Sonnet for matthew

© 2019 Victoria Muthiani

To Charlie, who taught me to write when I thought I

didn’t know how.

To Matthew, who still taught me things through his death.

To Sauda, who was my voice when I couldn’t speak and

taught me unconditional love,

But mostly to Asha, who showed me what resilience means.

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by Dayo Wekesa. Two hours after his body was taken to the

bathtub; the same place Matthew slit his wrists as a ritual

to release all the suffering in his life. When I reached

home, nobody noticed the ripe bruise on my eye. They were

all focused on my sister who sat weeping on the kitchen

floor. She once told me she was going to marry Matthew. The

memory laid between my eyes when I saw her quivering in my

immediately found it hard to swallow; harder than swallowing

the blood from Dayo’s punches. A pang of guilt knocked my

body. I rushed up to my room and rested my back on the door.

The only sound I heard was my heartbeat. It beat faster that

day, alongside a deep, dark, silent fear which was worsened

by the distant wailing of Matthew’s mother. Her wails were

reminiscent; when my uncle passed, all the women came

together and wailed. They wailed his death, wailed his

existence, wailed until the sky broke and the moon came down

swiftly. The day like Dayo’s punches was overwhelming. I

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“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” I replied sitting up to

“You heard about Matthew?” He pushed his spectacles

“There were people around his house,” I replied. “How is

she?”

“Not good,” he sighed. “She’ll spend the night in your

mum’s room.”

“Where will you sleep?” he shrugged and searched for the

answer outside my window.

miraculously shrink in size. It was Asha’s pain which

forever cursed the kitchen for me.

“Okay,” he said standing up.

His long spider legs strode towards the door and his

prickly fingers rested on the handle. He tuned back. His

lips pursed open as his tongue tasted for the right words. A

reserved gap was between us masked as silence.

“Goodnight,” he softly said. He closed the door behind

him.

I couldn’t go back to sleep. My mind was plagued by

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relationship with Matthew, seconds before they sent her to

days.

Her hair was neatly tucked like honey hidden in the

beehive of her scarf. She walked towards me with gaping arms

and held me. The lightness in my chest expanded. Stretched

in a rage of defiance against my bravado and beliefs, burst

forth in the material realm as tears, like tsunamis on the

verge of catastrophe.

Drowning in the wave of my emotions, I didn’t hear myself

blurt out, “He was going to be an engineer.”

My mum held me tighter. Squeezing me, hoping the sadness

would ooze out. With a lump in my throat, I swallowed my

emotions. I let my mum go and gazed at the ground as I did.

Her manicured fingers grazed my chin and raised it to the

light. She frowned.

“Oh no, who did this?” she asked.

Her thumb caressed my cheek and wiped away a tear. With

my hoarse voice, I gave her the same response I gave my dad.

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you?”

“Sleeping,” she peeked at the door afraid the ghost of

I nodded my head and smiled strictly from the corners of

my mouth. “Okay.”

“I love you,” she said kissing my forehead.

I went back to sleep hoping my dreams provide

illumination. I yearned to wake up with the understanding

that this was just a vivid nightmare. But that wasn’t the

wind. Matthew’s bronze hand was on her waist. He gripped

onto her like a sinking ship on water. With her head

burrowed into his neck, he whispered to her. His lips

faintly grazing her ear. Asha looked back at my lanky body

dressed in a suit and smiled. She stretched her hand

inviting me to grab it. Matthew took one glance at me,

murmured to Asha and plunged into the pool.

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A pair of feet belonging to my dad protruded from the sofa.

fragrance of Asha’s sorrow. A scent I wasn’t fond of, but

had to embrace in order to eat. She was seated on the

kitchen counter. Her long legs dangling on the ledge. Head

sunk down in melancholy. A hollow jar of peanut butter laid

open by her side. Her fingers nails were brown and sticky.

There was something absent in her being. A waifish part

happened to your face?” Her voice was raspy, as if tears

scratched her throat each time she tried to hold them back.

