downloadWe all know about love at first sight. They say it’s beautiful,magical and just like a movie. How about friendship at first sight, sound funny,right. But it’s more than beautiful or magical, and no movie know about it.

We met in a meeting, I sat next to her, she made a joke and I was the  only one  who got it. Not that the joke wasn’t funny, but cause you had to be a certain way (weird, I guess…lol) to have gotten it. We hit it off that time, no need of what’s your name or how are yous or what’s your favorite this or what’s your dislikes.
It was great, we were like long lost sisters. We all love writing, love the same type of music, love teaching kids… We were so close, we could feel when something was wrong with the other just by guts, we weren’t shy to shed tears in front of each other, coz we knew, the other will wipe them away. We talked about everything and about nothing. We were inspirational source to each other. My pain was hers, so was hers, mine.
But by time went by, things went back to normal, we didn’t know each other, we hardly said “hi” when we met, un-responded messages, back to the crossroads, back to two strangers in a meeting.
However, I think ‘the how’re yous and what’s your name’ were needed, cause just as I  didn’t see her coming it is as I didn’t see her leave. I felt like I had shared history, memories and dreams with a stranger,but again, she was just a stranger.

_ by Kanziza  Linda Raissa



We live with ourselves

purple beauty on the entry door

When the only person you’re supposed to talk to

Or the only shoulder to cry on
Or the only mirror you have
Or the subconscious to consult
Is the one you can no longer look in the eyes
Or trust your tears with
Or the one you can’t utter a word too
That’s when you realize that in this world, you’re all by yourself
That the pain is real and is all yours
The road is way to long but thick too
The sorrow and agony are too real
The screams are only in your head
The scar bleeds from the inside
The perfect smile is too fake
The words are meaningless
But then again, it was just a dream ,a  nightmare
Just  another ugly joke
The worse horror movie you’ve ever watched
The prank that surely worked.
But it’s all over now,
The smile is back
The crazy laughter is louder
The hugs are more tighter
The talk  is realpurple beauty
The tears are shed but shared
The bridges are rebuilt
The presence completes
Because that’s the one way you know her and  always will… No matter what.

 purple beauty two


Some weeks back, I met a girl who had just lost her dad. I could feel her pain in her voice and see her sorrow in her eyes, I could feel she misses him. I tried to relate but I couldn’t, coz I don’t know the feeling of loosing a dad.
I lost my dad before I turned two, i never had  the chance to feel losing him. I think that i don’t miss him either, cause you miss what you had, what you knew, what you felt… I never experience that. I don’t remember him holding me or calling my name, i don’t even remember his face or know his face, if his ghost ever  ” visit” me, I think he’ll first have to introduce himself.
The first time i saw his picture, though ( a black and white profile picture, the only one my mum had left of him) i felt like i was looking at the male version of me, so to those who say I’m a photocopy my mum, you’re wrong.. I look more like my dad. I stared at the picture and saw my eyes in his, his dark skin on me, i ware his kinky hair, and his dimples  almost made it on face and I was told that I have his finger nails and toe nails.
My mum don’t talk that much about him, the culture don’t allow to talk about the dead. So I don’t know much about his character, but I hear he was calm and reserved, unfortunately, I didn’t get that part of him, my older brother did. I’m talkative and I speak my mind. But, one day, we were watching TV, and an old song was playing ( je t’aime by Shaky and Aviva) I immediately liked it, I told my mum that I like the song, her eyes lit and she put on a smile and told me that that song was one of my dad’s favorites. She went on and told me that he loved music and he would listen to it all night. That night i played that song ’till morning dawn.
So, maybe I’m wrong, cause next time I comb my kinky hair or I put on music when I’m about to sleep, I’ll know that I miss him, even though I never knew him.

by Kanziza Linda Raissa


When your friend sends you such a thing, you can only wonder what kind of friend you have been. Have known her for almost ten years nw, but have never come to talk about her dad. Selfish me. Can only pray to be a better friend