DIARY OF A SINGLE LADY PART 8

I asked what the problem was… never mind I’ll sort it out with madam he said. I thought to myself, how come you’ll sort out my problems, if any, with another person. But I wasn’t a full member of this family and my approach to the doctor might be a form of reprisal to them thus I kept my shut in anticipation.

We slept in the same room: on the biggest bed I’ve ever seen, big enough to contain six adults, with a vent I tried to locate. The room was just cold and there was no air conditioner anywhere my sight. I complained in the middle of the night on how cold it was and he reduced the flow but I still didn’t see the vent. 

Lawrence had a lovely sleep, I watched him sleep but I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking. I just thought to myself, why do ladies have to go through such humiliation in getting married to a man that initially approached them. I didn’t walk up to Lawrence, he did. So why must I be at the parent’s mercy. A thought came to my head; I’ll call off the relationship at the slightest provocation from Lawrence and see if he really loves me. If he comes after me…. then….. Then what I thought. In these episodes of thought I suddenly remembered I was “AS”. Could the mother come after us with our genotype as a problem? I know Lawrence is not “SS” but if he is also “AS”, then we stand a chance of giving birth to a child that would be “SS”. I did all the permutations in my head and immediately felt like calling my friend, Dr Linda. 

It was 4.30 am and I’ve not closed my eyes for once. I needed morning to come so that I can plan my next move. I became optimistic in my thought: how would I manage the conglomerate of companies when the parents are gone to the land beyond. I would be the woman to question anyone who is interested in marrying my son in the next thirty years. The pride of the Archujes’s crown of motherhood would be worn by me. The world would know ‘there was a woman who came, who saw and conquered’.

It was Lawrence’s kiss that woke me up. I had fallen off in sleep within my thoughts. Baby lets hit the gym, the instructors just sent a word.  I dragged myself off the bed and changed to a sport wear. Just three long corridors away we were at the gym. It’s a large room with all the equipment for shaping your body, like they were shaping your future. The room was also cold and how on earth would one sweat. I asked Lawrence: was this the life you grew up in? They wake you up to come to the gym? Instructor fashions out what exercise you would do, hope they won’t bath you? We both laughed as he said no now. I thought of my house where you must sweep at least thirty minutes when you wake up, then wipe the furniture for dust, get to the kitchen and make food for the house before rushing to school. And my parent expected all distinction. Hmmm they should come and see family. We were twenty minutes into the aerobics when mummy entered the gym. She wasn’t prepared for exercise because she was wearing her robe. Two ladies always follow her to take order and dish them out to appropriate corners. 

She came with a tone of motivation and a smile as I greeted her good morning. Her smile and wave was an approved one. She hasn’t been too bad but I was just scared of her. She was in for ten minutes before she excused me out of the gym. We walked the length and breadth of the compound that looked like a stadium. She showed me everything inside the house. Anytime I don’t want to exercise fully I just walk round the compound she said. That’s enough exercise you know. I didn’t say anything, all my responses were nods. I smelt something was wrong but I couldn’t picture it. The whole memory of genotype was lost this time with the beauty of the palace I was shown.

Then she turned to one of the girls and she gave her a note. We stopped and the ladies moved back, I knew something was going on. She continued; the doctor gave me a report yesterday saying your genotype was ‘AS’ and I guess you know my son is ‘AS’ too. I asked him the implication of this and he said your child might be ’SS’. Which isn’t a good one? Do you understand, I said yes with tears in my eyes. I just felt it, I wasn’t going to be favoured. I told her I never knew Lawrence was ‘AS’, which is the truth. My daughter, men are the weakest vessels, so you learn how to manage them. I called you and not my son because it’s only me and you that can manage this situation. What should we do at this moment? From doctor’s analysis, we cannot have this child.  Are you suggesting abortion, I asked? 

She took on another long walk, with an answer not relating to the question. Tracy, you are an engineer, who has never practiced and might never practice, if married into this family. Are you aware of that? I said yes. She showed me a calendar with twelve pages, those are twelve of the companies you’ll be controlling, and there is at least 35 staff in this compound at any time. Your husband won’t have time for them, you would. Can you add a child who is a sickle cell to all these issues before you? At this moment my energy was gone, she sounded like a mother who knows everything. I didn’t know what to do again. Tears rolled down my cheeks and in all submission I fell to my knees holding her: mummy what can I do? She held me up wiped my tears and said: my daughter we are removing this particular baby. Is that alright by you? I had no other option, thus I said yes……… Lawrence walked into the long corridor and immediately I knew I’ve made a mistake.

