Ever since Fiolina and I got married, it has always been me working and the laugh of my life staying at home taking care of affairs in my large, state-of-the-art house.
Except for that short period when she taught at the local nursery school, and when she went for Teaching Practice, Fiolina has always been a perfect and dutiful housewife to me.
As such, we have come to take certain things for granted — like always waking up to find my stylish Green Kaunda suits cleaned and ironed, shoes polished and breakfast ready.
Or always arriving at home to find my supper ready and warm water for bathing waiting for me – on days when Fiolina is in the mood. And children always being told to respect my things — books, and the bunch of keys that open multiple doors at school
But things have been changing in the last few weeks, particularly during this long vacation. You see, before schools closed, we were both working, and the children were busy with school. But now roles seem to have been swapped — I am the only person not working. As you know, Fiolina is busy, leaving very early and returning late, while the girls — Electina and Honda — are always busy with cleaning, cooking, and many other unending house chores. Given that baby Sospeter has a strict schedule that he follows, with specific time for breakfast, fruit-time, sleeping, playing and bathing, we can comfortably say that he is working.
It is only yours truly who has free days, and when I wake up, I have nothing specific to do!
If we were in Mwisho wa Lami, there is quite a lot I would do. There is a farm to take care of, a big home to clean, a fence to mend, relatives to visit, and of course Hitler’s to complete the day.
In Kakamega, the house is small, the compound even smaller, and I do not know of anyone I can visit. And while Golf Hotel is my local, anyone will tell you that it is not a place where a teacher’s wallet will allow frequenting.
And as expected, I found myself on a collision course with Fiolina on small things. Like two weeks ago, she caused drama when she returned home to find that the bed had not been made. Since I usually wake up earlier than her, she always makes the bed. But during this holiday, she leaves the house when I am still in dreamland.
“What kind of man wakes up and leaves the bed unmade?” She confronted me. “What example are you showing the young ones?” Since then, I have been making the bed.
Last weekend, the bulb in our bedroom blew. I had planned to replace it but forgot in the course of the day.
“So, what is keeping you busy if you can’t sort simple house issues?” She asked. “Who needs a man who can’t even fix a bulb?”
She went on to say that I should have gone to Nairobi to mark KCPE Insha . “We would be living in peace,” she said. I reminded her that she was the one who discouraged me from going, saying she could give me the little money I would earn from marking exams. “I did not know you would come here and be this useless!” She said.
Last weekend, she informed me that she would start working from home. I wondered how one could do a sales job from home. “The problem with you is that you think every job is like teaching, where you have to be in class physically. Even teaching can be done from home.” On Monday, she came back home carrying a laptop. After praying for it, she took it in the bedroom and hid it under the bed, warning everyone against touching it.
Having owned a laptop before – remember I was the first teacher this side of the Sahara to own one, although it was brought down by a virus worse than Covid – I attempted to turn Fiolina’s laptop on to see if it was better than my old one.
Fiolina came out of the bathroom to find me with the laptop. “Do you know the cost of that laptop?” She asked. “Even your half a year’s salary can’t buy such a machine. Please do not touch it.” She went on: “Has your employer ever entrusted you with any valuable thing other than that bunch of keys?”
The next morning, she woke up early to work but struggled to turn the laptop on. I wanted to help her but she would not let me do it. She kept reminding me that her laptop was more advanced than what I owned. She kept calling her boss whenever she was stuck, sometimes asking very basic questions like: “Please remind me of my password.” Once, she went to her boss’s house to be taught some complex manipulators like Copy and Paste.
On Thursday, I woke up and went to run. I ran for 11 kilometres and got back home at around 9.30am.
I just wanted to enter the bedroom, shower and change. But the door was locked. I could hear Fiolina on a phone call. I knocked and knocked.
Half an hour later, an angry Fiolina opened the door, shouting at me. “Can’t you hear I am in a meeting?”.
I told her I just wanted to pick my clothes. “It is a video meeting, you cannot enter the bedroom! Or you want to be seen naked?” I told her that one could disable video, but she said it was not possible on her laptop and closed the door again.
I had to wait in the living room with my sweaty running gear. It wasn’t until 11.30am that I was finally allowed to pick my clothes in less than 10 minutes as another Zoom meeting was about to begin.
Since then, the bedroom has been turned into her office, with Sospeter and I banned from being near the room during the day.
