I am not a promiscuous man, but I never beat around the bush when it comes to marrying. I do not believe in dating; I find people to be like dice; no matter how many times you roll one you never know what it will roll tomorrow? Also, human beings are particularly good at creating false impressions depending on their interests. Dating for me is like a job interview. Full of bullshit from both parties; an interaction where both interviewer and interviewee act like they are better people than they truly are. My kind of kind of job interview goes like, “Are you looking for a plumber? I am a plumber.” End of interview! As for the contract it only has one clause, “Me work, you pay.” Sign here… The only thing needed in marriage is for both parties to promise not to be assholes, the rest is details. However, in our beloved city of Nairobi, violent goons have a tendency of ruining otherwise promising interactions.
I was once 20 years old and single… Not searching but my ‘Wi-Fi’ was still on, so I was open to the idea of love. I went out for the night and upon ‘outing’ to my fill began to make my way home. As I got to the car park (No, I was not driving but I needed to go through the car park to get to the stage to wait for a late night matatu). I heard a skid like noise, followed by a loud thud. I turned around and saw this beautiful lady sprawled on the ground. She had glasses on, that gave her sexy teacher vibes.
“Did you just fall from heaven?” I said to her, “Your elbows are bleeding angel… ” As she struggled to get up in her stiletto heels, I held her by her delicate dusty hands and helped her up and oh boy, what fine work of art she was… But I was a good boy who believed in ‘tenda wema nenda zako’ so I continued with my journey to the bus stop after she got on her feet. As I walked away, she asked, “Nimechafuka?” “You have some dirt on you,” I answered. “Where?” she said as she tried to inspect her backside. Being a shy guy, I was not confident pointing at women’s bums, so I tried to solve the problem using the monkey-see-monkey-do method (You know, where you make a gesture, and the other person can repeat the same thing on their own body).
Miss Angel Teacher made a poor attempt at wiping her backside then bended over against the bonnet of a car, flipped her hair to the side, gave me a cheeky look and said, “Why don’t you come and wipe it off for me?” I pointed at myself like, “Me?” She pouted and asked, “Can’t you help a lady?” and then slowly wiggled her bum as if to say, “This is what I need help with.” I thought to myself, why ‘nenda zangu’ if I haven’t finished ‘tendaring wema’? I quickly wiped off the dirt of her behind like cha! cha! cha! Keeeping it official, keeping it 100 since I did not want to appear thirsty or anything like that.
“You’re good now,” I said to her, to which she protested, “But you haven’t wiped it properly…” and gave me that puss in boots cute guilt tripping eyes look. “Please, don’t be shy. It would be a shame for a lady to walk around in dirty jeans… “
My husband material senses kicked in immediately. I sized her up and thought, “Yeah, I could totally tolerate this one if she promises not to be an asshole… ” I rolled up my sleeves and dived right back in to finish my jeans cleaning assignment. She started making some small talk, and all I could think about was how to propose to her without sounding like a creep. Should I ask her out for coffee first? But then I would be lying by pretending to be interested in coffee when that’s not what I really wanted… Or should I first explain to her my theory on why dating is bullshit? Then if she says, “Yeah, that kinda makes sense” I pop the question…
As I was thinking about high-speed matrimony some drunken boys started fighting in the car park. This scared my newly found bae and made her turn around and sit on the car’s bonnet, wary of the ensuing scuffle (Which I preferred because it was awkward talking to her bum). I tried to shoo them away like flies but to no avail. Make love not war damn it! The fighting intensified and soon projectiles were being launched, and instead of having love in the air we had flying stones in the air. One oblong stone flew right between me and bae’s benevolent head. She ducked in fear and took to her heels, scampering to safety. I had had it with these Muppets, and I absolutely lost it.
“Wewe!” I shouted. “Unatupia mjaluo mawe? Omera you will regret that decision!” On hearing that I was Luo he realized the grave mistake he had made and started running for dear life. Like David, about to set Goliath straight, I picked up 3 choice stones and gave chase. I had pursued him for a couple hundred meters when I stopped. The speed at which that guy took off! He must have had Kalenjin ancestry. I clapped for him as he disappeared into the horizon; aside from ruining my chances at finding love, that was an exemplary athletic performance.
I went back to the carpark to search for the love of the past 20 minutes of my life but alas, she was nowhere to be found. It’s not just people, but life itself is like dice. You just never know what the next roll will be…
I went back to the car park but alas, bae was gone. No goodbye, no number, no letter, nothing. The booty wiggling teacher angel, gone. Because of violence. Let’s embrace peace people.