DIARY OF A SINGLE LADY PART 7

 It seems to me the world would collapse when I meet them. The prestigious Archujes would be expecting a Tracy. I knew levels have changed but I wasn’t sure I wanted this level. I became a little more prayerful and called my mum more often. She started giving me some feminine skills of dealing with mother in law and how to behave, remember the daughter of whom you are was always the concluding line like our name was on Google. My pastor in Benin prayed for me through the phone and told me all will be well. All those encouragements and counseling was about to be met with the best or worst mother in law to be in the world I told myself.

Days became faster and nights quickly faded. It seems the end was coming but I knew if I could jump this hurdle, life can never frown at me again. It was Thursday, a day to go and I started feeling I shouldn’t go see them anyways. Lawrence is practically scared of his mother. All the stories I’ve heard about her, makes her another Margaret Thatcher. Here I am, a lady that usually loves to play away in freedom, about to be tied down in matrimony of wealth and honour, thus I’ll be enslaved for life. With all these pains and thoughts roaming my mind I was supposed to be scared but I didn’t care. I was ready for the unexpected.  Worst of all, she’ll mess the whole meeting up and I’ll move on with life. I packed our things in the same box but when he came back from work he told me we have to use two boxes. I asked why that? And he said we can’t pack our clothes together except we are married. I acted as if I wasn’t surprised. I  made two boxes available.

I couldn’t sleep all through the night. I created memories of Mrs. Archuje in my mind. I totally forgot there was a father in the house. Subconsciously I was working out a rehearsal on how my behaviour would be when I meet her. All my expectations of this woman were cut short at our first meeting.

The mansion had a long lawn of pure green grass set before it. The cars were scattered and I didn’t want to stare too well for me not to be noticed. Many workers were roaming around in their uniforms till we got the entrance. We were greeted by two butlers and one mentioned my name. Is that a good sign? A bad sign? The front door was opened as we walked into the house. We met the dad with two faces i usually see on TV. It was later I knew it was Seun Otedola and Mustapha magairi. I knelt on two knees to show respect as the man told pulled me up.  My daughter welcome home he said. How was the journey? It was good daddy, still trying to pull myself together. The gesture of welcome made me know I was here to settle. But I messed up, I would have dressed better.

This is my son’s fiancée and we are expecting a grandchild soon. With the introduction I knew the family had accepted me before I even came. All they needed was a meeting. The man in sparkling white native attire (otedola) asked for my name and I told him Tracy, he went further by asking for my surname….. Just to check the background. I was not bothered as he ended up not knowing it. I walked from the lobby intro a stadium size sitting room, with five settees in different corners. The TVs were like projectors, with a chandelier denoting wealth.  Daddy’s big picture was hung on the right side and beside his picture I saw the image of the woman I’ve been scared of meeting. The whole consent of fear was now gone, with the acceptance accosted me. We walked through the sitting, opening a door to another passage and saw mummy coming down the stairs.  Immediately my sight caught up with her, I got on my knees once more to greet her and she pulled me up, with a smile saying my daughter, I’m so happy to meet you. With a soft voice, she said welcome and I suddenly felt like crying.

I have just deprived myself all the sleep in the world for a woman this loving. She gave her son a pat on the back and escorted me into the glorious dining room. All food was set like I was hungry and she held my hand as we sat next to each other. Lawrence’s mother had a regal air about her. She looks solid and dependable. She controls everything in that big mansion and it’s obvious she extends to the business. She’ll be a good mother in law I guessed. She asks Lawrence to excuse us and he willingly left the room with a wink as if it was well. She turned to me and the other door opened. 

The father stepped in and sat close to us and I knew I was about to go through an inquisition. So you and Lawrence are planning to get married right? I was disturbed by this statement. Were they expecting a no? Yes I said. You and Lawrence haven’t known yourselves that much, have you? Long enough, for us to know we love ourselves. Love, she asked with a bewitched smile as she adjusted her seat. Tracy, to be sincere to you, Lawrence’s news came to us as a surprise. And of course, he would have told you of Amina?  She continued explaining the wealth in the other family also and salted the injury she was creating in my mind. It lasted a while, till she said if Lawrence ends up with a stand it’s you he wants, there is nothing we can do about it. I said a loud thank you and breathed a sigh of relief.

The moment ended with the entrance of Lawrence and the family doctor. 

