The Lily Review » Relationships

Falling into love

cazz — Wed, 02 May 2012 09:29:34 +0000

My teen years were plagued by intense crushes that had me crying into the night, struggling for breath if my crush walked into the room or appeared on TV. Endless hours spent day dreaming of what our lives would be like. Ultimately, he would adore me and we would live happily ever after.

Crush number 1… standard 8. I was pint sized, still flat chested but witty and extrovert. Ed had already broken his voice, had the shadow of a moustache and bulging mini-triceps. Quite the dish. I loved from afar, usually collapsing if he so much as looked at me. Well he fell for someone else and at the end of the year school dance I, misty eyed, let go of my crush as he danced with his new girlfriend. Optimistic I forged forward knowing without a shadow of doubt that love would triumph and my moment would come.

This attitude kept me going for years. Enter first love. He was older and wiser presumably (I was 20, he was 22). I fell for him completely and within no time dreams of our life together took over. Oh the joy of young love; long walks, holding hands, lunch at Wimpy’s and hanging out at Carni when budget would allow. All that mattered was being together. He was going to be a keeper. In the end he cheated on me with a friend and through endless tears and replays of Boyz to Men’s “End of the road’, I began to learn the art of self preservation as I fought to remain dignified and not compromise. Monogamy or the highway mate.

My perception of love began to change. Fast forward to 6 more boyfriends and a marriage ending in divorce and what I knew for sure was falling in love was a joke. A big fat joke. No more tears of joy, only of frustration. Every approach by a man treated with suspicion and down right hostility. In less than 20 years I had gone from optimistic to “please your joking right?”

In the 6 years of my separation, I really had a chance to take stock. After all the ranting and abusing I finally got that what I really needed to do was re-invent my relationship with myself first. I felt battered and terribly disappointed; unattractive and simply not good enough. I needed to remember who I really was. I wanted to have the biggest and best love affair of all with myself.

I started by introducing the kids to me. The real me, not the sugar coated mum but me; the good, bad and downright ugly. I shed the friends I had outgrown. I re-discovered my creative side and made more time for me. I learnt how to empower others with the word NO and put my needs at the top of the pile for a change. And I tried everything that I could without breaking the law; dancing and hanging out all night, blind dates, holidays alone, reading in bed for hours on lazy mornings, exploring other religious beliefs and spirituality. I filled me up piece by piece.

The woman I am today is a hungry one. Hungry for knowledge, experiences, love, wonder. One who has fallen madly in love with me; amazed by what I have accomplished and what I have endured. Grace is such a gift. I am inspired by the love and dedication of family and friends and learning daily the treasure of giving back. I feel calmer and more content as life simply unfolds. I love to love.

Cheating Women

Mwesh — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 06:00:09 +0000

This is one of the most controversial topics that I avoid as the plague but here goes. Women cheat and there is no two ways about it. The percentage that does not cheat is like 15% (that’s my rough estimate). I had a long think about this.

The time we women sit around each other saying its girl time, it’s all about our husbands, our boyfriends, how the sex was so awful, how we think that our men are cheating on us and how scandalous the bitch he is sleeping with is ugly as hell. It is always about how you met this fly guy in the lift or in the shopping mall the other day, how you would just want to eat that chocolate of a man with a spoon. We appreciate our brothers so much but here is the deal.

A woman will not cheat unless she has been pushed to that limit or has been given a reason to.

What makes men think that we do not know that you have a Tasha or a Valentine or Njeri who you are in constant touch with each and every moment? What makes you think that we do not know when you have had dinner with a woman and the nature of your meet was not business or friendship? We know. We do not like showing it off because we try as much as possible to avoid an argument. We have too much pride to step up and ask when we ultimately know that there is another woman.

So what do we do? We look for an exit plan. The man we met at the mall (we already know the schedule and the times he pops in) is the same guy who we will make sure to bump into. Our trips to the mall will be more often than usual; whether to the food court, the salon at the mall or take the kids to the arcade to see this guy. It becomes a vicious circle and then one day, lunch at the food court and the kids hanging out with him. If he is good company, the kids will not tell you. They have someone who treats them so well that it is a secret not worth telling otherwise it will be all over. Nights out with the girls will be almost every weekend, while it is to see Mr Handsome and believe me this always passes the men(unless he is bright enough which I believe our men are. Though they are so slow).

See the thing with women is that once you realize that your significant other is not doing what he should do, we go quiet and we find solace with someone who well, treats us right. We like attention, period! There is no reason a woman will cheat with no valid reason. Deep down there is an urge to say GO F**K YOURSELF, but we keep it in because we have so many things to protect including your ego.

The funny thing that I have come to realize is that when you flip the script on your man to tell him that you may be sleeping with someone else, the thought is so revolting that they do not want to hear it and walk away to go and absorb it. On the other hand, they do not actually think that the same revolting feeling goes on inside us and find no reason to apologize. I heard someone say that a man can cheat because he can. Guess what, a woman can cheat because she has been forced to and she won’t stop once it gets better. Just because your woman gives you the silent treatment in an instant and lasts for a day, go back and do the checklist and find out what you have done. Erase and rectify what you have done or think you have to her before she decides to go MIA and you are over and done. There is always a reason for everything. Ask KANDI…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sYRiwOKJvtg

Bad Boy meets Church Girl – Part 4

lawrence — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 06:00:54 +0000

I stopped, sighed, looked at her and made a futile effort at offering a goofy smile. For one reason or the other, my heart beat faster than usual. I could swear my sweat pores were beginning to let loose and I felt hazy. This wasn’t good.

“Fair enough. Let’s hear it Stella”

“Alright. I was 18 at the time…”

“How old are you now?”

“I turn 23 in August”

“Oh, ok.”

“Having been brought up in a particularly staunch Christian background, Church was my life. We had just moved back into the City from North Rift where my Dad had been posted on duty. My Mom knew someone from the Church of the Living God so we started worshipping there. Before long I was involved in various Church activities, spending more and more time at the Church”

“So far so good”

Laughter.

“Anyway, I was working closely with Brother Chrispin. He was studying to become a Pastor and was in charge of all Youth Activities at the Church. We grew close. He was nice to me, and honestly I liked and respected him. He knew the Bible back and forth, and had the best advice especially for a girl as young as I was. Quite often we would work late into the evening and he would walk me to the bus stop. I felt quite safe for as long as I was with him”.

The pause that came after this, plus her face turning grim told me that the part I dreaded was about to begin.

“One Saturday, we had just finished going through some documents in the Church office when he asked if he could make us some tea at the main house.”

“He lived in the Church compound?”

“Yes. I didn’t think twice about it.”

“Alone?”

“He had a servant, and when guest Pastors visited they would also stay there. On this particular day though, the servant was on leave and there were no guest Pastors around.”

“I’m not one to Judge but it sounds to me like you two were putting yourselves into temptation.”

“Will you let me finish?”

“Yes, Sorry.”

“So we went to the main house. He went in and fixed the tea while I sampled some CDs in the Living room. A few moments later he brought the tea and served. We sat and started drinking while discussing the week’s activities.”

“Let me guess. That’s the last thing you remember until you woke up later not knowing what had happened, with a heavy head and your tender areas feeling strange?”

“I wish. That would have been a million times better.”

“Let me spare you the details Lawrence. One moment we were sitting there enjoying some tea, next moment he was on me, his eyes bloodshot and his face so scary I was more scared for my life than anything else. After a moment’s struggle he found his way with me, and the rest is history.”

“Damn. I..I’m not sure what to say.” I truly did not.

“He didn’t have to warn me not to say anything to anyone. The mere thought of people knowing what had happened scared Baby Jesus out of me. It would kill my mum instantly.”

“Are you allowed to say ‘Scared Baby Jesus out of me’?”

“You are such a bad listener Lawrence!”

“Ok ok, mouth shut.”

“It crushed me on the inside. Telling someone was out of the question, but holding it inside and bearing it all on my own took its toll on me. What was even worse was what it did to my faith. I questioned God, his Power, his will for my Life, his Church…”

Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t telling a story anymore. She was reliving the past in her mind, and it wasn’t doing justice to her otherwise pretty face.

“Stella, I’m going to fast forward this. The person I have known for the past two months is obviously stronger and more avid in her faith. Life is fuc…uhm…life is harsh sometimes…”

“Harsh doesn’t begin to explain it. For the next three years I turned into someone else. Absorbed in my own wretched world, I found solace in places and things I wouldn’t have thought of before. I lost my self worth and immersed myself into a dark world. I simply rebelled. No one knew why. Again, I will spare you the details.”

“That I appreciate.”

“You think you are a Bad Boy Lawrence? I’ll tell you what you are. You are just a boy, too scared of the realities of life to face them. You choose to play and act like the world is one big playground.”

“That’s a little below the belt don’t you think?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just saying until life properly slaps you in the face, then all you have is a fantasy world.”

“So what took you back to Church?”

“My mom. The one you met.”

“That’s your mom?? Why does she look so frail?”

“That’s a story for another day. For three years she watched me rebel against everything we believed in and all she offered was open arms whenever I needed them. She was hurting more than I was and after a while I couldn’t take it any more.”

“Meanwhile Brother Chrispin had permanently relocated to the UK on Missionary mission. That also helped my resolve to go back to Church since I wouldn’t have to see his face again.”

“Does your Mom know about this now?”

“Yes. I eventually told her about it. But she is too weak now to raise hell about it. And I made her promise me she wouldn’t pursue it any further.”

“Have you dated anyone? Since the Chrispin guy that is.”

“No. I haven’t. Until recently men had only been mere tools to me. I couldn’t stand them unless I had…you know, needs.”

“So what made you…I mean…why the hell…why did you…”

“You are not a Church Boy. You have an interesting outlook towards life and you are too silly to take life seriously. I find that refreshing.”

“I know that should make me feel good, but I feel like a tool.”

“You are. It’s obvious to me that you are not looking for a serious relationship Lawrence. You simply wanted to conquer this territory so that you could brag to your friends. If you think about it, you are also using me.”

As far as slaps go, this was a super good slap in my face. My pride was hurt and I felt like a little boy caught pants down with sugar crumbs all over his face. I was not about to, I couldn’t, deny the fact that she was too darn painfully right.

“Let me get this straight. You don’t want to be in a relationship with me…”

“Not you. I don’t want to be in a relationship. Period!”

“So what are we doing here exactly?” Oh God, I couldn’t believe I had just asked the one question reserved for girls.

“You tell me. You are the guy here.” Slap!

“Do I still have the option of walking out?”

“Yes, but I would rather you don’t.”

“And why is that?”

“I like your company Lawrence. Your easy going attitude is…”

“Enough about my easy going attitude. Look Stella…”

“Hmmm…the caged Lion is coming out finally!” She chided coyly. For a Church Girl, Stella was too witty and I dare say too impish too. I found that irresistibly hot. It was a welcome breather though as we both laughed it off though a tad bit awkwardly.

“Listen. The world I live in is interesting, it is fun and it is adventurous. In my world we don’t judge people. And when we meet girls with back sides that are designed for Hollywood, well…”

“You have some fun with them too, I know.”

“Exactly. You are a grown girl Stella, so I’m sure you know what you are up to. Where our paths meet, there only 3 rules: Have Fun, Have some Adventure and don’t Judge. If you can live with that, I’m here to stay.”

“No Sex.”

“I’m ready when you are ready.”

“It will never happen Lawrence.”

“Never say Never!”

“We’ll see.”

And the smile I had seen that first time was back again.

Photo credit: magurka & jomeriano

Bad Boy meets Church Girl – Part 3

lawrence — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 06:00:39 +0000

Now, where was I?

Aah yes. 5^th Sunday, and there I was all suited up and polished. To ensure this day went according to plan, I had forsaken Kamau’s since Thursday night. This was a first. My very dear Kamau actually called on Sunday morning to confirm that I was not sick in bed, or dead for that matter. I am yet to decipher whether Kamau honestly cares about me, or the healthy revenue I bring him.

On this day of the Lord, Stella, whose name I had not gotten to know to this point, was on the podium, among a lot of equally ardent, equally manicured, equally radiant and equally saved ladies. They were providing background vocals to a voluptuous lead singer whose voice was so mellow it almost distracted me from my target. Stella was really into this Church stuff.

‘How is mum today?’

That’s the easiest pick up line I have ever had to use.

She turned round, a confused look on her face.

‘Excuse me?’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Lawrence, we met last Sunday? Lost and found scarf…’

‘Oh yes, I remember you!’

