That up there, is reason no.2,586,354 why I am not wife material.
The nature of my job as a Marketer sometimes sees me send text messages to over 3,000 clients. Since the task is somewhat mundane, I have absent-mindedly dialed wrong digits, sending texts to unintended recipients. Of these, there are those that call or text back and politely tell me that I may have got the wrong number to which I profusely apologize. Of course there are those that ignore the messages all together and I only realize my mistake upon receiving the delivery notification. But there is one such incident I will never forget.
I was sending text messages on a Friday afternoon informing clients on the company’s next big event and the where it will be held. As usual, I got one number wrong and off the text message went and into the inbox of a wrong recipient. Again, I didn’t notice. Life went on as usual, the day ended, went home, slept, woke up on Saturday, did what I do on Saturdays, went back home in the evening and got into bed thoroughly exhausted. On Sunday morning, still under my covers dead asleep, one of my phones rang . I reached out for it, receiving the call with a very groggy hello.
“Wewe dio maraya ya bwana yagu?!!”
“He.., hello?”
“Wacha kujifanya…, maraya wewe! Unaadikia bwana yagu mesanj ate mukutane sijui wapi, sidio?”
“Madam tafadhali”
“Tafadhari nini? Uwachane na bwana yagu, umeskia? Na nikipata mesanj kutoka kwako kwa simu yake tena nitakuja huko uko nikusharaze! Mimi ni ware wabaya! Umeskia? Maraya wewe!!
And that’s how I woke up that Sunday morning. Shocked.., but pleased to have discovered a new business venture that I wouldn’t mind sharing.
There’s money to be made from insecure married women or insecure women in relationships. You know the kind that goes through their husband’s phone, keeps tabs on his whereabouts, wants to know who he is talking to, etc etc.., these are a gold mine. All you need is a good lawyer, a phone, a suggestive text message, airtime and a tethered husband’s number. Press send and wait. If you get a message or phone call like the one I received that Sunday morning, run to the Communications Commission of Kenya (CCK), then go to court, sue the woman, cash in, give your lawyer his cut and then smile all the way to the bank.
Back to my story.
There are antiques I am incapable of pulling off in a marriage, and fighting for/over my husband with another woman is one of them. Even this busted thing (a post is coming on that), Ciku does for women is just down right low. Or getting an ugly mboch so that your husband doesn’t do her. LOL!! How, for the love of paper clips, do you fight over an adult? Where do you get the energy and cahoonies to choose another adult’s destiny? When did women forget that their men have a right to choose who they want to be with and who they didn’t? And this is irrespective of whether a man is married or not. I’m not advocating for adultery, but honestly, if you have a wayward man, ladies, there’s nothing you can do about that. Even the harshest concoction from Loliondo will not cure his ailment.
And yes, I too have ‘lost’ my men to other women and sure, it hurts. But I don’t go around insulting women and lowering my dignity for a man that doesn’t want to be with me. If my time has ran out, it’s ran out. And the day I discovered this was the day I discovered how liberating relationships can be. Here’s my story:
I was dating this guy back in Uni, loved him with all of me (yes, I am capable of loving a man. I told you, I don’t hate men). So it happened that the genius of a man (I’m a sucker for brains) wanted to pursue a 2nd degree. I didn’t, and from the looks of things, I’d graduate and leave him in Uni while he stayed on to chase his dream. Being adults about it, we sat down and objectively looked at the consequences of this development. Among other things, it was apparent that we wouldn’t see each other as often as we did, we’d have to make time on weekends when we both weren’t busy. Now that would still present problems – him a student, me in the job market. After a long period of silenced deep thought, with little options in our favor, I spoke out loud what I thought was our last resort.
“Perhaps we should break up.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Think about it. It wouldn’t work, with the distance, plus I’d hate to deny you the opportunity to be with a chic on Campus. I also don’t know what it’s like out there in the corporate world, but I bet it’s different from Uni”
(long silence and then dude said)
“Why don’t we give it a try. I’d hate to lose you and what we have.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, we’ve got something good going here. Why should we just give up without trying?”
And so we tried. Correction. I tried. I sent text messages that were hardly replied, made calls that were seldom answered and 6 months later I came to learn that the man I loved was now in a relationship with a friend of mine. I didn’t fret over it. I would bump into chica sometimes and we’d exchange pleasantries. No hard feelings. No bile. And Lord knows, that man still has a special place in my heart. Unfortunately, we can never have what we had.
For lack of a better cliché
A year later, I’d date another man, not as smart as the other, who played me with some other chic. Such is life. When the secret was out in the open, I told him he needed to make a choice because I wasn’t in the habit of sharing my personal effects, plus I wasn’t going to fight over him. Apparently, the last statement rubbed him the wrong way:
“You wouldn’t fight over me?!”
“Hell no.”
“Why? Me I would fight for you!”
“You’re a guy. Guys think it’s cool to fight. Brings out the dude in them.”
“So even if I fought for you, you wouldn’t be impressed?”
“Do I look like a lioness in the Mara hoping to get a male soon, now that it’s mating season?”
“Ok then, I choose you.”
“Too late.”