He was introduced to me and I was like what are these people doing. I just had a trip to your house and you want to do a check up the first day? The doctor called me for counseling after dinner and gave me rules of carrying a baby in Archuje’s family. From now on, no more strenuous work, he’ll come up with a diet plan and I’ll have to change my wardrobe to free the baby in the tummy. I started feeling like Princess Diana. He laid me on a bed and checked the vitals. He ended by asking for my genotype and I told him “AS”. He looked at me in surprise and shook his head in disappointment, and then I knew there was likely a problem…….

 

In primary school we were taught that we have three basic needs but as we grew up we discovered other basic needs - love,growth,certainty to mention but a few.But love surpasses all.. This is true. love is a basic need the inner being wants.Just do a cognitive introspection and you will fathom my words.we all need that special person to reciprocate the love we feel for them back.I know some of you will vehemently deny this assertion but its true.We need love.Those who don't need it have been heart broken beyond repair and can never admit it.But even broken glasses can be recycled and remoulded.Fact is deep inside, you yearn to be loved,true love.Love is something that precedes our being..People need to feel loved which enables us to operate as healthy balanced and happy human beings.One can stay single but that doesn't mean she/he  cannot fall in love.

Single people fall in love to just that the thought of living with someone in the same house for the rest of their lives nauseates them.They need love,if they don't  they go to bed Alone,and will do so for many years yet to come.Nevr be cheated that one has an Iron heart that does not want love.We all need and this is irrefutable.Looking at history all the great people leaned on love despite being of same gender of opposite

It is really important to have that person there.the person who will understand you .Who will be there when you walk in door, or having someone to cuddle up to at night when you go to bed, and  just Knowing that he/she will be there when you wake up in the morning. Humans are a 'Social Animal.' Even the most Unsociable of us, do need Human contact to survive. ...... In a way, we really are like Rats! They are like that too.

People should stop confusing being single and wanting love.Humanity thrives with love.Love gives hope.We all fancy and blink within to prevent tears when we see couples who have been resilient during the adversity of life.We deeply wish we can be like them subconsciously.If you had no love and affection, how could you feel like your a part of the human race? you probably could live, but i just couldn't see any point in it.

Without love and affection life will be a struggle. I'm not talking about just loving a spouse but loving everyone around you. Being a generally good person will have that come back to you, or for lack of a better word, what comes around goes around. You do something nice for someone else, and it will be returned. Of course you're going to feel empty without having good people that understand you around you.

 

We humans are made to need love, without love or affection we will die. not literally but our emotions become very low.Our brain's frontal lobe differs us from animals... hence we have emotion and emotional needs.There is no greater feeling than being with someone who wants you as much as you want them, to love and to be loved in return, knowing that person is there for you and you are there for them and just the thought of losing each other brings you closer together. Its great just to have one person who understands you and you connect with across the board.

 

All our lives we always want love,and when we get it we are afraid that we will lose it. This fear

 

 

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LOCKED IN THE GENTS

Forgive me peeps but there are a species of human sapien race that I can't put up with !even with Aromat I will still avoid them like plaque!

So for some reason I find myself in Bima plaza Mombasa,I'm in a waiting bench,Tabitha Njeri is keeping me waiting-she always does!so I let my mind wander around throwing a gaze from one corner of the building to the other,the architectural plan for this city beauty can only have come from a talent!By the way do you guys know an architecture somewhere, who is around 35?and unmarried?loooool!
So I'm lost in thoughts when I certainly realize a change in atmospheric diffusion of our God given oxygen.....a sweet scent of male Cologne, or is it an aftershave?I take a swift turn just in time to meet eye for an eye with this guy!He smiles broadly on realizing how silly my jaw dropped!This drop gorgeous guy has those eyes that see you through your heart, I say to my self "this must be the architecture" He has a briefcases,a white shirt or was it cream?its ironed to perfection tacked in black trousers!My eyes rush to the fingers! Manicured?at least no ring on them-oh what a relieve!
He goes on like.."hi,I'm Nick,Nick Nakhoulogo"My head is reeling,what a busy name,oh no,please let him not be form Botswana!Esther Wavinya had a crash with one and it didn't work)..."oh I'm Faith Mueni,Kenyan,kamba tribe ,from the only famous beautiful Mbooni hills..."(I wanted to add that Alfred Mutua is my neighbor governor)
"I'm Kenyan too"...he goes on,but I have ancestors from Congo"that's a relieve,this guy is so cool....
So we end up talking about jobs and how the economy is giving us an ugly look when he suggests business and am impressed!a this guy has a way with words guys,and the smile can raise my dead grandma!
So I ask "apart from your PR job,what business do you do around?"...God has to come here,and He has to come so first because I'm running out if time,this guy starts to preach about the famous GNLD networking shit!,how do I stop him?who do I tell him that im tired with the GNLD,VEEMA,HEALTHY LIVING...and all that cult-like stuff?He us unstoppable, he opens the briefcase and plucks out their networking maps with all those chains and preaching how he is now driving a Harrier and about his holiday to Australia courtesy of GNLD!....I'm getting choked here,am suffocating, the architecture plan of this house didn't consider good ventilation-I figure out.....my life is in danger from this speech,show can I turn off a handsome guy?am sweating,I take a turn and start walking...... I'm now running to the restrooms!....Did I look the sign well?oh no!I'm in the gents.....and several guys behind me,can't get out,got to lock myself till they finish their shit!only then I get those phone calls that you can't dare ignore,its fromGeorge Morara all the way from majuu!
When I get out of this place I'll surely kill Tabby!George Kimeu andProff Muli please pray for me,im still in the gents!!!!
By 
Faith Mueni