‘Yes. Great Service today. And I have to say, you ladies sure can belt out some praise songs.’

‘Well thank you.’ There went the smile and slight blush again.

‘Usher, Praise and Worship Lady, Guider of the elderly…is there anything you can’t do!?’

A shy giggle ensued.

‘Oh no, just different roles you know?’

Slight pause, eye contact (this trick is fool proof I tell you) and a smile to end it all.

‘You seem busy, but may I ask one thing of you before getting out of your way?’

‘Of course.’

‘Have coffee with me some time.’

This one is from the old dating rule book. Don’t Ask, Tell.

Shy chuckle, gaze around the church compound, down then back at me. If she was British, her face would be turning pink by now. It was obvious she had never gotten such an unwavering invitation from a man before. How Church guys hit on Church Girls I don’t know yet.

Stella was truly an honest Church Girl, with great ambitions as far as getting into heaven was concerned. Thanks to her I made my first ever visit to a Children’s home, something that I have almost turned into a routine nowadays. For two months I courted her. For a guy who prefers borderline flirtations and innuendos when dealing with the opposite side, this was not an easy feat. Two months is all I had anyway before forming a committee of experts to decide on the fate of this venture.

Then it happened. Out of nowhere, it happened.

“Lawrence, you are not a Church guy.”

The Macadamia nut I had been crunching leisurely instantly found its way down the wrong tract. Cough cough, teary eyes, one hand raised to assure her I was fine while the other desperately squeezed my besieged throat…eventually I composed myself and we had a good laugh out of it.

“Ehm, Sorry about that.”

“It’s ok. Well?”

“You didn’t really ask a question, so I don’t know what to say.”

“Am I right?”

“What makes you say that?”

“For starters, whenever we are out of the Church gates you never discuss anything religious. You do away with the Praise Gods and Bless Yous and you are well, not a Church guy.”

“Hmmm…is that it?”

“You want more? Ok. When you think I’m not looking, to check out my behind like a hungry vulture.”

At this point I had to stifle what could have been another Macadamia nut attack.

“Are you trying to say Church guys don’t check out Girls’ behinds? Especially when the behind in question is so…God-have-mercy-like?”

Laughter.

“No, but they do a much better job at it than you.”

“Alright alright. Let’s say you are right. What are you still doing going out with me 2 months later?”

“I like you!”

“Is that it?”

“You know what my Pastor says? Follow your heart.”

“Even when your heart leads you to a fellow who hadn’t stepped on Church grounds in 6 years as of two Months ago?”

“Wow. I did not know that.”

“Oops! Alright, so the secret is out. Do you like me any less?”

“No. Actually I like you more.”

“Huh?”

“You endured two Months of something you obviously hate, just to be with me?”

“That shouldn’t surprise you Stella. Men do crazier things to be with Girls as hot as you.”

“Is that all you see in me? A hot Girl?”

“I would be lying if I said that’s all. At first, it was. Then I got to know you.”

“So what else do you see in me?”

“You have a good heart. That’s rare. You went out with me despite knowing I was a fake. You are open minded, but not stupid. And I see how you take care of your granma. Gets to me every time.”

“I haven’t been this way for long you know?”

“Reeeaally!”

“No. Now that we know about you, I’ll tell you about me. Then, we both have a decision to make.”

“This feels like a Movie.”

“Wait until you hear my story. I’m taking a big risk here Lawrence. But I hate living a Lie. After I tell you the story, if you want to walk away, I will understand. No hard feelings. You won’t be the first.”

At this point I could feel the Macadamia nut making its way back up. What could sweet, saved Stella possibly have to tell me that would make me, Lawrence, walk away? Dear Lord this is not how I planned this to go. Church Boy meets Church Girl. How complicated could that be?

I was about to find out.

Bad Boy Meets Church Girl – Part 2

lawrence — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 06:00:45 +0000

Fourth Sunday was a prowling Sunday.

I have zero recollection of what the pastor shouted about on that day, and my wandering eye was met several times by frowns from other worshipers. Tim was helping with the search. Where was this girl?

Then I felt it. At the recesses of my manscience I felt it. She was nearby, close enough for me to see her, probably even touch her, but man I just couldn’t find her! I nudged Tim and told him to look closer, much closer.

Then I realized it. In my efforts at being a subtle hunter, I had totally forgotten to look right behind me. She had to be there. But how would I turn my head all the way round without my intentions being embarrassingly betrayed? I didn’t have to wait too long for an answer. The pastor currently proclaiming something or the other, while pacing back and forth on the podium, stopped on his tracks, and ordered all of us to stand up and greet our neighbors. I jumped up, probably a little too enthusiastically. To cover my tracks, I must have greeted at least seven people on my pew before I turned round to extend the blessings to my fellow Christians on the row behind. Brothers and Sisters I was right. She wasn’t ushering today. She was another worshipper just like me. A strikingly stunning, radiant and oh-Jesus-have-mercy sexy girl who seemed absolutely oblivious of the effect she had on the male universe.

It was time to invoke the lingering hand shake. This time she would have to notice my smile. This time she would look into my eyes and God save my soul if I did not manage get a response from her.

I didn’t.

Her smile was cordial, pretty much the same smile she was giving the rest of the congregation. She looked into my eyes but only for a split second before moving on to her next target. With no eye contact, a lingering hand shake would have been a tad awkward so I grudgingly let go. The old lady next to her, whose hand was fervently awaiting an exchange of blessings with me, would have to find another worshiper as I was done with greetings for the day.

I had to suffer the torment of utter impotence for the remainder of that service. Meanwhile I strategized and exchanged telepathic glances with Tim.

Tim: So what do you think bro?

Lawrence: Can’t do much in here. Have to wait until end of service.

Tim: And then what?

Lawrence: Not sure, but I will find a way.

Tim: You have great faith man. Pastor James would be proud.

Lawrence: When you live my life, faith, good looks and charm is all you have.

Tim: I feel you. All the best.

Lawrence: Thanks.

Two cruel hours followed and eventually the service was over. I remained sitted, deep in meditation on the risk I was just about to undertake. The nice old lady whose handshake I had just ignored was obviously someone very close to this girl. Judging from how frail she looked, my guess was that she was the girl’s grandmother. The sad fact was that the girl was happily holding the old lady’s hand, and it was clear she would not be letting go of that hand until they reached their destination.

I was not about to wait another week to officially meet this girl. It was time.

“Excuse me, uhm, I’m Sorry. I think Mum dropped this”

“Uh, I…I don’t think so. Mum is this yours?”

“What? No!”

“Oh, I found it right where you were sitted, I assumed it belonged to you”

“Sorry, it’s not ours but thanks”

Finally I got the smile I had been aching for!!

“It’s alright. Where do we take lost and found items? Uhm, I am new at the Church”

“Oh, welcome to our Church!” That was Granma.

“Thank you Mum. I feel blessed”

“Just go back in through the main door, on your left you will see a big basket, just drop it there”

“Thanks. I am sorry to disturb you Mum, have a blessed day”

“No problem Son. God bless you”

“You too. And thank you”

I looked at the girl when saying that last line; slowly, all I needed was three seconds of eye contact. And I got it.

“You are welcome”

And there was the smile again, and I could have sworn a slight blush too!!

The scarf belonged to Christine, Tim’s Wife. She wasn’t particularly amused by the thought of her scarf being brought into my Philandering ways, but then again she silently hopes that one day I meet a girl who will steal my heart, and put an end to the shenanigans. If the Scarf would help, she was in. Christine has a good heart.

In my line of work, we call that ‘an entrance’. Fifth Sunday would be ‘a foot in’.

A few good men

cazz — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 06:00:39 +0000

Mature successful woman looking for her ideal man. Your kind, intelligent, can hold your own, confident, and articulate. You know exactly how to treat a woman like a queen…consistently and without complaint.

These are the sort of postings you find on dating sites, thousands of profiles that you are either intrigued by or skip over. I’ve joined quite a number of dating sites through the years, joining the “single and free” to mingle with the rest of the cyber lonely hearts, adventurers and imposters.

Determined to make that once in a lifetime connection I turned online to meet a variety of men in the shortest period of time. Clubs and bars were just not doing it for me but I will say the occasional house party offers better prospects. I don’t enjoy church functions, wedding committees and those sorts of gatherings so when I say the pickings have been lean I really do mean it.

And from this online adventure I’ve had four actual dates; two with guys who turned out to be married, one with a too young too broke and the final with the poster boy for the booty call lifestyle. Suffice to stay it has been a learning curve.

With time I’ve found it easier to be clear about what I don’t want than dealing with the bucket list of what I definitely need. Seems damn near impossible the other way around. So I don’t want a clingy, self centered or insecure guy who can’t hold a conversation, is unmotivated and uninterested in social issues and news in general. I have three children so obviously he can’t hate children, can’t be broke or have no sense of style. White socks absolutely not allowed. Also he can’t be shorter than me, geek like or a wimp. Oh and not fat. I’m petite and I am terrified of being crushed. Mmmmm…he cannot be more than 2 years younger than me. So there you have it… my deal breakers.

I will admit that my “I will not accept nor compromise” list has not made things easier but having a clear development plan has protected me in many ways and kept me clear headed in foggy or dark times. So when a friend set me up on a blind date I was expecting a half hour chat at most before I set my exit strategy into motion. Mr New Guy turned out to be a 10 years my junior sandal wearing geek…he was also incredibly engaging, funny, respectful and most importantly his eyes didn’t glaze over or dart around in panic when I talked about my children. Three hours later I really did have to leave. He asked if he could see me again. The list forgotten I said yes.

I spent three months talking myself out of dating Mr New Guy and finally gave up trying to cheat myself out of happiness. Yes we have a lot of things to work out but getting to know each other without being bogged down by sexual overtones and excessive cynicism is slowly restoring my faith in that tribe called men. There are a few good men still left out there and so begins my journey back into intimacy and love.

How desperately we wish to maintain our trust in those we love! In the face of everything, we try to find reasons to trust. Because losing faith is worse than falling out of love
Borrowed from Housewife to Heretic by Sonia Johnson

Photo credit: rolve

Bad Boy meets Church Girl – Part 1

lawrence — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 06:00:53 +0000

In the beginning there was God, who without a doubt was fully clothed in majestic robes and clouds to cover any sections the robes couldn’t. Why he decided that his human creations would roam the earth in bare nakedness I will never understand. Thanks to the so called Original Sin, you and I can now adorn the latest in fashion wear. I guess everything happens for a reason.

Like I mentioned in my last post, I dared to rediscover the tenets of my spirituality which Ma had so ardently instilled into me. This was back in the day when my lower half seemed to dwell on the pre-original sin period, and thus preferred to go bare. Being a Roman Catholic did not seem to be yielding the desired results in my soul, and having watched a few of those high powered Protestant Sunday morning sessions on TV, I figured why not try out these folks? So I called Tim.

He and his wife (her name is Christine by the way) are now devout members of a nearby church named Church of the Living God. I will not dwell on the implication this name has on other churches and the gods they serve. Let me also add that I use the word devout very loosely considering Tim would not be caught dead in a church if it wasn’t for Christine. To sustain this new found obligation, he has grown a disturbing liking for Gospel Music. During the worst part of these services i.e. the sermon, he goes into a temporary trance and replays the songs in his head. Those two hours fly by like a kite. If Christine knew this she would flip.

Tim was ecstatic at my proposition to join them for the next Sunday’s service. The thought of having me sitting next to him in a Church was far too amusing. But I was serious. I was going to give Salvation a shot, get me a Saved girl, preferably one of those fine mamacitas who I see leading Praise and Worship on TV, take her home to Ma, get this marriage issue out of the family discussions, get a couple of little Lawrenzoninos and consider that chapter closed. What could possibly go wrong?

Two Sundays went by. Two Sundays in which I woke up earlier than my body is designed to, took shots of really strong coffee to postpone the hangover for 3 hours, and waited upon Tim and his beloved Christine to pick me up. Two Sundays in which I had to watch two Pastors subjecting their Voice boxes to inexplicable atrocities. If you have a microphone, why feel the need to shout your voice box hoarse?

Two Sundays in which I had to part with Six rounds worth of mulla thanks to the watchful eye of a prowling usher, and the accompaniment of some Junior Pastor proclaiming doom for those of us who did not dig deeper into our pockets. Two Sundays in which I watched the rest of humanity feeling things I could not feel, speaking languages I could not understand and ranting ‘Yes!’ and ‘Jesus!’ over and over so many times I can still hear them in my sleep. It was torture.

