His Gentle Soul

Monologue

As she stood there, tears streaming down her face, silently watching the casket descend into the cold, unforgiving ground, the weight of loss crushed her chest. He was gone. Gone forever. The truth settled into her bones, a harsh reality that was impossible to escape. She had loved him so deeply once, a love that had filled her heart completely—once. And now, all that remained were fragmented memories and an aching void in her soul.

A long time ago, she thought they would grow old together, their love weathering the storms of life. But now, as the earth swallowed him whole, part of her wanted to follow him, to leave behind the life she had known. But she stood there, motionless, feeling the unbearable heaviness of his absence. That lingering, eternal connection—the one that bound her heart to his—would remain. She would carry it with her forever. But it wasn’t enough.

The ache of forever was too much.

Chapter 1

Mueni Kilonzo stood in front of the mirror, her reflection staring back at her—a mix of nervous excitement and uncertainty. Her first job. It felt surreal, like a dream she wasn’t sure she was ready to wake up from. The excitement bubbled within her, but it was clouded with a tinge of anxiety. She had worked so hard to get here, but now, in the stillness of the moment, she was scared.

This was it—the first step toward the career she had spent years preparing for. She had just graduated from the Kenya School of Law, a month ago, and now, she was about to begin her pupillage. The grey suit she wore seemed too formal, too... official for the person she felt inside. A quiet woman from a privileged background, always used to having her life planned out for her, she was used to everything being just so.

Her parents—both doctors, highly respected in their fields—had always expected greatness from her. She had always felt the weight of their expectations, their love, and their unspoken belief that she would follow in their footsteps. But instead, she had chosen law. They hadn’t been disappointed. A lawyer was good enough.

Mueni slipped into the driver’s seat of her Toyota Vitz, a gift from her parents when she had joined university. It was a symbol of their love, their pride in her achievements. She was their only child, their one chance to see their legacy live on. Growing up in a beautiful home in Karen, she had been sheltered, pampered in the best way. But now, as she drove through the busy streets of Nairobi, she felt the weight of her own life ahead of her.

Her new job at Kimemia Advocates was a connection made by her father, a favor for an old friend. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Part of her was grateful for the opportunity. Another part wondered if she was being handed everything on a silver platter, a path already paved.

As she drove down Ngong Road, passing Kenyatta National Hospital and the older buildings of Community, a wave of discomfort washed over her. The buildings, ancient and worn, seemed to mirror the passage of time—the crumbling remnants of a bygone era. Yet, they stood tall and unmoving, as if refusing to yield to the demands of the present.

Kimemia Advocates stood in stark contrast. A modern building of red brick and glass, sleek and sharp, gleaming with the promise of success. It looked more like an apartment complex than an office. It was impeccably maintained, and as Mueni parked her car in the basement, she couldn't help but feel the weight of that contrast—the difference between the old, neglected offices of government and the polished, professional world she was stepping into.

Inside the office, the air was cool and calm, surrounded by tall trees. The view from the windows, breathtaking in its simplicity, offered a moment of peace. She needed it. The day had just begun, and her mind was already buzzing with the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

The receptionist, a woman who had worked there for over a decade, greeted Mueni with a warm smile. She was older, yet there was something comforting about her presence. The office was bustling with activity, and Mueni was shown to her desk—a shared space with the other pupils. She felt both excited and intimidated.

Her new colleagues were a mix of friendly and professional. Njoroge, Ogutu, and Kipchonge would be her seniors. They explained that her role would primarily involve learning—researching, shadowing them in court, and assisting with administrative work. She would take it all in stride, do the work, and learn as much as possible. She had no illusions—she knew she was at the bottom of the ladder.

The office was spacious, and the air was filled with the sound of murmurs and phones ringing. She was shown to her shared workspace, where she would be with Josephine, a pupillage from Kenyatta University. Josephine was tall and slender, with a quiet, mysterious air about her. She didn’t say much, but her smile was bright enough to light up the room. Mueni admired her composure and felt a quiet bond form between them.

The day was long, and Mueni spent most of it printing documents, waiting for an assignment. She didn’t meet Mr. Kimemia—the boss—who was attending a conference in South Africa. There was no word on when he’d return, and she quickly learned that his presence was often absent.

When the workday ended, Mueni drove back to the empty house. Her parents were always busy, and she had grown used to the silence. The house manager, Mwikali, greeted her with a warm smile, but they barely exchanged more than pleasantries. Mwikali had been with the family for almost ten years, and though she was like a second mother, the house felt empty without her parents.

Mueni went straight to her room, changed into something more comfortable, and lay down on the bed, feeling the exhaustion seep into her bones. She wasn’t planning on waiting for her parents. She had always been independent, accustomed to being alone. Her parents had always been out—working late into the night, saving lives, healing the sick—but Mueni was content with her solitude.

Her evening unfolded predictably. Dinner was a quiet affair—minced meat and spaghetti, nothing fancy. She ate alone in the kitchen, savoring the solitude. Mwikali had already retired for the night.

Afterward, Mueni retreated to her room, where she read a few legal articles before succumbing to the pull of sleep. The rhythm of her life was familiar, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning—a beginning she wasn’t sure she was ready for, but one that she knew she couldn’t avoid.