Meet My Wife.

I am so pissed as I walk towards NgongRoad to get a matatu to town. Today has been a wasted day. Totally! I do not even know what to do next.  However, I have already hatched a plan. I will come back to the office again tomorrow, and I will not leave until I see Mr Onkwani. I cross Ngong road. This time, more cautious than before. I stood at the stage watching the Matatus going to Kibera, others headed to town and others to Yaya. I was still confused. Part disappointment, part anger among some other mysterious feelings. It was so bad, that I just stood there staring at the buses coming filling up and leaving. It was almost raining. The heavy dark clouds hung over Karen as if the sky had a feeling of resentment with the busy shopping center. I was making a step and stopping. As if waiting for a hand to push me into the bus. I let people pass me. Buses came and went as well. The evening traffic started building up. Then scattered raindrops started falling. This helped me decide! I was going home! Just as I was about to enter the bus, my phone rang. I delayed a bit. I moved to the side and got my phone. James Onkwani… Calling.
Usually, such phones are ignored. You just let it ring and you convince your good side that the caller deserved an ‘ignore’. They also needed to learn their lessons towards being dependable. But this was not among the scenarios listed under “Usually”. I picked it without any hesitation.
“Habari Maina. Aaaaahhhaaa. Pole sana. Nimekuwa kwa mkutano siku mzima.”
“Okay.” “Tunapatana ama ulibadilisha msimamo?”
“Apana. In fact, niko hapa karibu Karen.”
“Sawa sawa. Nikungojee?” (As if I had been there digging trenches in Karen and he was just a by the way engagement.)
“Kwanza nakuja na wife. Tuko na yeye.”
“Okay. Ni sawa”
“Asubuhi alisema anataka kuona Huyo kijana alifanya bwana Yake asilale vizuri usiku.”
“Mkifika mtaniambia.”
The Square Karen, The Big Square
I assumed I did not hear the last part of the conversation. I was a little bit relieved. At least this will not be a wasted day. The anger I had for the man in the short term dissipated just like that. Overall though, I was still angry at him for putting me through all this BS. I crossed the road again and walked towards Karen Square. It was getting unbearably cold and I was not well dressed for this weather. Remember I came here around midday, & it was sunny when I left home. I could feel the cold but I braved it somehow. It never got to the serious levels. At Shell Petrol Station’s fence, there were hawkers selling sweaters, jumpers, trench coats among other clothing items. They were on hangers. I decided to ask how much they were being sold – maybe I could buy one. At the back of my mind, I knew where I was. That is economic situational awareness – & don’t look it up, I made it up. I expected the price to be a little bit different from the price at the CBD. Please note a little. Again, supply. You can swim in sweaters, jumpers and trench coats from Stanchart Moi Avenue, to the Ambassadeur hotel. They retail at Ksh 200/-. You can even get the extremely thin ones from at 100/- from specific guys at specific times though. Well, at Karen, at 4.45ish PM, and a few raindrops plus a beat looking young man. The sweaters were Ksh 800/-. You know how you let out that sudden burst of laughter… Like a woman in the market place who had just understood a missed gossip point… That was me at that moment. After I had composed myself… I asked again.
“Nimeskia zangu ama umesema eight?”
“Bei ni ya kuongea boss… ”
“Wacha tu nitavumilia baridi”
“Leta mia saba hamsini”
He was already removing it from the hangar. I told him there was no need because I did not have that kind of money for a sweater whose armpits will burst once my chest is back to what it used to be. Yes, I mean it. These sweaters are usually sewn on arrival at Gikomba to make them fitting for the average sized wearer. The farthest he was willing to go was 700/-. That’s a shoe and a sweater, or three sweaters or two shirts and a tie. I walked away. The humiliating bit is I did not go far because I needed to have a view of the entrance to the Big Square. The hawkers would not even give me the chance to walk to a safe distance – out of hearing range that is and they were already discussing me. Those bad things that two idle men can discuss a fellow man. Including some attachment to woman-like behavior. Weee!!! Is it only women who bargain for items in Nairobi? I felt like going back there and buying the sweater to make them stop talking or even fill their mouths with soil. But then again catching feelings under such a silly circumstance and displaying them is even more feminine & worse. They needed to shut up. I contemplate moving towards the fuel station’s shed because I would be rained on very soon. The hawkers would laugh at me and then I would have to buy a trench coat. Where the cheapest was in excess of Ksh 1800/- By the way, it’s not that I did not have that money in my pocket.. I did. I had the money but that was almost two weeks worth of food for a sweater, because of less than an hour of cold. ‘Eish! Chris! Jikaze!!!” I told myself.  I never went in the direction of the fuel pumps. I just paced along the fence overlooking Karen Square. Then I saw the man of the day, with his wife by his side. Still, this was not my cue. I told him to call me when he was here and so I would wait for his call. Waiting for that call felt like another hour. He eventually called, and after asking if I knew where The Big Square was, he told me to meet him there. I would see him as I walked in.
Desperation is a bad thing. Very bad. A few hours ago, I had the most evil plans about this man. Could have burnt his house down if I knew where it was, or flooded his office with fire hydrant, I don’t know. Something with the potential of landing me in Jail – again. But now that I had seen him, suddenly I had great love for this man. I could give him the prodigal son embrace. Again, his appearance had solved the problem of rain. Being here with him meant I could forget about being in the rain. Not today nature! Not today! Actually, he looked like the kind that would tell you: “I am parked next to… in a white car registration xyz. Meet me there.” But he would not risk it.
I got to the Big square. Spotted where they were seated. They were at the open sitting area. This was not bad. I had to give my back to the street. He already had one on me. He didn’t know it though. I approached them, shook their hands respectfully and then sat down. He then introduced his wife. A smile machine that one. She had a nice dental formula. There was something about it that was just ‘good looking’.
“Maaina, meet my wife and my angel…”
“Darling, this is the young man I was telling you about. Very young actually. But the things he is capable of… He is Maina, ama Chris. And another very difficult one.  Ni Gitau ama?”
“Nice to meet you Chris… Hauskii baridi?” *Smiling & Blushing* at this suspect. The mixture of fear and admiration blended into one.
For a lightening moment she made me felt like Quincy Maxwel from The Haves and The Have Nots.
Part II
Meet My Wife.

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