I have to admit though that the musical spin doctors in this Church can give the DJ at Kamau’s a serious run for his money. I also got to watch some popular local Gospel artists perform live which was quite a treat. On this note I made peace with my departed 6 rounds worth.

On the Third Sunday I said a silent prayer to God before heading out to meet Tim. The Bible says that Three is a symbol of perfection, completion and fulfillment. Something about the Holy Trinity being a three in one situation. Being the third Sunday, all I asked God to do was be a sport and show me the girl who would fulfill my life long search. And he did! Can I get an Amen?

Stella was an Usher. I think she still is.

In a vintage beige flowery dress, complete with black leggings and a pink scarf draped around a slender neck, with hair so dark, so rich and modestly brushed down without the slightest effort to style it up, this Girl was a sight to behold. The only out of place thing about this girl’s style was the ugly usher’s sash that hung over her shoulder.

Now folks, I have never picked up a girl at a church before. Tim said all I had to do was offer a warm smile. But my smile is the kind that says ‘Your mirror does not do justice to the true magnificence that is the beauty that I now gaze upon’. Stella did not seem to acknowledge this tacit complement, as she ambled on to the next pew without offering even the slightest hint that I had made any effect whatsoever.

It was so on.

2011 Chronicles – Musings of a lost Soul

lawrence — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 06:00:21 +0000

My Mother told me to marry a girl who is neither too beautiful that she bewitches, and not too ugly that she twitches. Wise words.

I am 27, single (yes, again) and of middle class financial standing. Life is not going according to plan. Back in my campus days, when I had my whole future staring at me (to quote a certain lecturer), I made a vow that I would make my first million at 25. In fact, it was a pact between my roommate and I. He isn’t a millionaire either, but Tim (remember him?) is newly married. He is one gigantic step ahead of me. Turns out boyish charm, a six pack and a ruthlessly handsome face are not enough to land you a Kawify.

Mr. Editor has asked me to try and summarize my 2011 in as few words as possible, in exchange for several rounds at Kamau’s, my favorite local. I owe it to my gut to earn those rounds, especially in as harsh a month as Januworry. This month is cursed.

Spirituality
I made a futile attempt at reconnecting with my Spiritual side. I called up my Spiritual Advisor from back back in the day (funny I still had his number) and we had a lengthy chat. He shared the same sentiments he had back back in the day about sacraments, frequent mass, chastity and of course marrying a Catholic girl.

I had a stint at Church of the Living God in search of a Christian girlfriend, and as it turns out, they are just as screwed up as the ones I meet in clubs at Westlands (I have a whole story to share on this one).

I also made forays into the world of Islam, and honestly I admired their Spirituality. My contact from the Muslim side took me through the intricacies of Mohammed, Mecca and the whole five prayers a day fiasco. If you think Catholics are too complicated, try Islam.

Two months of searching and, nothing. My life was still better off away from the temples, mosques and churches. So I chose to remain churchless.

Relationships
2011 was an exploration year as much as it was a hell of a year in the bedroom. If my bedroom walls could talk they would be speechless. Having lost a very special girl in 2010, I went through a near fatal rebound phase while the rest of humanity celebrated New years. On Tim’s advice, I decided to focus my energies on my work and stay away from girls. This became tricky when the hottest Editor on planet earth joined the company as a consultant. The girl had it all; brains, beauty and a body that defied logic.

The girl turned out to be engaged, which in my world means at least three months of working my way in before launching the fishing nets. It took four months and it cost me a fortune. Despite moves that would have brought Condoleezza Rice to her knees, all I got from Mary was a peck on the cheek one Starry night and a ‘Lawrence, you are a sweet guy, but I’m Sorry. This cannot happen’. There and then I knew that fairy tale was over.

During my run-ins with Mary I also met Kanji, a sweet girl. Kanji was exactly the kind of girl my Mom was talking about. But I was too preoccupied with Mary to give her much attention. She met a guy, dated him for six months and they are now engaged, due to be married later in the year.

Crystal finally called on 20^th October 2011 at 10.46 pm (if you knew this girl you would remember the date and time too). She had been around the world and back numerous times. This was expected, considering she works as an Air Hostess. We had an amazing November while she was on leave, easily the best month of 2011 for me. She finally cleared the air on the Smelly Affair, and made me promise that I wouldn’t tell a soul that story (this excludes Tim).

The year ended on a high note in this department.

Career
I have worked for the same Agency for three years now. I’m not quite sure what the future holds since I haven’t given it any thought.

Despite almost ruining the impending wedding of my Editor, we still did two more publications together and they were a resounding success. My job title now has the word senior before it, which means a private office and an almost extra zero on my paycheck (damn taxes). I was happy to share the good news with Kamau, the proud owner of my local and my ever amiable creditor. I could almost swear the slight rise in EABL stock share price that week is attributed to Kamau and I.

Towards the end of the year, I was approached by one of my clients on the prospect of joining his company as Marketing Manager. Crystal thinks I should go for it, while Tim says I should give it a year for my ‘Senior’ title to marinate.

Social Life
Other than being one of Tim’s Grooms men at his wedding (can you imagine the idiot didn’t give me the best man position?), I wouldn’t say I have had much else of a Social Life. Though if you count the escapades with people’s daughters in and around this beautiful country, then I have had a pretty good Social Life.

Tim attempted to get me into a ‘Chama’. That was two hours of my life I’m never getting back.

Financial Well-being
I am not broke. Far from it, well, except for this silly month that is January. Despite being the source of half of Kamau’s monthly revenue, I manage to retain just enough money to put into a few investments here and there. My land lady (Tim believes she is trying to Cougar me) has let me in on a few of her real estate ventures and last December I got my first real return from my investments, a mighty handsome Cheque. Crystal is the proud owner of a very exquisite Necklace thanks to that Cheque. That necklace could have paid school fees for a couple of orphans, but they will have to wait until my next Cheque comes.

Family
This is easily the thinnest page in my book. My wonderful relationship with my Mom went out the window the day I resolved never to step back into any holy ground. My Dad and I are way too similar to get along. I have two elder sisters with whom I maintain a cordial but distant relationship.

And that’s it for Family.

2012
I know Crystal and I have no future together, so this fantasy that we are living will most likely end this year. Tim’s wife is expectant. This time he has agreed to give me the God father title. Mary is getting married in February, and I am the designated person in charge of drinks at the reception. A Sacred task. Something tells me Kanji and that guy will not get married. They rushed into this. If she gives me a second chance believe me I will go for it. Tim agrees with me on this point.

Have a superb 2012! Kamau awaits me.

Photo credit: dcubillas, glanzerr & v_hujer

Condoms on Facebook?

admin — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 06:00:26 +0000

Population Services International (PSI) has launched an interesting campaign to help spread the word on safe sexual practices and demonstrates the difference between having unprotected and safe sex. [Roll up or down the condom below]

How do you start a conversation on a topic that is practically taboo in a fairly conservative society? Bear in mind that the conversation has to attract as many people as possible and encourage them to discuss and share their experiences.
Population Services International (PSI) has been running a frontline crusade designed to change the sexual practices of the youth by enlightening and encouraging them to engage in safe sex by using contraceptives. Besides introducing affordable contraceptives into the market, PSI is involved in many educational projects including “The C-Word”: an initiative targeted at educating the youth on the various contraceptive options available to them, their merits and shortcomings.
In all its campaigns, PSI seeks to come up with initiatives that rhyme with the youth. As the world goes digital – with the youth riding with the tide – PSI has launched a digital campaign that will drive the youth to pay more attention to the C-Word initiative and help spread the word on safe sexual practices. The aim is to have more young people on Social Media embrace, discuss and share the message of use of contraceptives.
Hit the Iframe and join in the conversation now at: http://www.facebook.com/CwordPSI

But…what if he likes me?!?

crystal — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 05:25:16 +0000

I bumped into this tweet by @MikeMunyi a few hours ago, and at first I felt slightly offended. It seemed like a huge generalization, while at the same time, it seemed to point directly at me. But then I took a moment to think about it, and there’s actually a lot of truth in that statement.

I’m not sure why it rings so true. Speaking for myself, it’s pretty straightforward. I turn 30 in a few days, so my bio-clock should be roaring as I’m nearer to my sell-by-date. Luckily for me, I had my daughter almost ten years ago, which cured that particular bug. Another issue for women today is marriage, but I lived with my baby’s dad long enough to know that’s not for me.

Over the years, I’ve become rather ~~skeptical~~ ~~cynical~~ comfortable in my lifestyle, and I’m not too keen to alter it for anyone. I realize that relationships can be a beautiful thing, but they require a lot of sacrifice, compromise, and … well … work. I don’t really have the energy for that. I’m a born romantic, so I have no problem with love – for other people. I do, however, have a lot of problems with love when it comes to me.

There’s another category of women, the type that think men are only after one thing. Possibly because they’ve only been with men who were after that one thing. So anytime someone shows the slightest bit of interest, it’s hackles out! Now, assuming the man in question is keen enough, smart enough, and patient enough to prove he’s out for more, that creates an entirely different scenario.

I suppose it goes back to the reasons why women want to get married: kids, legitimacy, companionship, social standing, nagging relatives, and yes, love. A friend of mine was once advised by her banker that she should get married to qualify for a mortgage, so finance comes into it as well. In the world today, pooling financial resources seems like a pretty good idea, even if you’re not the type that expects your taller half to pay for all the bills.

I consider myself a modern woman. I live in a flat with my daughter, and manage our bills with both difficulty and efficiency. I come and go as I please, except for calling up my little one when I have to stay late at work. I have financial plans, both short-term and long-term, and I have a fairly rigid map of where I plan to be in ten years time.

Given all that, there isn’t really room in my life for a man.

Now don’t get me wrong – I’m not any kind of feminist. I admit that I sometimes need a man to get a rat out of my house. But my brothers live five minutes away, and they do that for me gladly. I also have a lot more … shall we say … base desires. But it’s sometimes easier to get those needs met outside a marriage than inside it.

And here lies the problem. I have my baby, so I don’t need a sperm donor. I pay my bills, so I don’t need a financial partner. I need male company and advice sometimes, but I have friends, cousins, and brothers who provide that gladly. I have no immense desire for a mum-in-law, and I can get my horizontal needs without a ring. So, for me, marriage is not a necessity.

But if I don’t want him to marry me, what exactly do I need him for?

See, if I meet a man who’s after my … um … assets, then all I have to do is analyze my options. I can look at him, size him up, and decide whether or not he can ‘gerrit’. Simple. But if a man comes looking for more than a one-night stand, then what? I don’t want to marry him, because I don’t want to marry anyone. I don’t want to date him, because dating is a lot of work, and is rather pointless if there’s nowhere it’s going.

I suppose dating is about spending time [and money] together, getting to know each other, doing things you both enjoy, finding out whether you’re compatible. The key difference between dating and hanging out with male friends is that dates get horizontal at some point, and ideally, progress into long-term arrangements. But if I can get horizontal without the small talk, the wining and the dining, then why date? And if you’ve been labelled as ‘ungerritable’ then why not just spend time with you as a friend?

This for me, is the problem. The boy appears, we go out a few times, we have fun, maybe we even get horizontal, but he wants more. He is ‘genuinely interested’ in me. What do I do with him now?

There are still women who are looking for the happily ever after, who long for a man like this, a man who genuinely wants to be with them for more than just one night. But there’s also a large group of smart ‘independent’ progressive women who just want to have fun and live. Maybe when this group turns 35, they’ll be ready to settle down with guys that are genuinely interested in them. I don’t know what the odds are, and I won’t get into statistics. In the west, it’s perfectly natural for a woman of 40 or even 45 to settle down and start a family, but here, you still get strange looks if you’re on the wrong side of 30 and you’re not yet a Mrs.

My brother always says the world has a way of righting itself, so maybe by the time these independent women turn 35, it will be more acceptable to slow down and join the league of ball and chains. But until then, we will have some attending seminars like these, others complaining there are no good men left, and others being overwhelmed by good men that they don’t know what to do with.

Head over heels

Mwesh — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 07:43:24 +0000

Whom are we kidding.There is a man out there for each one of us. The obvious and cliche “men are dogs” is just that ,a cliche. We make our men the way we want them to be. If you are an annoying little thing then your man will not want to be around you at all. Now back to the essence and topic of the story.

