Who are you?

What is love if my identity seems crap to your people?

Look, it was my first time that my pretty lady decided I should meet her family, to be more specific her father! As usual with my nature of life and our lifestyle back at home ,first time visitors are warmly welcomed,with joy ,smiles and of course lots of jokes. What was to be a hallo from her father came as

“Young man who are you?”

Humbly I responded,


With my smile I thought I had impressed somebody’s father. Gosh!

“I already know that from my daughter, know tell me young man who are you?” This was the response that hit my young face”

Know I knew things were not getting as easy as I thought and as my beautiful “baby” had told me. I decided I wear that faked serious face, oh! That’s not my thing. I responded ,

“Jeff Lutta Njomo ,sir!”

“(Haha) let me make it simpler, I’m a lawyer, my wife is a lecturer, my daughter whom you claim to love is in school studying financial Engineering, now tell me ,who are you?”

“A poet sir”

At this point I started calculating my steps for an easy escape, but I had to defend my manhood, most importantly my love, it was real, “poor me, a boy child”.

He kinda smiled, adjusted his spectacle, the rage from his eyes did more harm. At that point I discovered my point of timidness.

” A poet ! OH! So you study literature and major in poetry, a writer?” He asked.

Boom! “I’m finished”, this is what my heart told me. “But I have to do this”, I convinced myself, for a moment I thought I was ” stupid in love”

Now his identity..

Someone in love, in fact he can catch a bullet for her

“Literature, no, but I write what I perform ,also I do lyrical dance choreography, so yes”

At this point I saw that handshake almost coming, it was delayed for so long. Just to inflict more thirst for questions.

“Maybe performance, you also do theatre arts, A thespian?”

” A thespian …used to be ”

Now the next response made my hear weak because it was with that loud pitch, last time I heard it was in high school when I had overslept during the morning prep from the teacher on duty.

“What do you mean you used to be? OH! Well wait, why did I not think of this, you older than my daughter so definitely you are through with school. Impressive.”

I quickly interjected,” I’m not in school, sir!”

” so you not in school and you not through with school, so you haven’t gone to school” He with that look on the face, I can’t express it through words.

Finally for the first time since ” young man , who are you?” , he finally understood what I meant , from what I said , and the first time since ” young man who are you?” I gave straight response to this question.

Now agreement comes with silences but the following silence wasn’t just any kind of silence, it was the kind given to guest who won’t say they’re welcomed.

Minutes into my arrival and delayed my welcome, wait I wasn’t even welcomed, greetings were, “young man who are you?” And I still expect a welcome to the family. Their was no way I was getting anything from this man not a welcome not her daughter, until I answered the question , ” young man who are? ” correctly.

So University gives people identity, then I’m a nobody.

Who are you?

I think it inspired what I’m doing right now.