“I got punched,” I said, “by Dayo Wakesa.”

She bobbed her head. On an ordinary day, she would have

asked me what happened. I would have said that Dayo thought

I was trying to get with his girl. We would have then both

laughed because Dayo thought everybody was trying to get

with his girl.

“Asha…” I said as I tried to gather my thoughts, “I’m -”

She raised her palm, “I know.”

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of morning cereal. I gazed at Asha as I poured my milk. She

left the kitchen.

opened my bedroom door. I almost dropped my bowl when I saw

her. She avoided my eyes as she walked over to my bed,

laying on it in corpse pose. That’s when I understood what

she needed from me at that time. Sometimes all you need is

someone to hold you as you surrender in their arms. I

climbed on my bed and sat next to her. My feet softly grazed

Asha and I were left alone soon enough. She refused to

eat. Her body shrunk as she drew her knees to her chest.

Most of the time she sat on the sofa, watching me watch TV.

The doorbell rang around 4 o’clock. I ambled to the door

thinking one of our parents came home early, but it was

Sauda.

“You missed school today,” she said.

Her school uniform was disheveled. White blouse untucked.

Tie hanging near her collarbone.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” She dug into her

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out of the sofa.

sorry I am for your loss.”

them. “Thank you.”

“I tried calling you,” she said, “earlier.”

“Oh, my phone is off.”

“I’m sorry about yesterday too. I know it’s not enough to

apologise for my brother’s actions. Don’t take anything he

says seriously, he’s just…” her mind trailed off trying to

stretching, reaching for me like pythons of love. I couldn’t

let her near me. I dug my face into my shoulder.

“I need to be with my sister right now,” I said

“Yeah,” she replied, “call me if you need anything.”

“Sure,” I inconsistently smiled and closed the door.

I massaged my forehead and turned over to Asha who was

sleeping. Her eyes were softly closed like the dead, perhaps

happier in her dreams.

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My parents encouraged me to go to school the next day.

of Asha. I wonder if getting off work is the same as lying

following day. There were a lot of people who approached me

at school. I didn’t understand why they cared or how some

knew about my friendship with Matthew. Their apologies were

as fake as their smiles. Two girls came to me during lunch

and said they were there for me. I was perplexed because I

had never spoken to them before. My friend Paul sat gawking

acted as if nothing had changed. Sauda gave me her

persistent gaze each time I saw her and Dayo growled at me

every time I passed. School days flew past like this for a

week or so. They said I should be over his death by now.

Every lunch I stared at my food and felt as disgusting as it

looked. There were days when Sauda would try talk to me. I

avoided her, not because I was recovering from Dayo’s blow

but because I couldn’t face her.

I used to be the captain of the rugby team but refused to

attend the practice we had three times a week. My coach

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child and why she disliked the colour blue. It was

A man walked into the cafe and sat opposite Sauda and I.

wake. My gaze swung between him to Sauda. I tried to

understand his sadness, why he was there and what he felt as

he scrolled through his phone. Sauda noticed and looked

back.

“Do you know him?” she asked.

“No,” I replied, “not really.”

the most I felt in weeks. It was the kind of pace which

frightens as it shakes the moulds of your confinement. I

rose and wobbled towards him. He looked up at me puzzled as

he tried to put my face together.

“Hi,” I said, “I’m Maalik. You’re Charles.” My heart sank

and flew back into place. “I saw you at Matthew’s wake.”

“Oh yeah,” his voice was low. “I think I saw you there.

You looked a bit familiar.” I could tell he was lying. “How

did you know Matthew?”

“He was my sister’s boyfriend.”

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“No, I just wanted to come. I felt singular in our loss

He suddenly squinted his and nodded. He looked at me as

“How old are you?” he asked.

“15.”

He suddenly became introspective leaving us in an odd

silence.

“I should get back to my friend. It was nice meeting

you.”

continued talking.

In and out of Sauda’s monologues, I found Charles peeking

at us. Once he was done with his coffee, he came and stood

by our table.