I have always been one to believe in love and I know that until I am no more something inside me will always love no matter what. I am the kind of person who even though you do the most annoying thing that apparently am supposed to be mad about, I will and then forget that I was mad. This is the contrary to love. If I want something I will go for it. Recently it has proved futile and I am beginning to think that probably it is because the game has changed a lot.

I am saying this because, how do you like someone who waits so long to actually tell you that they feel the same about you. And in this case its black and white, written all over them,you do not need divine intervention on this one. Pride is one thing that we all have and it blocks so many things on our paths. Anyway as a justification I am not saying that just because I am a woman that I will sit and rack my brain waiting for you to come up to me a month or so later with your feelings all laid down like an architectural plan.

You know, am coming to think that am better off saying and laying down my feelings for the other person to see and comprehend. Its like a whole load has been lifted off me. Later I can concentrate on other meaningful things in my life. I am allowed to air out my views on what I feel if it is for my best interest. All in all am still on this horse flying high no matter what he thinks. Funny thing is I never make excuses for silence,all I know is somehow he will think about it and when reality hits him, he will probably be too late to figure out if it would have made sense at all.

That’s just how life is!!

Love at first sight

Mwesh — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 06:00:19 +0000

For a while now I have been began to wonder if any one could ever remember their first crush. Whether it was your neighbor who was like 2 years old and you were 3. At that moment it does not seem like a crush but you seem to want to spend more time with them.What do you call that?

Rewind the clock and ask yourself, what if your first crush was the person you were meant to spend the rest of your life with. That one moment of contact is the defining moment of eternity, would you really want to actually spend the rest of your life with them? It is a grand feeling those 5 seconds of staring and analyzing, though it does not count for eternity. I have a problem with love at first sight, I don’t believe it exists. How do you meet a person, less than half an hour later you are in love? Not in this world. No way!! Unless you are superhuman and you have already taken a journey through this other persons world and know everything about them.

Get over yourself with this “love at first sight”. Yes I am old fashioned and I believe in getting to know a person. It does not happen in a day and it takes time. After that in reciprocate I want to know what the other person is feeling because I would not want to waste my time getting to know a person who does not even come remotely close to what I feel. I mean there has to be a balance his/her believes and mine. It will be a waste of time and I believe its better to move on than waste your energy on something that is not gonna happen. There are people who force themselves to situations and circumstances that are clear as day that they will not have any headway.

Fine, you think you something special with this person then you realize that it will not happen. Dust yourself up, pick up your pride and run because you will look desperate as if all men or women in the world just got sold out. Realize that you have far more potential than you give yourself credit for. People are dispensable and if it was not meant to be then it REALLY was not meant to be. At what point does the brain come to register that? I don’t know but sometimes its good to get over some situations faster because they are not worth the effort.

I don’t know whether this quote is true’ There is someone out there for everyone” but if it is then wait your turn. If you finally do meet someone who is on the same page as yourself then case closed. One happy person, 100 Billion to go.

Why I’m not Chips Funga material

cazz — Mon, 29 Aug 2011 06:00:51 +0000

If your about my age you’ll remember the 1986 movie ‘About last night” (yeah 1986) starring 80’s brat packers Demi Moore and Rob Lowe. A romance that started with a one night stand. Sigh.

Well since then the whole one night stand story has been done over and over again and from every angle. Literally. From booty call to friends with benefits there is no real conclusion to draw yet on the sexual exploits of the consenting adult.

I’ve never really been into the one night stand but when I was younger it wasn’t as daunting to deal with but now, after 6 years of being single again, I can comfortably say hell to the no. I am definitely not chips funga material and here are my top 5 reasons why…starting from no 5.

5. What if I hate his house?
I am picky picky and the only surprises I want anymore are gifts. I imagine myself wondering if the sheets are clean, what if there’s no toilet paper in the loo, can I trust this towel… just too many conflicting emotions that would dampen any passion I could muster.

4. I am a creature of comfort.
There I said it. Getting all hot and heavy strikes me as passionate but uncomfortable. I need my fluffed up pillows, my breakfast in bed, my slow awakening. I do not have the energy to wake up pre-sparrow’s fart to get my face and make up in order ala soap opera vixen just to look all fresh and doe eyed. I want to sleep and wake up as I wish… looking as I do. No pressure please.

3. Breakfast
Breakfast is a key meal for me and I love it un-rushed and on time. The act of throwing me out of your house pre-dawn makes me cringe. I mean don’t I deserve at least a decent breakfast before the walk of shame?

2. The logistics put me off.
Think about it. I have 3 kids and a house lady. We live in an apartment block and I can just about hear the neighbors when they fart. The notion that a night of passion would go unnoticed is a miracle to say the least. Like a cat I just don’t want the world to know my business.

1. I am the eternal cynical romantic.
I don’t want one night. I want the package deal. Unlike the fairytale movie “About last night”, it’s highly unlikely a chips funga moment would end in an amazing lasting relationship.

In my world sexual liberation and exploration is not marked by being compared to a packet of chips in soggy paper. So yes … I am not chips funga material.

Latex irritant or just not feeling like

Mwesh — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 06:00:11 +0000

I have this question that has been floating in my mind for a while now. At what point in a man’s life does he decide that he cannot use condoms any more with his girlfriend? (Note I said girlfriend not wife). I have heard this with most of my friends and am left to wonder how a man decides to tell his girlfriend that he does not feel like wearing a condom. There is no particular reason for him saying this he just does not want. I am an advocate for use protection when playing bedroom games but this has baffled me and am speechless and have no conclusive analysis on it.

Take Alice, she has been in a relationship for one year and her man does not want to use protection yet in his house he has a whole pack of them. Am not sure whether Alice does not want him to use them but from what I gather the man does not want to, yet she goes along with this and she is constantly on contraceptive pills which ended up ruining her body. When I say ruin, I mean ruin her body to a point she was not sure what to do. On the other extreme end her man is sleeping with other women and using protection. Is Alice justified to actually stop sleeping with her man or is she in imminent danger if she does not get out of the relationship?

Alice is not alone, Brenda is another victim, she feels her man tells her that he does not feel like using condoms, again with no reason, she has now started using oral contraceptive almost three times in a week and am really worried for her. As I listen to Brenda, am not sure what advice I can give her but from the look of things she is heading for a rather steep slope in her relationship.

I am still wondering how this actually happens and how these women and others amongst us who actually go through this with no word for themselves. Personally unless am planning for a baby I am a very strong activist on using protection. It is not fair to put a woman through such trauma. I don’t know but that’s my take. What’s yours on this?

Of Men and Ambitious Spouses

admin — Tue, 19 Jul 2011 09:10:29 +0000

Well, it is known that ambition can creep as well as soar.”
Edmund Burke

‘When I grow up I want to conquer the world, I’ve got to have my own job, my own car, and my own crib. I’ve got to be my own woman, totally independent.’ A group of young girls at a teenage workshop made these strong statements. It exhilarated me to see the determination that these young women had. Despite my support for their enthusiasm at living fruitful lives, it got my mind wondering of the older generation. Women who have stood up and taken a chance at conquering the world.

Nowadays, the issue of gender no longer takes precedence in our social debates. When it does, it is not an eye catcher as it used to be back then. When I was growing up, women took up to the streets demanding for their rights and equal treatment as their male counter parts. With time, things have changed and today’s world is easily settling down to the idea of a modern woman. She can do just as much as any man can do. She has become a breadwinner, a leader in all contexts. Be it in politics, religion, academics, and the world of business. She walks shoulder high and exhumes great confidence, takes on the world without any inhibitions; she is surely living up her newly found status.

We might want to be fully independent as women, but we want love and companionship too. We want a beautiful world where we find compatible partners who support and grow together with us. Some of us are lucky to find such men but the majority of us have quite a different story to tell. A part of the male population is still intimidated by the idea of a strong and ambitious woman. The sight of any signs of ambition spells insecurities leading to them, scramming to dark corners.

“Hush babie hush”, such has been the response given by most insecure men in a bid to quell their spouses sprouting horns off ambition.

Catherine, a middle-aged woman has been married to her husband for almost five years now. Though she is a working woman, she still feels like she needs to do more with her life. She wants to achieve and accomplish her full potential. So, having thought it through and convinced that putting up her own business was the way to go, she set out to share her thoughts with John. Excited and greatly anticipating the birth of a new venture, she did so and to her disbelief, she was not quite prepared for the response that hit her.

“You know, there is no way you can come up with enough capital, and babie, you know you cannot do this. Don’t you have your job?” Said her hubby. She was completely dumbfounded. Wasn’t this the man meant to urge her on, and help her overcome any obstacles? What was she supposed to say to him now? Her closest source of support was only concerned with whether she really had enough capital for start up. He kept on and on but Catherine was lost to everything he said. Her husband wanted her satisfied with her job and taking care of their kids. On the verge of tears, she tells me of how she had nodded and sworn not to bring up the subject again. And just like that, like a rose withers and dies, Catherine’s dream was crushed and smothered into tiny inconceivable little pieces. I guarantee you that this experience is not any exceptional. Dreams of most ambitious women suffer the same inconceivable fate.

Emotional beings as we are, we hold on to what is familiar to us and choose to stick to the fate that has been handed to us by our spouses. Because, when it comes down to it we don’t want to lose our husbands, let alone our kids.

Why do we really have to succumb to this fate? Ambitious women love life, they are bubbly and happy, challenged by situations and determined to conquer any inhibitions. Like any other woman, all they want from their spouses is love and support. They want their men to be a part of their life’s adventures. They want them to feel loved and accepted for who they are and not threatened by them. Is it really necessary to clip our sprouting wings for us as women, to achieve happiness? Is it really the only way to go?

Most women like Catherine when faced with such criticism from their spouses let their ideas die while others inspired and fueled to succeed continue on and hold a burning candle for their dreams.

Kay, now a manager of her own business says that it is not easy to face an insecure husband, especially one threatened by your ambitions.”It was tough knowing that my husband was not being supportive but I chose to go ahead and make my dream come true. “He felt that with my success I would be no longer reachable, that I would not have time for him and most especially that I would get to interact with a lot of men in my line of work.” She says. Despite her efforts to assure him of her sincerity, he seemed relentless. Kay made a decision not to mention it to him again and kept building her ideas secretly. And ten years now, she is happy and successful but unfortunately, her marriage isn’t.

They say that behind every successful man is a great woman, but pray tell me why it can never be the other way round. That behind every successful woman is a great man.

I know something though, that you might not have figured out yet. That, no man lacking in ambition wants an ambitious woman around. All a man wants is someone they can pat on the shoulder and nudge forward, someone ready to stretch out their hands and look up to them like gods and beg for their help. You can imagine what happens when such a man is faced by a woman who wants her own. They either hit back physically or sip at your emotions and then act the victim. They play around with your own insecurities and manipulate your every move.

It’s sad though, that most women are not ready to stand up for their dreams. We took the step to fight for recognition as equals to our male counterparts. So then, what are we doing letting men trample on us. For what are we in our relationships when all we feel is suffocated and enclosed in a tight vacuum? We must realize that no happiness comes before our own. And that to venture successfully in anything we must satisfy our own hearts first.

Take a look around, at that female personality that you look up to. Think of the many women that have made it and from their lives take a leaf. What we learn every day, is that we are a creation of utter magnificence and to look down on ourselves, let alone letting others prey on us is not just an injustice to ourselves but also a lack of respect for our creator.

Author: Jecinta Githaiga
Bio: I live in Nairobi and love writing. I write about women’s lives and issues in the modern world. My hopes are to inspire and enlighten Kenyan women into being exceptional beings.

Of Wedding Proposals

cyiengi — Mon, 13 Jun 2011 06:00:00 +0000

I recently watched a Wedding proposal on YouTube that took my breath away, simply for the sheer creativity… this guy decides to actually hire a movie theatre hall to air the ‘movie’ (home-made of course) that he’s shot, proposing to his girlfriend. The thing is, she is actually been taken to that precise movie theatre to watch…a regular movie. Clueless….

So we move into close up of her face lighting up in expectation as the movie begins..It breaks off to a scene of two men chatting but all you see are their mid sections with a back and forth exchange.In between these conversation bites we pan back and forth to the girl (seated with the movie “audience”, alongside her brother, who’s in on this whole plot) to see when it will register that all this… is her fiance’s Proposal to her!!!

