Breaking up with Sandy

Sandy, my friend, my love, my darling,

web images

web images

This is going to be one of the hardest things I will ever have to do. Thinking of you, my mind skips straight to cuddles, a warm blanket and you watching me sleep before you snooze off as well.

You have been there for me through the worst of it all and through the best too. You are one of the most consistent, most reliable friends a girl could ever ask. You’re always there at exactly 10.00 p.m. and sometimes even earlier. On those rare nights, when I happen to get t bed much later than usual, you are there waiting to blow your pixie dust into my eyes and helping me collapse on my bed like a happy comfortable “oh-my-goodness-I’m-finally-here” bag of cement, if there ever was one.

I love that about you; how present you are when I really need you. That statement may come off as selfish and self serving but yes, I love that you are there when I need you.


You’re there when it rains outside and there’s nothing better to do but snuggle up on a sofa, when I’m sad and low and need something to sooth me or when I simply need to clear my mind so that I can stop over thinking about everything and nothing.

You’re one of those friends who knows me…like truly knows me. You know that I’m a lady in the streets and a…well…in bed…yikes!!You know how my hair goes all over the place when I sleep when I forget where threw my hairnet, how it looks like a place where death-eaters reside and how I try to smooth it down so that I don’t scare myself when I stare into the mirror. It’s often in vain though. No one should have to endure the horror of seeing me in that state. And yet you do and you still come back. You know that I sometimes snore and that that snore sounds like a big furry animal’s mating call, a drilling machine and a cow choking all at the same time. Yet you come back. I guess I’m lucky you understand that when I’m beyond the definition of exhausted, my entire body goes numb and my brain seems to switch to the mode where the deejay is scratching on the decks and this causes that terrible alien sound that I call a snore. And you’re there with me, Sandy, when my brain is mush and I need your fairy dust to carry me along to our secret hide away.

Remember that time when I made it a mission to sleep like a princess? The ridiculous things I attempt. Throw a bag of peas under my mattress and I wouldn’t have felt that ish. You know how unashamed I am that I even try to do these kind of things like trying to find ways to sleep like a princess so that I look perfect. But with the way I snore, who was I kidding?

I’m glad that I can be very comfortable around you. Too comfortable I guess sometimes.

You know that I’m not a morning person and that I would kill to spend more time with you. Let you tuck me back into bed and draw my curtains and somehow make the air in my room cold enough to convince me that it’s still 3.00 a.m in the morning.

You’re a true friend, Sandy. You fight off Boogey-man when he tries to turn my dreams into nightmares.


I’ve noticed that he’s not very creative. The nightmares he often attacks me with are the ones of myself running through endless mazes or being attacked by giant grasshoppers which the rest of Kampala are running towards with savage looks on their faces while poor me is screaming my head off.

I’m glad that you have my back and that you magically always turn those nightmares into blockbuster worthy dreams. Like the ones where I get to fight off zombies with my Lara Croft/ninja/Milla Jovovich aka “Alice” in Resident Evil skills. You’re always somewhere in there in my dreams as my partner who covers me as I fight off zombies or cyborgs. You’re the guy at the back of the stage who tells me that everything is going to work out just fine just before I walk onto stage to give a riveting speech about God knows what. You’re the girl seated next to me who holds my hand when my name is called and reminds me not to be too emotional because my make-up might run or says something silly just so I can laugh and calm down.

Boogey man ain’t got nothing on you.

It’s going to be hard for me to say everything that I need to after remembering all the great times we have shared all these years.

We need to take a break from each other. It’s not because I don’t love you. You know I do, unconditionally. But our relationship is taking a toll on everything else that I hold dear.

I hope that we can make this decision amicably and that we can still hang out every once in a while and you won’t leave all by myself. My ex “Insomnia” would find reason to creep back into my life. You know how he is with his creepy little self, always showing up where he’s not invited. You know he was terrible to me. He was abusive. He only thought about himself and never about me.

I don’t know what I ever saw in him. He’s up 24/7 and never gets any rest and you can see it; those eye bags that he tries to hide by wearing all that eyeliner and shadow. He thinks it makes him look like Khal Drogo.

khal drogo

Khal Drogo; web images

He doesn’t realise that he looks like Edward Scissorhands instead.

Edward Scissorhands; web images

Edward Scissorhands; web images

He has that lonely look on his face. I think that’s how he did it, how he hooked me in the first place. He made me feel sorry for him. He took advantage of my sweetness.

He used to bully me, made me sit up all night watching marathons of 45 minute series or nervously doing a bunch of work or reading only to look up and see the sun starting to sip in through my curtain. I tried once, to shoo the sun away and she just laughed at me…the arrogance of that lady.

I know you’re probably wondering why we have to ease things between us. I hope I have made it clear that it has nothing to do with my love for you.

You know I made a crazy plan for myself earlier this year; more early morning devotions, work out time of 15 to 30 minutes (I want to see if i can get abs) and that extra time to make sure that I write at least one short story a week, and to start working on my novel “Take that x3“.

Sandy, you know that one day I want to work with Chuck Lorre, Mindy Kaling, Vince Gilligan, Courtney Kemp Agboh, Shonda Rhimes, Mike Judge, Michael Schur…not in any particular order. Somehow most of the people I want to work with are comedians yet I don’t think I’m that funny. If anything, I think I’m more about the drama than about the funny in my writing but I still want to work with these people.I want to be a producer/writer/director for a televsion show that turns out to be a monstorus success like The Sopranos or Breaking Bad or Game of Thrones with a little less blood and gore but with all the great viewership numbers; 8 million, that right there is my number. I want to make a huge movie that turns into a cult classic because of just how bat shit amazing it is.

You know my ultimate dream is to win a Pulitzer,a Bailey’s award, a Caine prize, get a nod from New York Times and Granta and remind our people that we’ve got amazing stories too and we can share them with the world and the world will love them. I want an Emmy, Sandy and I’d name it after you. I want a Pulitzer, a BAFTA, call me crazy but I want an Oscar too. But how can I work on a great spec and that novel if all I do is spend so much time with you, Sandy.

If you love me, Sandy, you will understand. This isn’t goodbye. I will always make time for you. It’s kind of hard to say no to you especially when have the moon on your side, telling him to go all R&B on me with Jodeci/Usher sounds before you hypnotise me.

images4You’re smooth, Sandy. I give you that.

This isn’t goodbye. It could never be. But I hope you can support me in all my goals.


I do not!!! No, like for real. I don’t snore. I guess that’s all that I wanted to throw into the disclaimer. Oh, and I’m sorry for turning the Sandman, cute and cuddly as he is, into some sexy beast.


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3 thoughts on “Breaking up with Sandy

  1. Chisom says:

    I had to go google up The Sandman. It’s always a pleasure to read you, Asio … good job.

    P.S: add Chisom Ojukwu to that list 😉

  2. Kati Laba says:

    Gwe, Breaking Bad! I have sub plots for your Breaking Bad-esque show when you are ready. Tales from Chemical Ali: A Sachet Waragi Colossus.

    Naye nice read, “nice one”. (My Mr Bean face goes here)

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