Mr Survivor: Omosh lands me in Siberia for driving Makena in Concorde
Maintaining emotional equilibrium at the palace is not a walk in the park. This is because of the competing interests and supremacy battles between the two women residents – my Queen and Makena, our long serving house help. When two ambitious women share the same compound, it becomes a fertile ground for fertile imaginations.
You see, Queen, as the moniker tells it all, is the one and only queen of my heart and there is no need to substantiate the obvious. On the other hand, Makena, alias, CPA (comptroller of palace affairs) as her moniker suggests, suffers from overzealous servant syndrome. In government circles, those who suffer from the syndrome misuse their closeness to their boss to act as if they are the boss.
It is this overzealous syndrome that drives Makena, knowingly or unknowingly, to act in a manner likely to suggest that she can or has replaced Queen as the deputy in the palace. This is gross infringement to Queen’s territorial independence. Expectedly, Queen does not take it lightly, leading to the intermittent palace wars. Unfortunately, there cannot be any good war in the palace without my name being dragged in it, however innocent I could be.
You will certainly remember that Omosh is in my fulltime employment running the Concorde. And you will also remember that he has been claiming that he owns the Concorde. In that respect, on Sunday, Omosh decided to treat Makena. This is not a bad thing since even Queen has finally reluctantly accepted that the two are lovebirds. The problem was that he decided to drop her right at the palace and in full glare of Queen.
Later that evening, I found a combative Queen.
“So you have taken Omosh’s wife?” Queen asked. I had just knocked at the main door and was eager to get into the house.
“How and where does Omosh’s wife come in now? When last did I even see her?” I asked. From the way she was speaking and breathing, I knew the third world war had just broken.
“Kwani unanibeba aje? Huyo ni nani umekuja naye?” Queen asked. She was pointing at the direction of the car park. I turned back and my first instinct was to dash for dear life. At first I thought it was a ghost before realising it was the figure of a woman and finally confirming that it was Makena. Being Omosh’s girlfriend, she was the one being referred to as Omosh’s wife.
“This is now drama. What are you doing outside at this time?” I asked Makena.
“Nilifika mbeleyako kiasi mama akasema hatanifungulia,” Makena said.
“Do not think that I am a fool!” Queen retorted.
At that moment, Makena decided to come out clean. “Mimi nililetwa mbele kiasi na Omosh,” Makena said.
Certainly, Queen knew, or rather had been told that Makena and Omosh had been seen in the Concorde and she wanted to create a mountain out of a mole hill. It was her way of telling me that Makena and Omosh are using my, nay, our family car for their own erotic expeditions.
“Now you have heard for yourself. I have no business with that car so long as Omosh deposits the agreed amount of money every evening. Whom he carries and where they go is his own funeral!” I said.
“So, where is the intelligence in that? How do people know it is not you in your car? What do you think they are saying when they see her? Are they not asking what I do not give you so that you go getting from other women? For how long will I continue getting blamed for your short sightedness?” Queen lectured. “But anyway, what is a second-hand car to cost me my sleep?”
Also read: Mr Survivor: How I’m avoiding marital Siberi
With those words, she opened the door and went into the bedroom.
And true to her words, what business can she have with a vintage Volkswagen Beetle when I have bought her a new second-hand Volkswagen Passat?
Well, your guess is very right; I was right then banished to marital Siberia on account of Makena and Omosh’s carelessness. The following morning, I decided to warn the two love birds through SMS, “Nyinyi mtajipanga, musipojipanga mtapangwa.” The truth of the matter, however, is that it is I who needs to plan myself properly. As it were, I have already been planned where it matters most.
It is now clear to me that money and name cannot buy one happiness. Even after working very hard to be the proud owner of two German machines and being named DC, Queen is still terrorising me at the palace.