The scene opens with her boyfriend talking to her dad about what makes his girlfriend such a prize and it’s so sweet how he chalks up all her good qualities Theres a back and forth exchange of pleasant conversation between these two men discussing the virtues of this young maiden.Gradually, she it dawns on her that it’s actually her boyfriend asking her dad for her hand in marriage!!! And she gets all weepy as her dad hugs her fiance,welcoming him into the family; then asking him what he’s waiting for…to go get his bride!!!

The camera stays with him as he runs out of her family’s home, into his car, speeding off to the movie theatre, and even stands in line (obediently) to buy some popcorn! Hilarious…You only realise the magnitude of this moment when he suddenly stops outside the movie hall to take in a couple of breaths…then boldly matches in to go on bended knee. The whoops of delight from her fellow “theatre-goers” must have been a great help in boosting his ego.

I found this particular Proposal gutsy, somewhat, especially when you think about the cold sweats and panic-mode am told some men (if not most), go through when it comes to this Question. Will she accept? Will her response be embarassing? What do I do next if she says ‘No’ after all this? Actually, come to think of it…do guys even think of all that repercussion? I doubt it… Which is just as well, because mine was a simple bended knee over a romantic dinner and wine. How could I say ‘NO’?!

Let’s just get along

cazz — Fri, 13 May 2011 06:00:44 +0000

Politics, the environment, life …the hot topic still remains relationships. He said, she said. The FM stations have taken full advantage of these differences. And why not …staged or real we’re listening, commenting and in many cases relating to the stories.

But the more I listen the more disturbed I become. Do the sexes really hate each other this much? Is this the new order… revenge sex, rabid comments, total dishonesty, no comprise, just surrender. I know men and women may not understand each other, and the power shifts and struggles are on the increase, but can’t we just agree to get along?

Human males, like males throughout the animal kingdom, have some similarities and bravado is one of them. Comments like “I’ll beat her”, “I’ll see any woman I want”, “She doesn’t satisfy me” to justify the disrespect of cheating on us will not wash. Men … bottom line: you may enjoy the risk but you have no right to put us at risk too.

Ladies … people have affairs. That’s life. However the one off fling is not the same as the habitual cheater. Some relationships can be saved and more power to you if you go down this route. And for the rest … garbage is garbage. Throw it out! After one year of HIV testing because of my ex hubbie’s affairs, I discovered a lot of women from all walks of life in the same situation. This was not my ideal female bonding session. Part of protecting yourself is just getting out of the situation altogether.

Men …we marched down the aisle with stars in our eyes. We didn’t get married thinking we wouldn’t see you. So here’s the thing. We love you. We have babies with you. You’re hanging out with your boys all the time is a contradiction to the commitment you made. We don’t object to you hanging out with the boys once in a while but if you love them that much why not hook up with them instead!

Men are from Earth. Women are from Earth. Get over it. We’re not supposed to be the same and understanding each other is, in my opinion, overrated. I just want the basics from people in general: honesty, kindness, fun spirited and loyalty.

Let’s fight to get along. I’m sure the journey would be so much sweeter if we did.

Photo credit: mattwork

Why men marry who they marry

crystal — Tue, 03 May 2011 06:00:07 +0000

I confirmed something this week. I want the benefits of marriage, but I want them without – you know – getting married. I want to have a consistent bedmate that respects me enough to stay faithful. I want a partner I can talk to and share ideas with, share myself with. I want someone with a special link, an exclusive connection. But I don’t want the in-laws or the drama or the suspicion or the [extra] children. I don’t want to change who I am in the name of ‘compromise.’ And I don’t actually know how feasible that is.

I was talking to a good friend this week. He’s married, and I assume he’s happy. But he says marriages aren’t meant to be happy. They’re intended to be functional. A good marriage is one that works, where the partners are solid and complement each other. Each partner does what they have to do to keep the union solid. Lovey-dovey couples are a myth that only exists in female heads, he says. It made me ask a question on Twitter. I wondered how a guy picks a bride, since it’s clearly not about love.

I didn’t get many answers, so I tried to analyse and theorize. I think the girl a man marries depends on his reasons. If he’s marrying to meet the demand for grandchildren, he’ll marry a girl who’s wifely, motherly, and gets along with his mother. That’s her primary function, so she may not necessarily be the type of girl he likes. That’s why he may continue to fool around with – you know – the type of girl he likes. It’s also why a guy could date a girl for years then break up with her and marry someone else.

A guy like that will likely have a mistress who is just the type he likes, the one he actually loves, the one he is genuinely attracted to. And that girl will probably never become a wife, because clearly, under this theory, the girl a man loves is not the one he marries.

The theory makes sense to some extent. Ancient civilisations didn’t have marriages ‘for love’ and even in the King Arthur days, the knights were always in love with married women who were not – you know – their wives. They would be the ‘champion’ of some married woman while the woman’s husband was the champion of some other girl. The relationships weren’t necessarily sexual, but there was love involved. Hence Lancelot and Guinevere.

The kind of woman who is a wife is raised to know her place. She doesn’t question her man’s cheating or shenanigans, because, well, a wife doesn’t do that. Just listen to the women on Matatu FM. Women – like me – who would question and fight and make demands are generally kept as mistresses or girlfriends, mpango wa kando. We may be hot, confident and great in bed, but we have way too much drama to be wives.

This explains why some klandes have the guts to attack wives. The wife is the well-behaved, quiet, humble type who lets her man do what he wants. She’ll take a lot of crap to maintain her married status. Sometimes she’s just as pretty and confident as the mistress, but she knows enough not to cause chaos, and she knows he’ll always come back home. That’s why she’s the wife. The mistress is the drama queen. She assumes that because the man prefers her, she has the authority and clout to push his wife around. Of course, it’s that exact quality that keeps her safely in the mistress bracket.

When a woman like that finally chooses to be a wife, she adjusts herself accordingly. Either that or she fakes it long enough to get a ring, or manipulates the boy into marriage. Months later, she’s nagging and he’s cheating because the gloves are off. Sigh.

Some men marry for money, though this is rare. This guy is likely to cheat too, because in many ways, his wife is ‘above’ him, so he needs some outside women he can subjugate.

Genuine church types marry for love. By genuine I mean the traditional types who really feel that marriage is a holy sacrament. I don’t know how well those marriages work for two reasons. One, divorce is unacceptable, so a lot gets swept under the carpet to keep the marriage intact. Two, maintaining appearances is important, so many marital problems stay hidden.

Some guys marry for social standing, to be taken seriously at work or in the community. A guy like that will probably marry a trophy wife, one that is appropriate for the situation, one that can be shown off at office/family functions without embarrassing him, one that can fit in with social groups ~~WAG~~ and company wives. Then he will continue to play with the type of women who interest him.

I think the mistake that women make is that we pick a guy and make him marry us, then we wonder why we end up miserable. If you tricked or pressured the guy into marrying you, things are bound to go crazy once you stop pretending, especially if he wasn’t ready to marry in the first place.

I read a letter in yesterday’s Nation. This guy said he’d been faithful to his wife for 4 years, but he was drawn to other women. He wanted to know if it was normal. The columnist told him it was. Thing is – we get attracted to people every day, but we have to choose not to act on it. When you force a man to marry you, he has less motivation to fight his lust.

When a man decides it’s time to marry, he will. But he will only take a girl that meets his needs. The old quote is true – a man won’t marry a girl, he’ll marry a wife. So if you want to catch a husband, you need to become a wife.

Of course some girls are simply not wife material, and I’m one of them. If I want a ring on it, I know what I need to develop. And I can do it too – any girl can. The thing is … I don’t want to.

Us girls have to realize we can’t have it both ways. We either stay as we are – strong, independent, no nonsense … and single, or we acquire wifely virtues and a ring, and accept that our men will probably spend their time playing with strong, independent, single women. Of course we could go for western men who can accept this kind of woman, but there’s a reason why divorce is so common there. There’s also a reason why some western men look for ‘submissive’ Asian and African women to marry.

In African society, a wife’s job is to care for the children, and a husband’s job is to provide for them. Many men don’t understand why you’re complaining if the children are schooled, clothed, and fed. Your best bet as an aspiring wife is to find out what he wants in wife, be that girl, then wait until he’s ready. If it’s the man’s decision to marry, he’ll be a lot more likely to put in the effort needed to make it work. Of course it would help if you naturally have those traits, because if you pretend, then you’ll lose him the moment you go back to ‘normal’.

There’s one other thing that girls don’t consider. We have a generation of women that were raised to do anything they want. They’re educated and self reliant. They can have jobs, cars, and houses without men. But what we forget is that there are men who grew up around us too. The opportunities that made us what we are have changed the men as well. The women grew up to do stuff on their own, but so did the men. So while us girls don’t need a man to buy us pretty things, our brothers don’t need a woman to cook and clean. They don’t have their father’s urge to settle down, procreate, and care for extended families. They want to enjoy their youth and have fun with their money.

This man may not feel the urge to settle down until he’s in his 40s. Meanwhile, the strong woman starts to tick in her late twenties, when her ovaries are whining. So you have 28 year old woman thinking of settling down while her partner still wants to play, and by the time he’s 40, she’s over the hill and intimidating, so he prefers a nice 18 year old that’s young, unambitious, and unspoiled, preferably someone groomed for the job by his mother.

Of course there are exceptions to every rule, and I’m not trying to kill anyone’s marital hopes. There are men who marry for affection and companionship. But these men usually have grown children and a few ex-wives, and if not, they may not want kids at all. You’re unlikely to get a man like that while your bio-clock is ticking. My theory only tries to explain why we have so many singles and unhappy couples, and my solution is to stay out of the fray. What’s yours?

Loving you is easy ‘cause you’re beautiful

bakhita — Tue, 26 Apr 2011 06:20:02 +0000

Is that true? Do we only love the beautiful? Lord that is such a harsh thing to think about but really I think in some ways I do.

*cringe*

It feels horrible admitting that attractiveness has a considerable ranking on my totem pole of assessment-of-people-I’d-like-to-date. But does it make it better that in general I don’t care about how people look if we’re going to be pals or if you are just going about your way?

Hmmmm

Let me start over and perhaps explain things a little better. I have fallen in love with all types of men and had crushes on an even bizarre slew of men…and women [hehe not like thaaaat, more like wow-you-are-so-amazing-I-think-I-love-you-and-also-I-get-why-men-love-you--talk-about-vavavoom] Its totally out of my control who and why I have crush on. I love the intensity in Cajetan Boy’s eyes, Nimrod Taabu’s smile, Sean Connery’s macho/gentlemanly self…the list is endless! The people I have a crush on are very, very sexually attractive, no doubt about it. They are Alpha Males, cream-of-the-crop types who I have no ghost of a chance with!

These guys are Ken dolls but I’m no Barbie I just love how they look, period. I’d never want to date them because it would never work out, distance and such…ahem…Now, the people I have previously dated never followed in that vein. They were ‘ordinary’ men who I clicked with on a real level. To date I care very little about how rich a guy is, but it does help if he is well endowed *wink wink* and we must have the ability to comfortably have a conversation over the phone. [P.S I think that is the real test, especially in the early days when you’re not so sure about a guy]

So of late I’ve become very aware of the fact that I’m gravitating towards the ‘pretty’ boys. My old value system stands but more often than not I will pay keener interest to the cutest guy in the group. Damn, just putting that statement down makes me feel all kinds of shame…When did I get to be like this? And more importantly is it wrong?

It’s no secret that the world adores the beautiful, makes clear their path to wherever they please just to see them smile and remain happy. Have I too become superficial like that? Perhaps all the years of bombardment by these images and beliefs has finally affected my subconscious. Nah, who am I kidding, I’m just as bad as the rest of ‘them’.

See, I want to catch the best bee I can with my ‘honey’, is that so wrong?

I want the sparkliest star, the starring, I want the IT guy (capital letters for emphasis not short for Information Technology guys) *feels self becoming superficial-er*

See, I want to catch the best bee I can with my ‘honey’, is that so wrong?

And I know, for a fact, that I do not fall in love with just how a man looks but with how he lives, his values and his mind. And if he looks good, then that’s a bonus because at the end of the day I want to want to jump his bones you know? So yes, I will seek out the hot man but if he is hollow then he’s go to go!

Signed,

The girl who is a student of life

A Beautiful Mess

bakhita — Wed, 20 Apr 2011 06:00:16 +0000

The hardest thing for an incurable romantic to do is to manage expectations. Man, the number of times my achy-breaky heart has been smashed to smithereens by the eventual outcome of certain situations are too many to count. See, a romantic [such as me] creates fanciful castles in the sky built from the ground up by twisted statements and perceived meanings. Basically, sisi hujidang’anya [we lie to ourselves] convince ourselves that what we think, and how we interpret things is the truth. Then, when things don’t happen as we had expected it totally shocks us!

