi,” Nyumbu’s voice is like sugar and though her number isn’t saved anymore, you know it is her.

“Hi,” Your throat constricts and that’s all you can manage. It is muscle memory, everything about her stands you at attention. She knows it almost as well as your body does. In the days handed to her by destiny, Nyumbu made you thirsty, hungry and then sleepy after you were satisfied.

“I went to Mika Hotel for a workshop and all I could think of while I was there was you and the naughty things we did in room 111.” Each word is coated with memories, confidence and more sugar.“Those aren’t thoughts to have during a workshop,” You add a nervous laugh for friendly spice.

“Fine, I will confess that I think of you often. Are you happy?” She says.

Even in the darkness you can spot a flake of dandruff on you lapel, you quickly brush it off. Are you happy?

“I am okay Nyumbu. I am okay.” It is the most honest answer you manage.

“I love how you say my name, where are you Joseph? You sound like you are outside.”

“I am outside, taking an early evening stroll to the pub.”

“I know how you hate drinking alone, come over and let’s drink together. I miss you sometimes.”

Nyumbu is an attentive woman, immediately her lips form the word together you remember what it was like to be around her all the time. She latched on to every word you spoke, cooked your favourite meals which you devoured together before you devoured each other. Your skin would smell like her jasmine scented perfume long after you left her arms. She was that woman that left her red finger nails stuck in your memory and the more you thought about her, the more you wanted to see them grazing your skin.

“Same address?”

“Yes, I haven’t moved.”

A silence passes over you and you hear the subliminal message, she hasn’t moved on.

“See you in ten minutes.”

“Okay.”

Energy like you haven’t felt in a year courses through your veins. The kind of energy that makes you question everything. Why haven’t you felt this excited to go home to the woman you chose? You dismiss the question because in the moment you are not really interested in the answer. You pass through the Super Store on your way to Nyumbu’s and go straight to the personal hygiene aisle. It boggles your mind that the store attendants keep the condoms and lube there. Nyumbu likes everything that smells like strawberries so your eyes search the aisle hoping to land on the familiar packaging. Instead the land on a large unfamiliar blue bottle. It is the words ‘dandruff buster’ that call you. You pick up the bottle and skim the ingredients and instructions. Ayurveda is usually a good thing. The woman on the blue bottle looks fresh and happy so you decide to buy the dandruff busting shampoo. You pick up a pack of strawberry flavoured condoms and head to the checking counter.

The cashier looks at you with laughter in her eyes. You don’t blame her, you would equally be suspicious of a nervous looking man buying condoms and dandruff busting shampoo at the same time. She rings up the bill and it’s high, turns out it costs a lot to bust out dandruff. You have a note in your wallet that can get you one item but not both. You ask the cashier if they swipe VISA and she shakes her head because they don’t. Impatience starts to build up in her eyes as you decide between the condoms and the shampoo. The dilemma finally ends and your decision gives you a new revelation.

She pats her head while opening the door and though you can’t see them, you can imagine the dandruff flakes falling onto the floor. You ignore her hug and walk past her.

“Baby, I cannot stand any more dandruff in this relationship.” You slam the big blue bottle on the counter and pray with all your heart that the dandruff buster works because Nyumbu is angry and she won’t warm her bed in vain ever again.