MY PRESIDENT BY Beryl Wanga Itindi

Alone but not lonely,
I waited in the lounge at the Airport,
Not for a long lost relative,
Not for a long lost friend,
And not for any family member,
But for the Air Force One to land,
So I may see my president.
It took me not 2 hours,
It took me not a whole day,
It took me several years,
Just to have a look at my president,
This president that was God sent,
He never came early, he never came late,
But just at the moment when I needed him most.
He is not the Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces,
Neither is he a member of the parliament nor a senator,
Neither bodyguards nor the Presidential Press Service,
And above all, no one voted him in the office but me,
No pushing and shoving at this lounge for the president,
Neither red carpet nor dancers to welcome him home,
But I waited still for my president to come.
I did not know how he looked like; I did not know his name,
But I knew for sure I would recognize him when I see him,
At first, the lounge had been fun for I had never been there,
But with time, it got boring and I wished I could walk out,
Only I had no idea where else I would sit and wait for my president,
I wanted to go and meet him as he alighted,
But the security man at the lounge could not let me go!
One evening I was bored and decided to take a nap,
Only to be woken up by others at the lounge,
With sleepy eyes I woke up and looked out the window,
And there it was! Air Force One was on the runway!
Landing swiftly with my president on board,
One look at him and I knew he was my president,
“Your statesman is here for you sir” I whispered in my heart.
I was not carrying my country’s flag but he knew I was the one,
Right there at the Airport we bonded like one,
We had fun at the runway as everyone watched,
Some envied us while others cheered us on,
I kept my president happy and updated him about his country,
I tried making him feel at home for this was the country he would lead,
I was the statesman, he was the president, and did I have a choice?
With a smile on my face, I decided to bid the lounge goodbye,
That lounge that I had been in for the past years,
That lounge that had turned me into one boring robot,
Doing things not because I wanted to but because I was being controlled,
Now I was out and was not planning to go back at any cost,
I knew the guys at the lounge would miss me but I had to go,
They had their chance with me and now they had to let me go.
My president told me all about my other statesmen,
The ones I had never seen and whom he had left behind,
Although I longed to see them, all I saw were their photos,
A good picture is worth 1000 words and sure enough their pictures told me so much,
My president also told me about all the national holidays in our country,
And I longed for the day I would spend the holidays with him and my other statesmen,
He even went ahead and taught me the country’s national language!
From the blues and without a single warning,
My president decided it was time to go back to the lounge,
He told me to go back to this lounge that I dreaded so much!
As much as I knew this was not what I wanted,
I could not disobey my president because I knew he was older and wiser,
I trusted in his word, I knew it was all out of goodwill,
With a heavy heart and without a choice, I went back to the lounge.
As I swallowed my pride and walked back to the lounge,
I saw my president walk back to Air Force One!
I saw Air Force One speeding down the runway,
I saw Air Force One ascending in the air,
I looked out the window at the lounge,
Air Force One was gathering momentum in the air!
Tears welled in my eyes; I was not ready to see it leave.
I had thought I had found my president,
I had thought I would finally be in my country with my other statesmen,
I did not even have the chance to spend one national holiday with him!
With whom shall I talk to in this sweet national language?
With whom shall I celebrate these national holidays?
Are my statesmen okay and will my president be fine?
How I wish Air Force One could turn back!
I had thought this was the president’s destination,
Only to realize that he had just made a stop,
Made a stop as he headed to his destination,
Mr. President, I still believe this was your destination,
Whichever destination you are heading to, I pray you find a true statesman,
One that will make you and your country happy,
All I want to see is a happy country lead by you, your Excellency.
I am still watching Air Force One in the sky,
I see it flying over our land every day,
I wish I could forget that it ever landed,
But I am unable to brush its thought off my mind,
Fare thee well Mr. President, I wish you all the best!
Do not mistake this for a goodbye my president,
All I am saying is see you later sir!
 By 
Beryl Wanga Itindi