HOW DARE HE NOT FALL INTO LINE? [also that is the second title of this post, hehe]

I recently met a guy. He’s very sweet, cute as a button, funny and in the country for a bit of a spell. We hit it off from the word go, laughing, talking about exciting ideas and realizing that we shared the same outlook on some really touchy topics. How awesome [and rare] is that?! What really made me happy, and to be honest more especially, is the way we met. It was a cold and lonely night, the stars were twinkling and the air was fresh and breezy…ahem… My colleague and I had been convinced at the last minute to attend some blahblah event and I knew there was no way I’d leave that place mapema if I went alone.

So I check in and my start to fu-reak out because I really hate mingling and socializing. My workmate on the other hand was like white on rice, he’d probably given out 20 cards before I had even plucked up the courage to chat up one person.

Sigh.

Luckily I caught sight of a friend I knew and proceeded to spend an hour by her side! I was so happy! But then I caught sight of my boss, yes my workmate is also my boss, and knew he’d skin me ALIVE if he knew I was just chilling out instead of ‘promoting the company and our products’. So I took a deep breath and walked over to a group of guys. One guy’s face looked familiar and I remembered that he’d been at our office recently so at least I had an opening line and reason to park my nervous self at the edge of the group.

So I do a general hallo and start chatting up the guy plus throwing a general comment to the rest, a couple of blahblah moments later I suddenly realize that all the people had drifted away except this one guy. He says something ridiculously funny and we end up exchanging numbers. A few minutes later we’re trading stories about people in the party and other topics and I’m like ‘HOLD IT, HOLD IT!’ [like Fred Flinstone]… What exactly is this?

Another thing I’ve neglected to mention is that he’s a white guy. Is this important in the general scheme of things? Perhaps. See, I really, really, really love my African brothers but I have huge crushes on white guys like McSteamy (who wouldn’t?). Thing is, I have never meet McSteamy types let alone strike up a conversation with my Caucasian brothers. We just never cross paths! So here I am talking and flirting, a little, with this gorgeous man and dayum I’m really surprised! Kumbe si wabaya?

Well fast-forward to several weeks, a ‘million’ texts [his words not mine] and lovely hanging out sessions together later and the bombshell drops…he’s in a relationship with so-and-so. [damn you Facebook] In his defense, we’d never talked about our statuses, neither was he forward nor touchy-feely BUT that did not stop a sister from letting her imagination run wild!

Sigh.

Thankfully I haven’t done anything stupid…yet…hehe but I do intend to learn more about him and his missus [for curiosity’s sake, tell me you aren’t interested as well hmmm?] And I will do my very best to reign in my silly self and stop with the assumptions! The problem with romantics, as stated earlier, is that we read soooo much into things that we forget that we cannot think for people. And also, as one poet put it ‘you cannot make homes out of people’, I cannot make him become this person that lives in my head. Him not mentioning his relationship could be a privacy issue not a ‘look at me I’m single’ vibe. And I should realize that sweet, cute as a button, funny guys [regardless of the time they are in the country for] may JUST want to be friends! *shock* *horror*

Signed,

The girl who really needs to build a house on a rock

A kick in the balls!

lawrence — Mon, 18 Apr 2011 06:00:47 +0000

“You kicked him in the balls!!? Ouch!”

“Yea I did! I don’t even know where I got the courage to but one moment he was grabbing me by the neck, next moment he was on the ground writhing in pain”

“Daaamn girl! That was something. If we had more girls like you there’d be a lot less mugging on our streets”

“Ha ha ha! Probably.”

This must have been our third or fourth date I’m not sure. Kanji is a conversationalist, and not the gibberish type, I’m talking quality conversation. The kind that leaves you feeling good about the two hours spent with her. Not to mention how fast time passes whenever I talk to her.

That’s not all. Kanji is one kick-in-the-crotch painfully focused girl. She is a part time model, is studying for her masters, has a full time job as a research analyst and takes private classes in Spanish. She plans to do her PhD in Barcelona, Spain.

Let me admit this; I’m a chauvinist. I have been kicked in the holy ground a couple of times for making demeaning remarks about the fairer gender. Other than my juniors at work, the only other people who serve the purpose of making me feel superior are my dating partners. In my dictionary, the word ‘Female’ is synonymous to ‘Blonde’.

Not Kanji. This Girl is smart. Why I’m still seeing her I don’t know.

Last week I was busy stalking my friends on Facebook when the chat box popped up, with a message from someone seeking to begin a conversation. I’m not one to start engaging in chats on Facebook, something my friends have grumbled about more than once. For some reason I find it cheap and pathetic. If you and I haven’t spoken in months, I’d hate it if the next point of contact between us is via a Facebook message or chat. In an age where 10 bob a day gets you unlimited sms, it would be preferable if your attempts at communication skewed more towards the personal kind a.k.a text messaging. But that’s just me.

Normally I would just close the chat box without a second thought and move on with the stalking, but this was different. It was Cathy.

I’m told that everyone has that one Ex whose memory is forever cast in our memory. He/She becomes the yardstick by which all future mates are measured against. When you are down, it’s the memory of him/her that lifts your spirits. When you feel lonely, he/she is the one person you would wish to be there for you at that precise moment. Well, that’s Cathy for me.

So you could understand why the conversation below ensued.

“Hi Cathy.”

“Howz u?”

“I’m good, you?”

“Ok I guess. Just life challenges you know”

“I know. That’s life.”

“Yeah, it’s just sometimes it gets really hard”

“Kwani Watsup?”

“Ah, just personal stuff, relationships etc. I’ll give you details when we meet”

“It’s been a while Cathy. I doubt we will be meeting soon.”

“I’ll come see you.”

This sounds like an ok conversation, except that Cathy and I haven’t seen eye to eye for 3 years, and she happens to be at least 700 kilometers away. When Cathy and I were still an item such crazy stunts were not uncommon. Once, we eloped for a week to Mombasa and somehow survived with 500 bob between us.

Anyway, she abruptly went offline and I haven’t heard from her since. I don’t have her number so following up isn’t an option. Frankly I don’t want to. She inspires certain feelings inside me which aren’t so healthy to my current relationships. We might seem to fit like a glove on a hand, but that’s the problem precisely. We fit too well that it always brings complications.

My MD decided to bring in a consultant to help out with our most recent project. It’s bigger than anything we’ve done before, we are all apt but rather inexperienced to handle such a daunting task, or so the Boss thinks. Now, given that I am the project manager on this particular one, you can imagine what the ‘consultant’ does to my ego.

Mary however isn’t just any consultant. She’s a respected professional in the industry; frankly I look up to her in many ways. She graces the covers of industry magazines, and has even been in the Top 40 Under 40 list on two occasions. She is my age mate. She is gorgeous. She is classy. Her dress code is decent but not conservative at all. For the next four weeks, she will be sitting right across from me.

I’m I intimidated? Of course! I’m I attracted to her? Please come slowly. There’s something about hot ambitious ladies that just freaks the devil’s crib out of me. I’m yet to figure out how to deal with these new entrants in my life.

But enough about me; how are you?

Photo credit: Sucker

Of Minimum Wage Love

Maria — Wed, 13 Apr 2011 06:00:10 +0000

Recently, I’ve been getting hit on by the watchman at work. I try to remain friendly – I could need his help one day – but it reminds me of when I was younger, and I thought that I was doomed to be hit on by sketchy types all my life. I wrote the following during that time. Thankfully, my prospects have greatly improved, but I’m always wary of this trend resurfacing. What do you think affects the type of people who hit on you? Can you change who you attract?

Ok.
There is definitely something wrong here. I’m young (only for so long darling), intelligent (I can do long division!), pretty (I have verbal confirmation of this from several sources including my mother and my best friend), and and in general quite a catch (if I do say so myself!). Then why in God’s name do I seem to attract only the most horrid of creatures?
I am on a campus full of smart, good looking men. So why are the only men who hit on me invariably dining hall workers and cleaners? I’m not trying to be a snob. If I were being hit on by an equal balance of i-bankers-in-the-making and street-sweeper types, I wouldn’t be complaining, really I wouldn’t! But this is getting a tad ridiculous. I say this because I just got hit on by not one, but two sketchballs within the space of an hour.
And to clarify, being hit on doesnt mean “Hi, pretty lady” which is a bit lame but is at least complimentary. It means “Hey sweet chocolate, can I be yo’ daddy?” “and “I need me some African goddess lovin’ ” accompanied by leers and smirks. The first guy was sweet, but the little English he knew I couldnt understand through his thick Mexican accent. I think I caught a couple of phrases, “baby you so sweet” and “you give me number yes?” enough to let me know I should get outta there pronto! Not half an hour later, I meet the second guy who actually showed me a picture of his daughter on his cell phone. As if being a single dad at 22 is supposed to be a selling point.
Come to think of it, I can trace this back several years. Even when I was at home, I remember the houseboy always giving me gifts like hibiscus flowers or a Cadbury eclair on Valentine’s day, and the Kenya Power guy who comes around to check the meter asking for my number just seconds after he cut our power, the bastard! There was the chain-smoking loser at the video rental place who wrote letters to me in high school. There was the former matatu conductor who managed to hide his previous career for most of the two weeks we “dated.” Finally, there was the 27 year old loser in my neighbourhood who never seemed to be able to answer the simple question “what do you do?”, was always around during the day, shot down any positive thing that happened to me, and thought it was ok to be kissing an 18 year old in front of her gate.
If I had known then that it was a trend that would dog me for years to come, perhaps I would have taken preventative measures. Because I’ve had my fair share of dating bums, thank you. I mean really. Its about time I met someone who’s got goals beyond making it to assistant manager at the local Subway. While I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m never going to marry Prince William (mostly because I’m black, but also because we’ve never been properly introduced) a girl is allowed to have some lofty ambitions, isn’t she? Isn’t she?! Isn’t she?!

Guy Pals

cazz — Wed, 06 Apr 2011 06:00:57 +0000

I’ve always loved being around men to be honest. Rough or polished I am at ease with many and of course through the years I’ve had all sorts stay, come in and out of my life.

These are my personal favorites that have been very dear to me these past five years as I’ve adjusted to my single mum status….

The Divas
My glittering gay pals are the funniest, most supportive and stylish men I have the pleasure of knowing. Silver tongued and witty to boot they are my protectors and I am their token straight gal pal. They’ve faced all sort of prejudice, fears… I mean to be gay in Africa is no joke! And through them I’ve learnt that there is no justice in judging. I love them….and partying with them is never a dull affair.

The Crutch
I was having dinner recently with my crutch. Like me he’s separated and looking forward to his divorce. We’ve propped each other up through the years and meet often for dinner and other socials. We talk about everything and anything. There’s no pressure, explaining, none of it. My crutch is handsome, wealthy and the perfect gentleman who always treats me like a lady. With him I feel special. And in many ways he is my man barometer – if he can treat me like this as a friend, shouldn’t the man who wants to be with me treat me even better?

The Eye Candy
My favorite accessory these man wonders are my wicked indulgence. They get many a tongue wagging with their youthful exuberance, trim bodies and style. Now if you’re a more established woman like me (aka 35+) the immediate assumption is he’s a lover and can’t just be a friend. Whatever the case there’s really nothing to say when you’re out with eye candy. A real boost for the ego I have found these darlings to be very attentive, free spirited and always prepared to play football with my sons. And contrary to popular belief hanging out with eye candy does not have to involve a cash or sexual exchange. The trick is really in the selection process.

The Reality Check
Now while I have nothing major against marriage and look forward to finding my “I want to be with you” man one day but these brothers are the litmus test to my resolve. I’ve known them from childhood and we’ve meandered in and out of each others lives through graduations, weddings, babies ….I watch how they live and thank God I am not shackled to them in any way. They have an over inflated view of themselves and spare no expense to strut their stuff and show off the latest toy as they torture their wives with their infidelities and avoid their children. Meeting them at mutual acquaintances and family gatherings is fun and I always have a really great laugh with them but what a relief to be able to walk away.

As you can see I’m covered on the man department.

