You know it’s time for you to get married once more than two of your exes have settled down. It means you have been in the game for way too long, holding the queue and contaminating the dating scene with your bad luck, and that something needs to be done to get you off the market. If it were up to me a wife or husband would be assigned to you. We would have a section at Huduma Centre where you would show up with your ID, register as a serial single person and come back in two weeks for your spouse. At this stage, your taste and preference will not matter. Whether you like them short or tall is none of our business. You had your time, failed to make your pick, now you have to live with whoever is chosen for you. But it’s not up to me so you can get married when you want.
Anyway, so last month I go on WhatsApp status and what do I see? My ex being proposed to. It was late in the night and I remember sitting up, holding the phone too close to my eyes and staring at the photo in disbelief. I have never been to Naivasha but from the background, I could tell it was Naivasha because Naivasha, just like Kunguni, can never be mistaken. She was wearing a short, shorts sleeve white dress that matched with the man’s white attire, save for his horrible, black open shoes. That he proposed with open shoes and she said yes made me wonder where the rain started beating her after we parted ways.
I stared at that photo for a little longer than I should have, and in those moments wondered why I was yet to propose to someone’s daughter, or why I have never thought of proposing. I was suddenly aware of the fast-approaching old age and the chances of me never going to church on Sundays because my wife insists I must. There was a temptation to drop her a message and ask her what happened to us, but I respect myself so I instead called her and asked what happened to us but, most importantly, what happened to her?
“What do you mean?”
“The man was wearing open shoes while proposing and you said yes. Surely, the you I know would not have allowed that to happen.”
“We were on vacation and one is allowed to wear what they want.”
“Not when they are planning to propose.”
Haha. The conversation did not happen because I did not call her. What happened is I started thinking of all my exes and all the exes in general. Don’t our exes owe us something? Is it right that they should get married without letting us know? The moment you date someone you agree to the possibility of them coming back, even if it’s ten years later, to ask that you take them back. Until this happens, you are allowed to see other people, but you are not allowed to get married to them, no? Is this not how it’s supposed to be? Because it should be.
Because of this engagement, and because of my birthday last Saturday, I have been thinking about marriage a lot. I think I am ready for it. I am ready to go to church on Sundays and clap for Jesus because Jesus would want me to, yes, but also because my wife would want me to. I am ready to go out with friends but don’t order food because it’s taboo to come home to your wife with a full stomach. There seems to be a general rule in marriage that your wife is in charge of your stomach. Not to say she should cook for you, this is not 1902, but she has a say in what goes into your stomach. If you eat out, you better have an explanation as to why.
I am ready for what marriage has to offer, which is pleasure mixed with misery. You can run away from this reality all you want, but you can only get so far without surrendering to this piece of nature. I am ready to propose to someone’s daughter somewhere next to a lake or an ocean, but first I have to find this someone’s daughter and make sure she has a healthy relationship with her eyebrows. If she can take care of her eyebrows, she can take care of you.
Kwa hayo machache, I am back to blogging every Tuesday. So, subscribe if you haven’t, and buy my new book, Sealed with a Kiss if you haven’t. WhatsApp me here to buy. https://bit.ly/hereforbooks