Festus Mbuva Midnight Runs( Lowell nightlife)

So last night I still went for a night run after running twenty miles earlier. I was waddling a bit but nothing a little alcohol couldn't numb. The weather was perfect and streets were full of potential stories as nightwalkers and street pharmacists went about their business....literally. I wasn't seeking much of that kind of story so I trotted on heading to a bar in Gorham st where I planned to drink a beer and check out the crowd before turning towards downtown. As I neared the crossing point, a young man was screaming shirtless towards the road. He had some blood in his face but I chalked it to drunken falls or some stupid stuff and kept jogging. He had sat down by the pavement a few yards from the bar cussing loudly and making some noises that's have indicated he was crying too but I couldn't see his eyes. As I walked by to enter the bar, he asked if I had a cigarette . Right then, I knew he wasn't too drunk or much of a threat so I told him I would borrow one from some guys smoking just a few yards away. Instinctively knowing there was much more to his story, I returned with a lit cigarette for his convenience. I asked him where his shirt was. His mother had it he replied. The next question was obvious...where is your mother? He motioned towards the bar so I knew I was going back there with him. He explained that his uncle had been spending more time with his mother and that he had just got into a fight with him over the issue. His mother had left his father a few months ago and that upset him. Before I could ask if he lived with them, he told me how unbearable it was to hear "noises" from their bedroom at night. So why fight at a bar instead of home? He had no answer for that but the climax of their passive aggressive stances just played out in full public view. I asked him how his mother was taking it. He asked what I meant...I wanted to joke that I knew she was taking it "hard" from the uncle but I meant the spectacle of their confrontation. Instead he asked if I could buy him a miller lite. I promised better....a pitcher of pbr!
So in to the bar we went. And just as he described, sitting there was his mother and a very short potbellied black man who is probably in his late 60s or has been partying too hard. I couldn't believe how this man could win a physical battle with a young man in his 20s but if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, you will live your entire life thinking its clumsy i`d find out soon. Soon all four of us were talking. The obvious question was how he was the uncle....it couldn't be blood... based on color but their answers were far confusing than anything I've heard at midnight. Leaving that alone, I asked how the two were doing and why her son was so upset. She started by trying to slap him and nearly slapped me in the process. After I held her up and she regained her balance, she exclaimed that she was very happy and that her son needed to mind his business and life. The "uncle" lifted her spirits. At same moment, he was busy trying to lift her dress driving the message home. That really upset the son who jumped towards the pygmy.
The old guy had the son by his mullet and in almost like a trance state, just span him around and punched at will but never hard enough as id expect from a fight. Realizing the son wasn't getting himself out of this, and perhaps natural compassion kicking in, I pressed my left palm on the old guys face shoving him hard while pointing my finger at the lady to warn her of any ideas of defending her man. Calm resumed as the son sat on the floor. This seemed a joke to everyone except the crying son who seemed to be reeling from years of emotional damage. I was amazed at how a mother could watch their son broken like that and not care. After all I had just spent two hours talking to my mother in a conversation that was always lively and motivating. Through most of my life and work and even relationships, I've mostly disengaged from fights I don't need to be in but watching a young man crumble like yesterdays bacon was a far sad and sorry state. So I decided to be precisely honest with him. This guy will be doing your mother I said...to the chuckle of the mother who planted a kiss on my cheek at about the same time. But that had nothing to do with him and if he didn't like it as id suppose, he should move out and not hang out at bars with his mother. About his uncle, he came from India many years ago and was a martial arts instructor at some point. By how dark he was , I couldn't have guessed. He told me he was "living the American dream" and this young kid was messing it up for him. We all laughed, shared another pitcher after which I broke away and trotted home.
By  
Festus Kasyoka Mbuva