The Motion Setter

Mwesh — Mon, 28 Mar 2011 06:00:25 +0000

Michelle and I met in college. It had been a girl’s night out and we accidentally bumped into each other in the little girls’ room. She looked miserable and her eyes were puffy and teary like she had been crying. Having such a humble soul, I comforted her and she explained to me that her girlfriends had just ditched her and had left with their ‘hook ups’ from the club. I knew how it felt to be in a club all alone when the clique you had supposedly come with ditch you. I asked her to come and join a group I had come with for the night and she was reluctant to join us but later agreed.

My friends Andrea, John, Alex, Samantha and Sheila were happy to see I had made a friend between the bar and the washroom, and understood why it had taken relatively long for me to come back. Samantha and Alex were and item, so were John and Sheila. Andrea and I were the only single ones in the group and the rest of our friends kept insisting that Andrea and I hook up. It sounded lame and Andrea was not my type, he was gorgeous, but not my type. We had loads of fun and had a good laugh, but that was the end.

The night wore on and I noticed that Andrea was interested in Michelle and I was happy for him. He was really a great guy and I had no bad intention if he met someone he liked, because it would definitely make me happy (and sad at the same time that I would lose him as a friend). As we left the club, they exchanged numbers, and that had been the last night as college mates. I knew I would miss the clique, but change was inevitable since we had all got letters to join our respective universities in a week’s time. It had been a blast and I was happy that I had friends who cared for each other through thick and thin and Andrea had found someone whom I prayed would be the love of his life. And there is where college life ended.

I went to campus for the first week and in a month or so, I started missing my friends since I had been used to being with them at any close moment. I had finally settled in and I wanted a life besides school and books. I had made a few friends, but I seemed not to have a lot in common with them. In time things were better and made friends who loved partying like I did.

On this night we left the campus and went clubbing in town. The streets of life are narrow and small and you never know whom you will meet. I was not in touch with Michelle or Andrea since they both were in the same campus, but way out of town and thus it was difficult for us to even meet. The music was fabulous and the atmosphere in the club was amazing and time off was all I needed. Little did I know that this night was about to change my life.

All my new friends were in relationships, others were seriously engaged and I felt lonely just like any other human being would feel. We all need love in one way or another. As I sat on the counter sipping my drink and bumping my head to the music, I heard a whisper next to me, “Your gorgeous and should not be alone, may I join you?” The voice itself was enough to make you want to scream. I did not have to turn to look at the owner of the gorgeous voice, I was stiff and my body was screaming. I do not mean I was never in a relationship before, but it had been a long time since I even had a man compliment me. I kept to myself for a long time after my last relationship ended, but it was time to let loose and enjoy life, because it was short. Back to the mystery man with a gorgeous voice. I swerved my seat and there he was, a gorgeous, man with beautiful lips and eyes to die for. My head was screaming “Where have you been all my life”. He was perfect. I was speechless and he instigated the conversation again and we had a blast the whole night talking about all the things we liked and we were 98% compatible. The 2% would take care of itself. I knew this was him, the one. I did not hesitate or ask questions, everything came automatically which was rare. We left the club that morning and had breakfast together. He was also in campus studying business.

He was an amazing person and we kept in touch, did lunch, dinner and went clubbing together. After a month and a half, we were officially dating and it was the best feeling I had felt in a long time. One afternoon we had gone to an art gallery he loved and bumped into the last person I would never have guessed to meet, Michelle and Andrea. They looked lovely, introductions were made and we had a lovely lunch and went separate ways.

A year passed on and we lost touch again. Michelle, Andrea, I and my now stable boyfriend met again and this time, the news was Michelle and Andrea were engaged; however they had left campus and were taking distant learning courses from their home. I had to beg their pardon, ‘home’, I assumed they were living together and I was right.

My relationship with the “one” went on for a long time and we cleared campus, he went on to be an intern and we met ever so often. One afternoon I got a call from Michelle and her husband asking us if we could join them for a camp, which was an offer we could not refuse, and went on to join them. We had a fun time together hiking and just watching the sun set. Alongside us was a beautiful gorgeous lady who had come camping alone, we all pitied her and asked her to join us and that is how we met Sandra. A lonely, skinny looking girl with bad hair at that time. She looked lost, humble and naive when we met her .She had just run away from home because her parents did not approve of her behavior. She was fun to be with and then in an instant we all became fast friends.

In a year’s time, Michelle and Andrea wedded and I and my gorgeous man also tied the knot. We had a bond we shared and friendship was important to us and thus we kept close to each other. Sandra had kept in touch and we never minded having her around, she was part of us.

The ultimate question is, how did Sandra start her bad habits and what was the beef behind Michelle and Andrea?

The Rebound

lawrence — Wed, 23 Mar 2011 06:00:28 +0000

Oh, don’t we all just Love the rebound? The moment in Limbo between a wonderfully great romantic odyssey and the ‘moving on’, during which you simply let go and let loose. The marvelous blend of scum berg, complete a**hole, freaky dare devil, reckless nincompoop and awesomely funny potato head is something of a master piece.

You see, the rebound comes after three stages. It’s that one last stage before you finally recover from the grand breakup that got you down this road in the first place.

STAGE 1 – WHY, WHY, OOOOOH WHHHHHYYY!!!!
For me this lasted around one week. Yep, just a week. I realized I have an unbelievable capacity to recover from huge heart breaks. Plus the escalating stench from kicked around socks, unwashed dishes, overflowing dustbins and unchanged beddings hastened the process.

The Whys, oh the whys, I have never felt so pathetic. I learnt half the break up love songs in the universe. I vented the residue anger on my glassware and ended up with bandaged hands for my work.

Tim had to endure hours on the phone listening to me rambling over and over about the same point. All that idiot could offer me was a tired ‘It’s going to be fine dude’. Why I’m still friends with this guy I don’t know. But he was there. And he made it through the most bizarre of questions without losing his mind.

“Did you realize she was such a bitch?”

“I mean, how can someone look so perfect for you, yet be so wrong?”

“What would you do if Christine pulled a fast one on you?”

“Hey, could I have Christine for one night bro? For old time’s sake.” He actually said yes to this one, but insisted I’d have to ask Christine. We’ve laughed about this so many times since.

STAGE 2 – OK, I GET IT. SHE WASN’T THE ONE!
Here is what I like most about being a man; the tough talk. I hear that stage 2 for the ladies is the ‘HE WAS SUCH A PIG!’ stage where all the ugly words are used to express why the guy wasn’t worth it, in an effort to make the betrayed soul feel better about herself. It works for them. Men, real men, don’t know how to bitch.

Here is the problem though. Your close friends won’t come up and tell you the hard-to-swallow truth.

True story. We actually care about each other in a non-gay bro style.

The tough talk will always come from an external source. A friend of a friend of a friend, brought into the picture by the forces of nature when the time is right, at the price of all the hard drinks still left in your fridge.

“Listen man, imagine your Mac book. A sweet little machine, so perfectly designed to suit your needs. It feels right. Nothing could be better. At least that’s what you think. Until one day, you rise up from the sofa, and accidentally knock it over. It falls, gets damaged, and can’t get fixed because some core hardware got damaged. You could fix it. But it will cost you more than buying a new Mac book. As perfect as it was, or seemed to be, there are falls it can’t recover from. You pick up the pieces, curse yourself for being so clumsy, throw it into the junk box, and out you go to get another machine. You deal with it like a man! That’s the only way to get past it.”

STAGE 3 – ALRIGHT, LET’S HIT THE CLUBS!
I think this stage is overrated. But it’s essential. Here is the logic. If you truly want to get back at the enemy, find them at their most humiliating point. Point your finger at them, and laugh your head off til your lungs hurt. At this stage, my enemy wasn’t just Daisy (God I hate that girl!!), but the whole generation of females. I subconsciously needed to get back at them, feel superior and somehow revive my ego again.

So I hit the strip joints across several counties in Kenya and picked up random girls. During my brief absence from The Lily Review, I threw wild parties, got hopelessly drunk, went bungee jumping and rock climbing, did speed racing in remote areas I’d never heard of before (and had great fun scaring poor old women coming from their Shambas).

My friends and foes alike had a great time thanks to my hapless condition. That stage cost me a fortune.

It took one almost fatal accident for me to realize I was probably taking it too far. If you have never been in a car that went tumbling down a hill, don’t look forward to it.

Daisy visited me at the hospital. A bitch with some nerve is what that girl is. I told the nurse I didn’t want to see her but she somehow got into my room.

STAGE 4: THE REBOUND
Some people think stage three is the rebound. It’s not. A rebound is meant to spring you back up, give you a chance to sort of do it over again and hopefully get it right this time. If you get stuck in stage three in the ruse of a rebound, you never get a second chance. Life as you knew it is over.

“Will you be ok Lawrence?” Daisy asked.

“If I don’t ever see you again I will”

“I’ll stay away. But please let me know when you are discharged. I can’t sleep knowing you are here because of me”

“Don’t flatter yourself Daisy. You’ll hear of my discharge from the grapevine. Now go.”

“Ok.”

I need a ‘girl’

bakhita — Mon, 21 Mar 2011 06:00:49 +0000

Oedipus explains the riddle of the Sphinx, by Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres

I don’t believe in the theory about how women date/marry/seek out men who resemble their fathers. In some ways I think it’s a little too incestuous/ Oedipus complex for me! It’s not as if I don’t have a fantastic father to model my future mate(s) on, it’s just not a quality I particularly seek out. Not consciously at least. Granted the subconscious is the subconscious so lots of things tend to occur without our having realized!

But now as I critically looked back at all my partners I realize that there was a little of my dad in some of them, at least those who at the very least I had serious relationships with. So what exactly are these qualities one ought to find in a partner? Loyalty, respect, sense of humour, responsibility and a loving and selflessness nature etc… right? Then sure any man could have these traits. For me I have never met a man quite like my dad, I have only met a woman, me.

As I continue my search for love and wisdom I realize that I’m not looking for a man like my father because I have his traits, I need to seek out a mate who is more like my mother. My parents were married for 18 years, about 8 of which I was around to see. By a sad turn of events she passed away. From what I hear of them and saw in the years until he eventually went to join her in paradise, they were a match made in heaven, pun intended.

I’m not naïve, neither I’m I saying in my 8 years as the child of mama na baba I was paying close enough attention to the nature of their relationship. All I’m saying is that all evidence points to them having been highly compatible and deeply in love. My father not remarrying in the 11 years since her passing is rich testament to the fact. At least to me.

So what is the point to all this? We all have relationships we adore, whether real or fictional. Those we’d love to model ours against or if we are lucky enough morph into. For me it’s my mother and father, the Huxtables, the Obamas, a lovely old couple I saw on telly who got married after about 50 years together and if have to keep it to just five then Maria and Ralf in Paulo Coelho’s Eleven Minutes.

All these couples seem to have struck a balance among love, respect, friendship, ambition and the natural failings of the human being. Basically I’m saying, in my eyes, love carried the day or perhaps a deliberate rotation or battle with these elements. It’s that thing they have that has them one day look up and realize how much time had passed then looked down again and keep fighting to stay together.

That’s what I want in a partner, someone with staying power and the ability to fight for me and with me to keep what we have alive. Granted not a physical battle of blows and kicks And as I grow older I also realize that not knowing my mother well enough is such a huge loss. Especially now that I have had my relationship ‘light bulb’ moment! From what I know she was fun but strict, was the life of the party but shy, ambitious but sacrificial [is that even right?] she was also a very reserved individual. Now how do you find the equivalent of ALL that in a man? It’s a tall order but what I now know is that I need to find my opposite and match. Hmmm. Well, at least it’s good that I finally know what I want-ish.

Sigh.

Signed,

The girl who had wants to find a Mr ‘Mrs. Huxtable’

Photo credit: wikipedia

Believing in Love

rico — Fri, 11 Mar 2011 08:15:35 +0000

I believe in love, I have to. Being a bachelor and all hoping that one day I will settle down with a drop dead gorgeous spinster I have to believe in love. What worries about it are the non-believers. The love atheists acquire it on some stage in life. This is after they have believed in love all along; they wake up one day maybe on the wrong foot and decide their love beliefs are gone. They proceed to say love is over rated and stupid. Only fools fall in love.

My bachelorhood has been one long episode of converting believers in to non-believers. This is mostly caused by my set out conditions when it comes to love. I believe in love but I do not believe in the baggage that comes with it. I do not believe in commitment, what is called the fear of the big C. I am proud to be a coward when it comes to that. I also don’t believe that love can outlive life and last forever. I know things that can outlive human life and love is not among them. Wine in a cellar can. I do not believe in reading minds simply because I am not a magician.

