Haidhuru

I have a secret. Shameful secret. I was steamed at jamaa. Steamed enough to not talk to him properly for about 2 hours.

Sidebar 1:
On that note, you men need to quit acting like you did not get that memo. I notice that it is written to you and you’re also cc’d on a couple of the subsequent forwards. So just quit acting like you didn’t get the e-mail that says: ‘Don’t annoy your woman and then ask her “what’s up?”‘.

Especially when you and I both know that YOU know what the problem is.

Case in point. My girl and her man two weekends ago. It’s his mother’s birthday. She does not like the girl. So the couple is meeting at the restaurant to celebrate Mama Jamaa’s birthday but since they were both coming from opposite directions, they’re like “We’ll meet at the restaurant”. But he’s like 30 minutes late. And he works 20 minutes away!!!!!!!! She’d called him earlier to avoid such a situation and he’s all “I’m almost there. Go on ahead and I’ll meet you in a few”. He found my girl conversating with mama-in-law on how her job as an epidemic statistician is a ‘real job’.

Though, I would have to turn in my human rights card if I didn’t say this in the guys’ defense. To my girl - “Sucka!!!”. Sistagirl please!!! I mean, if it were me? You are NOT seeing me there before he shows up. If I have to enrich the Sultan on Oilsville to do so. I’ma circle the parking lot, read a book with the AC on blast (if it’s too hot to just sit in the car) until you show up. Maa swear! Not happening. You can file this under “when pigs levitate”. Thank you, PSA over.

Anyway, so my girl is taken aside by her man and asked “Mbona– what’s up? You’ve furad(swollen up)”. Seriously! I mean! Why would he do that? That is not necessary at all. Guys- just quit it!!! It’s wrong.

End side bar————————————————

Anyway, this is not one of those moments. Yeah, my shameful story. I was pissed off at jamaa because eh… how do I put this? I was being, well, he was er… mising his things. Mising? What’s that you say? I know you’re not Kenyan if you have to ask me that.

You know, mising… what misers do….You know- hoarding.What we used to do with bread, blue band, beer the day before the budget was read by Kibaki and Saitoti and all those Finance ministers (with a brief case held aloft). You know, not use stuff all willy-nilly (pun intended but surely not worthy) and put stuff aside for the rainy day that you knew was coming tomorrow. And I don’t really believe any of y’all who are saying that you and your siblings were never sent by your mum to buy 5 tins of margarine ‘cause the kiosk owner was under strict instructions not to sell over 2 packets.

Anyway, I digressed. So stuff was being mised. Did I hear ‘what stuff’? You know— the goodness, the succulence, the FM that is HIM

THIS ….*cue heavenly music*

is NOT being put to the use that the Good Lord intended when he told him “Go ye, and harvest it thyself”

Digression 897
Let me explain— you know how when we were kids, we’d be asked by the folks to go and cut a switch/ kiboko/ mũtĩ. Also known as ‘cruel and unusual punishment’. So, cutting down a kiboko is an abused child knack. If it’s too small— your folks will go and cut down a tree trunk and proceed to whup you withthe substitute (like the time my brother brought a paw-paw/ papaya ‘branch’ for whupping *still laughing at that*– that thing is hollow!!) . Back to beating implements- if the kiboko is too big, well, what’s the point? Your folks might as well have picked it. So you had to be wise and pick up a sturdy looking switch- but not so sturdy that it would have been a first-draft pick for the folks.

So apply that principle here. There are many men who have been blest by the Lord and he gave to them abundantly. A whole basket full in fact. You know, goods aplenty. Then there are those, who were told, much like errant children “Go cut your switch for yourselves” and hauu!!!sweetJesusonabicycle — yes— they did not stint. They didn’t do that pen knife daintily swipe at a twig business-no!!!! These are serious gentlemen. They went to work with a machete/ panga and did harvesting proper.

Hmmm…. So I was not being invited to partake of this goodness. And methinks it was a bit shameful of me- if not just a tad bit insensitive to be mad at him for withholding as he was hoarding the succulence as — um…um…. his grandma had passed away.

What??? It was like at least 4 days later!!

*whistling “hamnitish-tishi”*.

So on day five, I’m like “It’s of how?” And he’s like “You’re out of your African mind”

Boooooo!!!

But my girl chastised me as she told me that I should have given him a grace period– like two more days. PS… this is the girl who knows where to get the best extract of ginko biloba and dem as she had to ‘recuperate’ her man “quickly quickest” (her words) as he got over the flu as ‘it had been a minute– bana! Me I wasn’t sick! Kwanza those strokes of … ” And she’s chastising me?! Sheeesh!

But perhaps this was shameful. But it’s too big to fit on a post card. So this is my confession.

What’s your shameful secret?