“Maalik,” he said looking at me, “here’s my number.” He

glided his receipt towards me. “Call me if you ever need to

talk about our singularity, and tell Asha I said hi.”

He grinned and formally introduced himself to Sauda who

in turn did the same. When he left I flipped the receipt and

saw his phone number inked on it. Sauda smiled at me, not

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“Your father and I want you to take Asha outside.”

dog?”

each other outside. I just, worry about you two.”

She gave me a sheepish smile. I’m sure they didn’t make

the decision together, it was my mums solemn duty to deal

with the children. A few days earlier I saw her Google signs

of depression on her phone.

“When you’re not in school, you’re here cooped up in your

“Great!” she said jumping up. “Asha is waiting for you

downstairs. Come on, quick, get changed, nobody will know

you haven’t showered.”

She must have planned the whole thing last night. I

lazily changed my clothes and went downstairs to see Asha

and my mum watching me come down the stairs. My mum

practically pushed us out of the house. I sat on a ledge

outside the house and was followed by Asha, who showed no

interest in being outside. We did nothing but sit in

stillness and gaze into the street. My mum promptly came out

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go of her hand and carefully made my way to the shallow

leading to the kitchen window seal, followed by a water tank

to the roof. She instead sunk her gazed and treaded back to

the house.

I used to come here to think, separate myself from the

outside world. When I look beyond the horizon, I feel

connected to it all. I stopped coming when I joined the

rugby team. There’s something about school that keeps you

Charles’ number on it. I dug into it and removed them both.

In a trance-like state, I typed his number and hit call.

I almost hung up after I heard the first ring. It

reverberated in my ear like a siren for the injured. Just as

I was about to send a text two days later, he answered.

“Hello,” his low voice said.

“Uh, Charles?” I asked with a shivering mind. “It’s

Maalik.”

“Maalik! I’m glad you called. Was feeling a bit foolish

giving you my number.”

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Maalik. Actually,” he paused “I probably won’t call but be

“Yeah, okay.”

hanging up.

I held the phone to my lap as I thought of how life is

filled with polar opposites and how someone’s life can seem

entirely different from yours. The same way a day marked

with death for one person, is a day filled with life for

another. We don’t feel collectively, but we collectively

the type of person he seemed to be.

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Two days later, Charlie sent me a message asking what I

along with the anxieties of what he had in store for me. I

in it, but felt drawn to him, so I texted back my

availability.

I tried to avoid Sauda at school with the suspicion that

she would ask me about him. This proved to be challenging

because I had to see her five days a week. One day she

caught up with me and told me that I left my scarf when we

coldness. It’s as if I always find a reason to push people

away.

“Sauda!” I called out to her. “Thank you.”

“It’s no big deal,” she said referring to the scarf.

“No,” I said trying to gather my thoughts. I stepped

closer to her. “Thanks for everything, for trying to get me

to talk even though I didn’t want to.” I avoided her gaze

and stared aimlessly at her aura.

“I’ve just been a dick lately,” I continued, “and I

don’t know why you keep on being nice to me, but, thanks. I

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moment on, I stopped avoiding her.

him I was neighbors with Matthew, he said he could easily

distracted when I mentioned Charlie’s name. It was as if the

syllables of his name evoked a series of reminiscences.

She looked like she didn’t want to leave the house on

Saturday, so I left without her. Charlie’s car was blue,

soft griot music left the car when I opened the door. I

looked at him once I sat down, I think he trimmed his beard.

who the artist was Charlie said it was Geoffrey Oryema.

“Sometimes the city carries a lot of stress,” he said.

“It’s almost impossible for me to carry that stress as I

drive home. I feel like the trees absorb my stress or

whatever.”

He said he built his house himself, along with the help

of his friends. I asked him if he’d ever done construction

before, he laughed and said no. I saw what he meant when he

stepped out of the car to open the gate to his home. For a

moment the trees soaked up my pain through the wind. There

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kitchen and made our way to his spacious living room which

wooden seats; the other side was only filled by a carpeted

image on the canvas resembled a tree. On the yellow walls

were various paintings, posters and photographs.

