Hello

Your subscription is almost coming to an end. Don’t miss out on the great content on Nation.Africa

Ready to continue your informative journey with us?

Hello

Your premium access has ended, but the best of Nation.Africa is still within reach. Renew now to unlock exclusive stories and in-depth features.

Reclaim your full access. Click below to renew.

Fiolina’s impromptu visit and why we’re not on talking terms

Fiolina

“Do not touch me!” Fiolina said when I tried to touch her. 

Photo credit: John Nyaga | Nation Media Group

For quite some time now, you may be aware, Fiolina has not been home. One would think that Kakamega is very far from Mwisho wa Lami, yet it is just about 45 kms away. Whenever I have asked her to come home, all she has said is that she is busy. If they are not going for team building, she has work to complete.

For the last few weeks, she has claimed to be taking driving lessons every Saturday, and as a result, could not be able to travel to Mwisho wa Lami over a weekend. Many of you will ask why I could not visit. The last two times that I visited, I was clearly unwelcome.

If you remember, only Sospeter seemed happy to see me. Honda and Electina would do things to show that I was unwanted. Whenever I entered the sitting room, they would enter their bedroom. Even the house girl could not serve me food, unless I asked, in which case she had to call Fiolina to get express permission. Fiolina herself would come back home late and leave very early every day.

Extra mouth 

In July, Catherine, Branton’s mother, tried to extort me by asking me for money for his upkeep. When I did not budge, she brought Branton back to Mwisho wa Lami. It was not easy having him, for it meant that I had to adjust my life. Before he came, I was living like a bird, arriving and leaving home at will. With Branton back, I had to mind this extra mouth, and spare time to take care of him.

Luckily for me, during election time, my sister Yunia came and picked the boy. Even though I knew she would use her staying with Branton to extort me, it was a much better deal for me than having to, every day, think about what the boy would eat.

So once again, I remained alone and got the freedom to live freely. I stopped cooking but did not stop eating. The last few weeks, with Rumona around, I have frequently been passing by her place for supper.

Last Friday, after school, I went to Hitler’s, from where I passed by Rumona’s place for dinner before going home. As I approached my house, I was surprised to see the lights on. To my surprise, Fiolina was around. I had left the house in a mess, and I knew she would confront me, but shockingly, she warmly welcomed me, saying how she had missed me. Food was ready and, although I had eaten at Rumona’s , I could not say no. I ate like I had not eaten at all.

“Your water is ready in the bathroom,” Fiolina told me. I cannot remember the last time she had done this for me, but it was a nice feeling. I left the bathroom happily singing and whistling - until I saw Fiolina with my phone. She was scrolling down, reading messages. Although I had showered and was cold, thin sweat started streaming down my face. I tried to get the phone from her unsuccessfully.

Singing Christian songs 

“I just remembered I needed to call my sister Yunia and talk to Branton,” I said, reaching for the gadget, but she would not let me have it.


After what appeared like a century, she handed me the phone without a word and started singing Christian songs. Although she had worn Seng’enge ni ng’ombe t-shirt, ready to sleep, she dressed up and started praying and singing in the sitting room. Her worship got louder as she moved from room to room, asking God to forgive me.

Meanwhile, I went through my phone, looking at what I should have deleted before getting home: WhatsApp messages to and from Rumona, and several other people that I would not mention, some M-Pesa messages that I could not explain, among other things. I must have dozed off, because when I woke up, Fiolina was in bed.

“Do not touch me!” she said when I tried to touch her. “Go touch those people you have been telling that you miss them,” she added, pushing my hand away. I retreated and slept.

I woke up to more singing and praying. Breakfast was, however, set on the table, and in as much as I was angry and did not want anything to do with her, food is where I drew the line. I ate the breakfast. I had planned to leave that Saturday, but the situation was such that I could not. Fiolina kept singing as she cleaned the house and moved things around rather loudly.

At 10 o’clock, I went to my parents’ home and spent time with my old man. When I returned, I found Sella, a colleague at school and Fiolina’s friend, visiting. The three of us chatted like all was well, but as soon as Sella left, Fiolina went back to her singing. Anindo, Nyayo’s wife, also came to help Fiolina with work, and we talked like it was normal. We resumed the cold war upon her leaving. 

The good apostle 

I left for Hitler’s a few minutes after. When I returned, I found a man and a woman that I had never met. They introduced themselves as pastors in a church whose name I could not remember. After some chit-chat, they said they wanted to leave, and made the last prayer.

“Mungu atabariki ndoa yako dada Fiolina na bwana wako atakua mwaminifu, katika jina la Yesu!” the Pastor said. Fiolina immediately resumed her singing as soon as they left. The whole night!

On Sunday morning, Apostle Elkana visited us. After breakfast, he tried to speak to us, but Fiolina stopped him. “Apostle, just pray for us, especially him, as he does not listen,” she said. The good Apostle, prayed for me to change my ways, then left.

Another person, who introduced himself as Fiolina’s Pastor in Kakamega, arrived at noon. He also had made a long prayer, mostly asking God to change me. We talked a lot when he was there but as soon as he left, Fiolina resumed her singing, ignoring me.

When I woke up on Monday, Fiolina was not in bed, but breakfast was ready. I tried calling her after breakfast, but she disconnected all my calls, the whole day. That evening, she sent me an SMS: “I am bark to Kakamega, utaniambia ukibadilika.” I did not respond. She still doesn’t pick my calls.

To men who have managed such a situation, how do I go about resolving this? And to you Fiolina, however angry you are, please talk to me.