So I've talked much about
how wives are stolen in Kamba Land,if you cannot afford dowry but very
little about returning them if things go south. Well my friends that's a
complex story. The girl's family can feel slighted and decide on
revenge of some form... Usually involving some brute force so many men
opt to stick it out . What happens when one is hell-bend on returning
one especially if she's made his life a living hell?
That was the case in the year 2000 when a friend'a girlfriend decided to invite themselves to their house. We had all gone to college after graduating from Kitondo High school together. Nairobi life awaited us and with it came a different kind of women than village life. Diversity was the norm rather than the strange. Many of my friends broke up with their high school sweethearts as their lives evolved and feelings / life philosophies varied and shifted. But one girl wasn't going to take this lying down and decided to do something about it. I'll leave names out since there's quite a lot of people on Facebook who know this story well. She moved into his home while he was in campus hundreds of miles away and essentially became his common law wife. She was good with the in laws, neighbors and everyone else but she was crazy to say the least. She would grill him on his every move and many times things got so awkward he'd stay at my house for days ok end. That got worse when he met a very smart luhya girl at one of the college parties. To be honest, we were all after he but he got there first. True to our pact, we would stay away from that point on and such we did. But now she wanted to meet his parents and he was smitten . As a group, which extended to thousands of village mates, we had a general consensus that he had made a right choice. But how do you get rid of the one at home? That would prove easier said than done.
BY
At this point, she was becoming more insecure and that only served to worsen her grip on his movements. They call that in America stalking.... Not to the extend of medusa but pretty close. We got together for our friend. Not many choices were on the table and we anticipated retribution from her side of Kamba Land if they found our action reprehensible . We almost certainly pay up a few cows but most worrisome was the real chance of a physical confrontation.
We decided to send our crazy neighbor Muema , a living modern Tarzan to do our dirty job for a small fee. Intimidating , well over 6.6 feet tall and powerful, he was a force to reckon with when u add a few unhinged screws. His loyalty to our group made this a safe option but also brought upon heavy risks if she rebelled and fought the "aided" trip.
This had to happen at night when parents are usually asleep as it also brings it's own set of problems..... But that's a story for another day. This was problematic and impractical.
Just when we felt completely helpless and almost urged our neighbor to suck it up and settle, an idea spring up from Mbeke, one of the most athletic and intuitive village boy. The girl was highly superstitious so why not essentially cover ourselves in white sheets then in the dead of the night carry her off after convincing her that we were "aimu" which means ancestors spirits . Almost everyone agreed that this would be risky and dumb but so far it was the most of ingenious plans available. She wouldn't return if she thought ancestors spirits didn't want her there. She most likely wouldn't resist much either but that was debatable .
That night, our friend left the door open and at exactly midnight, about 20 "aimus" showed up. She woke up shaken , tried to wake him up in vain and in low baritone, Muema explained that this was her ancestors and that her bf couldn't hear or see us to assist but she would go with us as this place was very bad for her. She squirmed but not much else from that. The dog was barking so we had to trek on as soon as possible . She walked slow and almost got unconvinced by the gate at which point Muema put her on his shoulders and got into a brisk walk. 12 miles or no talking, we were by her fathers compound where we let her wall herself in before we dissipated into the savannah grasslands only to meet up half a mile downstream near waani river. I was still laughing at how easy this was. We walked to mbumbuni to get a beer where bars were still open but also to return the sheets from the local lodge where we had rented them. We also were careful to wear print less shoes as elders can track your feet or shoe print with stunning accuracy. Somehow, we had followed through with a stupid idea successfully. It wouldn't be our last .... Or the last time we depended on luck in our escapades .
By
That was the case in the year 2000 when a friend'a girlfriend decided to invite themselves to their house. We had all gone to college after graduating from Kitondo High school together. Nairobi life awaited us and with it came a different kind of women than village life. Diversity was the norm rather than the strange. Many of my friends broke up with their high school sweethearts as their lives evolved and feelings / life philosophies varied and shifted. But one girl wasn't going to take this lying down and decided to do something about it. I'll leave names out since there's quite a lot of people on Facebook who know this story well. She moved into his home while he was in campus hundreds of miles away and essentially became his common law wife. She was good with the in laws, neighbors and everyone else but she was crazy to say the least. She would grill him on his every move and many times things got so awkward he'd stay at my house for days ok end. That got worse when he met a very smart luhya girl at one of the college parties. To be honest, we were all after he but he got there first. True to our pact, we would stay away from that point on and such we did. But now she wanted to meet his parents and he was smitten . As a group, which extended to thousands of village mates, we had a general consensus that he had made a right choice. But how do you get rid of the one at home? That would prove easier said than done.
BY
At this point, she was becoming more insecure and that only served to worsen her grip on his movements. They call that in America stalking.... Not to the extend of medusa but pretty close. We got together for our friend. Not many choices were on the table and we anticipated retribution from her side of Kamba Land if they found our action reprehensible . We almost certainly pay up a few cows but most worrisome was the real chance of a physical confrontation.
We decided to send our crazy neighbor Muema , a living modern Tarzan to do our dirty job for a small fee. Intimidating , well over 6.6 feet tall and powerful, he was a force to reckon with when u add a few unhinged screws. His loyalty to our group made this a safe option but also brought upon heavy risks if she rebelled and fought the "aided" trip.
This had to happen at night when parents are usually asleep as it also brings it's own set of problems..... But that's a story for another day. This was problematic and impractical.
Just when we felt completely helpless and almost urged our neighbor to suck it up and settle, an idea spring up from Mbeke, one of the most athletic and intuitive village boy. The girl was highly superstitious so why not essentially cover ourselves in white sheets then in the dead of the night carry her off after convincing her that we were "aimu" which means ancestors spirits . Almost everyone agreed that this would be risky and dumb but so far it was the most of ingenious plans available. She wouldn't return if she thought ancestors spirits didn't want her there. She most likely wouldn't resist much either but that was debatable .
That night, our friend left the door open and at exactly midnight, about 20 "aimus" showed up. She woke up shaken , tried to wake him up in vain and in low baritone, Muema explained that this was her ancestors and that her bf couldn't hear or see us to assist but she would go with us as this place was very bad for her. She squirmed but not much else from that. The dog was barking so we had to trek on as soon as possible . She walked slow and almost got unconvinced by the gate at which point Muema put her on his shoulders and got into a brisk walk. 12 miles or no talking, we were by her fathers compound where we let her wall herself in before we dissipated into the savannah grasslands only to meet up half a mile downstream near waani river. I was still laughing at how easy this was. We walked to mbumbuni to get a beer where bars were still open but also to return the sheets from the local lodge where we had rented them. We also were careful to wear print less shoes as elders can track your feet or shoe print with stunning accuracy. Somehow, we had followed through with a stupid idea successfully. It wouldn't be our last .... Or the last time we depended on luck in our escapades .
By
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