Once I took my eyes off them I fully noticed the three

people sited in the living room. Charlie introduced them as

his friends. They held bottles of beer in their hands and

smiled at me. There were two girls and one guy. I assumed

built this house. I looked at Charlie who looked at Femi as

if he was lying.

“He helped a little,” Charlie said. “It was my idea. He

just happened to be there with all the knowledge and skills

I needed.”

“I built the house,” Femi said with sincerity.

“We built it together,” Charlie said looking at me. He

chuckled as his gaze moved to his other friend. “This is

Rudo,” he said pointing at the girl with thick long braids

and a long neck.

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she smiled at me.

and stayed close to Amani. Charlie disappeared into the

stool. He placed the stool next to me and sat on it. He

handed me one glass and took a sip of the other.

Femi noticed this and asked, “How old are you, man?”.

It took me a second to realise he was talking to me but

Charlie answered 15 before I could.

“You still in high school?” Femi asked.

instead try making her own.

“Where’s that girl you were with?” Charlie quietly asked,

“Saura?”

“Sauda,” I corrected him.

“Sauda!” he remembered, “I thought you’d bring her.”

“You didn’t say I could bring anyone other than my

sister,” I said taken aback.

Charlie laughed from his throat.

“Sometimes it’s good to do your own thing,” he said. “I

wouldn’t have minded having her here.”

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mind. He looked at me encouragingly. “Why did you invite me

“What do you mean?” he asked with his mouth drawing into

“I don’t understand what you find so interesting about

me. Aren’t you ten years older than me?”

“Ten years?” Charlie asked as he chuckled. “I just

thought you’d appreciate it,” he said after giving it some

thought. “Plus you remind me a lot of myself when I was

around your age,” he said smirking at me. “Except I was more

clothes. I heard Rudo say something about design school, so

I cleared my throat and asked Charlie, “She’s a designer?”

“Who, Rudo?” Charlie asked back. I nodded my head. “She

sure is. You can check out some of her stuff on Instagram.

I’m only telling you this because by the end of the day

she’ll make sure you’ve liked all of her pics.”

He took out his phone and swiftly opened the app

revealing her profile. It was minimal, filled with pictures

of beautiful girls in vibrant clothes. I recognised one of

them.

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who is Sauda’s father.

was pleased with her unnecessary involvement in our plans

When Saturday came, the three of us packed ourselves

inside my mum’s car. Asha sat in the front and I sat in the

back with Sauda who was more than happy to talk with my mum.

Sauda wore a blue headwrap which complimented her

complexion. On her hand was a bracelet of cowries which

slightly chinked each time she moved. When she caught me

nearly at his house, my mum began asking about Charlie as if

she just realised she had never met him.

“So how exactly do you know Charlie?” she asked.

“He’s Matthew’s uncle,” I replied.

“I see,” she bobbed her head, “and you met him at the

wake?”

“Yes,” I said in a half lie. I didn’t want to give her a

reason to think this whole situation was suspicious.

“And what does he do?”

“He’s an artist.” She slowly nodded her head.

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hand. She greeted him with a smile and asked him some

“So, should we take this party inside?” he jokingly asked

“Could I get you something to drink?” he asked my mum as

she stepped into his space.

“No thank you. Wow, it’s warm in here,” she said looking

around. Her eyes caught mine and she released a maternal

smile. “Maalik tells me you’re an artist.”

“Yes,” he said. He began to talk about the type of work

down. I sensed the need in Charlie’s eyes to say something

more.

“Okay guys,” my mum said. “What time should I come pick

you?”

“That’s okay,” Charlie said. “I can drop them once

they’re ready to leave.”

“Oh, that would be good. No later than 7pm.”

She walked over to my head and planted a kiss on my

forehead. She did the same to Asha and said her final

goodbye. Charlie followed her out.