I have had my share of relationships. All of them failed like many African states. Each and every one of them has been borne out of pure love. It is all fun with no worries at first. Trouble comes when she starts demanding that we have to move the relationship to the next level. Picture this conversation:

Her: Darling, I have something to tell you.

Me: What is it honey?

Her: Don’t you think it time we did something about our relationship?

Me: ( confused) and what might that be? I…I mean what are we not doing right now?

She does not answer me but I have been through the situation so many times that I perfectly know what she wants. I usually play dumb pretending I do not understand a thing of what she is talking about. This goes on until the subject is changed on to creep back again in another conversation. Sooner or later she announces she wants to know where the relationship is going on which I reply it is moving forward when it actually the reverse. She needs me to promise that I will forever be with her. Red signals start flashing on my mind telling me to stop and go back. This is when I make her a non-believer.

We break up and she opens her eyes to see how much love is overrated and useless. I leave her heartbroken. She regrets why she fell in love only to come out hurt. She announces to all and sundry how she doesn’t believe in love and why it is only fools who fall in love. This always makes me pity them. How can someone get hurt by something she does not believe in?

Misconceptions ladies have defined

rico — Wed, 02 Mar 2011 06:00:06 +0000

I received a very long message on Facebook last week from this one girl. She was telling me what a waste of a man I was. First she said I was hooked to TV, watching football. She got that one wrong I also watch a whole lot of other programmes. What I don’t watch is what hooks her up on TV. The teary Mexican telle novellas, you learn nothing from them. The only benefit from them is different ways of crying and wailing. It’s not even entertainment.

She said I was afraid of her because I had failed to ask her out. It got me laughing out loud. It is not a must. Though it is a gentleman’s virtue to do it, not every girl is worth the pain. It depends on where she measures on the scale of ten. If she is below six, a try is not even necessary. Besides, these are hard economic times. Each and every penny must be saved so that the pounds take care of themselves. You don’t have to go and pump money to somebody’s belly at java. The current manager might follow his predecessor to kamiti and I don’t want to be blamed.

Taking these necessary measures does not mean that I am stingy. No. Avoiding risks is just nature and a positive human characteristic. There is only one fear which I admit. Dating is very much like going to a restaurant with your friends. You order what you want, and when you see what the other person has you wish you had ordered that instead. Queer business isn’t it? That’s the only thing I am afraid of.

She added that I was not romantic enough. Now, that’s something hard to define. She drew a list of it. I had to get her sticky notes with romantic stuff like ‘honey you are sweet’ and stick them in the weirdest of places like a lecture room door, behind her desk etc. I had to get her some flowers and chocolate, that’s normal I can do it anytime. The sticky note bit I cannot do because if that is what being romantic is, then am not. According to her, I didn’t know how to care for a lady.

Other than those romantic candle lit dinners which I thought she wasn’t worth of them anyway, I had to walk around town holding her hand. That is P.D.A [public display of affection]. It is not really African to do that. The only people who are allowed to do it are teen love amateurs and newlyweds. I was just too busy for that and I could not do it no matter how hard she pressurized me. I had to create time for her in my busy schedule each and every day. That is like being a prisoner to her. Squeezing myself to fit in to her plans is just unrealistic. Other than dating her, mine was a whole lot different life from hers. I have to do what any normal man got to do, have my occasional weekends alone and later go to watch a football game with the boys. Sitting curled up in a couch the whole day whispering sweet nothings and watching a movie was just not my thing. That is what she suggested I be doing on weekends and it is just not manly.

That gave her the guts to call me an old fashioned man. If modern men get all that foolishly lovey dovey it was a pleasure to remain old fashioned.

She added guys such as me like to talk big about themselves. Giving yourself praise for visible and non visible achievements is not a bad thing. After all we have grown up listening to our dads talk big about themselves every time. I guess am just a chip off the old block. It’s not abnormal. She concluded by saying I was commitment phobic. Who is not? Every man has the fear of the word C. Being tied up by somebody that you even lack breathing space is just too bad. You have to keep yourself open lest something happens. You never know when the craving will strike. You must be ready to jump ship anytime.

I would like to say men are creatures which you cannot tame. The best thing to do is just keep mum about their behavior. This will save ladies a few headaches and heartaches down the line but sometimes stick on his neck, you never know. He might have already jumped ship.

Happy long-long-after-Valentines Day

miamor — Fri, 25 Feb 2011 06:00:39 +0000

We attract who we ARE not who we WANT.

This has been one of my guiding phrases. I love it because it focuses the conundrum of love on you and not ‘those others’. Here’s the thought process: all your partners – former and current – have only one thing in common: you! You are the common denominator so if you are always attracting or attracted to a particular kind of person, then it’s up to you to explore if there is something in you that is similar to those characteristics that always appear in your love life.

I wouldn’t say that love is something you go out to find but I do think you must be ready for it; your heart needs to be fertile enough to receive it when and/if it shows up. That can’t happen if conditions are only perfect for the wrong kind of people; those who neglect, abuse, ignore, insult or take you for granted. If you’re needy, pushy, closed-off, bossy, boring….whatever it is, you need to know it. It’s not the end of the world if you’re those things, but my policy is “it’s best to know”.

Furthermore, if you keep doing the same thing when it comes to love, then it stands to reason that you’ll keep getting the same results. Now is as good a time as any to try something different. Tweak something, change something and see if that changes your love patterns.

Now that the hullabaloo surrounding Valentine’s Day is past, I hope you will take the time to assess your love life. Think of it as taking your car (heart) for maintenance before a long road trip (your love life). There’s nothing to be ashamed or judgmental about and who knows, you may be pleasantly surprised. You may find that you’re always attracted to smart intelligent partners because you are a smart, intelligent person. You may also find gems of information, for example you’re attracted to unavailable partners because you yourself have an entire security system, complete with guard dogs, around your heart. While this may not feel like a gem, it actually is since it points you to a specific aspect of who are and gives you the opportunity to change it, or not.

I look forward to hearing from you. I truly hope you had a fantastic Valentines day but I hope even more, that the future of your love life is much more fantastic than just one day.

Big Shock!

Mwesh — Wed, 23 Feb 2011 06:00:49 +0000

There I was, cheque in hand, in my car, trying to figure out if it was wise to bank the cheque since I had arrears pending and seriously it was such a good deal that some small devil in me was thanking Sandra so much……and back to reality Michelle was my friend and at this particular moment she was my priority. Sighing with relief I was out of the drive way. My mind kept wandering off and of course the angry drivers kept hooting at me to get out of the way.

My mind was so occupied that I had missed a call from my husband. I had to stop at a petrol station to call him back. He sounded really pissed but that did not bother me so much because his next statement pissed me off so much I almost cursed out loud. “Sandra was here to see me, we need to talk immediately,” he said. The name Sandra makes me want to throw up or should I say like a friend of mine who has been having dreams of strangling her? Sandra had become a pain in places that I cannot mention but really she had gone over board.

I jumped into my car and was speeding more than I usually do. I could see the other motorists shaking their heads in shock. Like I cared, I was about to strangle a woman who had given me an endless zero cheque but had the audacity to go to my house, for a reason that I could not comprehend. The questions in my head were whirling around and I almost felt dizzy. I reached home in less that thirty minutes and my husband was waiting for me at the door. I tried to read the expression on his face and his body language but zero.

I noticed that he was not in his usual mood. I did not even go far; I sat down on the sofa and beckoned him to go on. We had been married for long and my husband avoided arguments like the plague, but knowing him, I could feel one brewing (like in cartoons when their faces turn pink and steam comes out of their heads).

I was ready for whatever was coming. He started by asking why the hell I was borrowing money from Sandra, and that was the main reason Sandra had come over. “She says that she gave you a large sum of money that you had borrowed to start a business. She even showed me the page she had recorded in her cheque book which was dated three months ago, “he said pacing back and forth (he was really making me dizzy). He looked at me waiting for an answer. Knowing him, I shut up and waited for him to unload what that conniving (mmh looking for a word so harsh that she would die if I uttered it). Sandra had really crossed the line. “There is something else she left with me in an envelope. Don’t try and deny this one because it is very true and this is evidence enough,” he said sadness in his voice.

I picked up the envelope and there I was in a photo hugging Eugene, a long lost school mate I had met at the mall one day. I never thought of denying, so I kept quiet until he finished. “Is that all?” I asked. He nodded and sat down. Now it was my turn to pace back and forth (pay back for dizziness was a B****). In my head I wanted to lash out at my husband because he seemed to believe Sandra more than I, and I was in a trance because I was not sure what to tell him. I coughed and then turned to him and asked him, “How long have we been married? And I refer to the photo which you seem to believe more than me. That is Eugene, we were in the same university and I bumped into him when the kids and I had gone for lunch the time you were out of the country. Remember I told you. You have to believe me I would not cheat on you and I have no reason to.”

I had to say something about the cheque. I had not checked the date on the cheque when I received it, I guess at that moment I was not sure what to do with the cheque. I took my handbag and removed the cheque and showed it to my husband who as soon as he looked at the date gave it back to me. He looked furious and asked me “T, what is this? I mean you needed money and you could not ask me, your husband?” A moment of silence because I had to wait for him to calm down and then I told him, “Sandra gave me this cheque today because she knows I am aware of what she and Michelle’s husband have been doing. It is meant to be a buy off for my silence. Believe me or not that’s the whole truth”, I said and went to the bedroom.

After this fight a week later, my husband had been out of the house for some hours each time he left the office and I was always suspicious because he was not the kind of person who went out after work. Recently he had been coming late and receiving text messages late in the night. I was never a snoopy person but I had to get to the bottom of it. On this particular occasion he was in the bathroom and there it was in black and white…SANDRA….messages at midnight and during the day meeting at places so expensive my husband never even took me to such places on top of that seductive messages that I could not even read, am a very imaginative person but I was not sure what was going on and I was not going to ask him until he decided to tell me himself. Sandra in my mind was time to get rid of her…and this was ultimate.

I know I was being selfish because my first agenda was Michelle and here was this mad woman called Sandra up in my business seducing my husband. I told myself, “T, you are bright it is time to end this.” That night I cooked his best meal and as a family we had a splendid dinner. I told him that I was going to invite Sandra for lunch over the weekend. The cloudy look on his face said it all, either he knew I was up to something but he was not happy. That did not move me.

I started thinking of ways to destroy this once and for all. That night I went over to Michelle’s because I had to tell her. This had gone too far and I needed my best friend. I had given Michelle a call and she was really apprehensive because I hinted it was about her and we needed a quiet moment alone to discuss. I felt as if I didn’t want to do this alone but I needed my conscience clear. I picked Michelle from her house and went to one of our favorite places.

I did not beat about the bush; I went straight in with it and said, “I think Sandra and your husband are having an affair.” She looked at me shocked and nodded as a sign for me to go ahead. “ I don’t want to judge but I think it is true, she was in my house to see me and said nasty things to my husband and left a cheque behind which I believe was a buy off and I had to tell you,” I said. I knew I had bended the truth but it was enough to convict her. She wanted to see the cheque and I drew it out of my purse and gave her.

“What the hell?” she asked. I nodded and told her that Sandra had no reason to hand me over such a cheque unless she had something to hide. I also told her about the text messages she had been sending my husband and the places they were meeting. “It’s plain nasty for her to do that, am not sure what to do. I have not confronted him yet but let him tell me himself. I am having her for lunch this weekend are you game?” I asked.

Hey what do you say we bank that cheque and go shopping?
~ Michelle

In the time I had talked to Michelle she was very quiet about it. I was not sure what she was thinking. Finally she spoke, “I have known all along and it has been a secret that I have been keeping and I did not want to bother you with it. You know that I don’t like when people are up in my business.” I could not believe it. I mean how in the world were we friends if we could not talk? For a moment I felt so stupid for thinking that all this time I was doing an honorable thing for her and yet she actually knew it. Michelle noticed the look on my face and knew that I was mad and said, “Hey what do you say we bank that cheque and go shopping?” I looked at her with a grin on my face and said nothing. I feigned tiredness and drove her home and was back to my house.

Is Michelle who she says she really is? Am I a bad person to think her a bad person? Sandra is now my biggest problem since Michelle seems to have handled her business way in advance. Waiting for Sandra, but is it worth it? I mean or will she fade away in the background?

Editor’s Note:
Part 1 of the series – How can I tell her…or do i just shut up?
Part 2 of the series – Talk about wrong timing
Part 3 of the series – Duped And Deceived
Part 4 of the series – Big Shock!

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