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kitchen and we followed his voice.

skin tone is different from yours, but take that all away

back with a tray of glasses filled with water.

We all looked at him bewildered.

“Well, it’s good to see you all again,” He said placing

the tray on a freshly polished tree stump at the center of

the room. “Drink up. You’re going to need some hydration for

where we’re going.”

kitchen. She hid her eyes.

Sauda walked over and took a sip of her water. “What will

we be doing at the hills?”

“Hiking,” Charlie replied.

Sauda and I gazed at our shoes acknowledging that they

were not fit for hiking. “Don’t worry, it isn’t anything

serious. I know this great spot.”

“Is Amani coming?” I asked

“She is actually,” He replied. He looked to Sauda and

said, “Amani’s my girlfriend. She said she’ll be here in 10

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way to her.

“What is?” she asked facing me.

“You’re interested in art?” she asked surprised at my

knowledge.

“I guess so, I mean. I sometimes have a hard time

understanding what exactly art is.”

“What do you mean?”

There I go again, saying things that my heart wants but

himself.” She called out to Charlie who looked up at us with

a cherished smile. “Is writing art?”

“Of course it is,” he said puzzled. “Imagine if we all

expressed ourselves through painting, then there’d be no

music.”

In a way, I already knew the answer to my naive question.

I just needed someone to confirm it. Sauda and I nodded our

heads in understanding.

“Did you study art?” Sauda asked.

Charlie deeply chuckled; the kind you may hear from a

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She gave Asha a hug as if she knew her, but I had the

“I’ve got all the food in my basket,” she said. “Are we

“Yeah!” Charlie said. “Let’s get out of here.”

The land stretched endlessly. It was strange; it didn’t

feel like we were going anywhere, just exploring. With each

exhale, I rid myself of all the negativity I held within me,

only taking it in again with my next inhale. A karmic cycle

that I currently didn’t mind. Charlie effortlessly kept the

that I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

The spot Charlie picked was at the peak of a hill. Around

us were green speed bumps sprouting out from the ground. I

played that game where I stretch my vision beyond what’s

visible and ask myself how it feels to be all those little

people who I cannot see. After Charlie spread the picnic

blanket on the grass, Amani took out the food from her bag

which was all vegetarian. Veg samosas, crackers, hummus,

honey coated nuts, fruits, fried peas and plenty of juice

boxes.

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placed the blunt on his lips.

mind if I smoke.”

synchronicity. He nodded in response and lit it, taking a

deep puff. He passed it to Amani who humbly declined,

skipped Sauda and I and nudged it to Asha who took it

without a second guess. With the blunt between her fingers,

she played my game of sight and distance.

When we spoke, we did so together. When there was

right. I wasn’t in my head as much, it felt like I was

learning how to breathe again.

We made our way back home with Amani. She said she would

drive us home because Charlie wasn’t in the best state for

long distance travel, and she had the stuff to do in the

city anyway. Charlie pulled Asha aside before we entered

Amani’s car. They talked for a good 10 minutes. Amani began

the journey by kissing Charlie head which he stuck into the

driver’s window; he whispered something in her ear and she

giggled. He waved goodbye to the rest of us and shouted he’d

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to have everything, then lose it slowly.

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the next day at school. “It sometimes feels like everyone is

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“What’s that thing Charlie said?” she asked herself. We

were in a classroom, minutes before Biology started.

“Separation is an illusion?”

“Oh yeah,” I remembered.

“I wish I knew what he meant.”

conversations. I held the memory of the sun adopting me as

its child, the grass carrying me and the solid karmic

exchange between the wind and me. It made me hold on to the

hope that there’s more to life than the pain we carry. Sauda

and I clasped on to this hope so tightly that we didn’t

realise it was ungraspable with our young fingers. It’s in

the moments that we weren’t trying at all that the whispers

of bliss echoed our names.

I broke the silence during my awkward family dinner by

saying I want to go vegetarian. I mostly wanted to see my