If you are reading this, it’s too late. I know how that sounds—fatalistic, unscrupulous—but it’s true. See, I have been analysing and I have come to a scientific conclusion based on qualitative studies and ancient Luhya wisdom: As a man, you are better off just letting the woman take the reins. Keyboard warriors, relax, I will explain.
Men, if you think about it, do you think you are the ones who have been making decisions in that relationship? Want proof? For the past two months, my boys and I have been planning an out-of-town trip. You know how it is. Go somewhere where they only serve meat and beer and bad manners.
Somewhere with no girls, okay, somewhere with girls who won’t ask questions, who won’t want to know, “What are we?” We? We are here for the weekend. Boys just want to have fun. Thing is, everyone has sent in their monies, the cars are fuelled, the accommodation is booked—only one problem: The men have to ask for “Visas” from their mamaas. Visa! Visa in this case is permission to stay away for the weekend, mind you, none of my friends are married—well at least not officially.
They could as well be members of the Sinaloa cartel seeing how they just took and started living with these girls, a nod to an unofficial Marriage Personality Test. But these girls are the real mafia, shadow-marking our actual gava, Maria Antoinette with the guillotine. Visa? The passport machine has broken down, she says, there is nowhere you are going Brayo. Kwanza na hii mvua?
If you were the “man”, wouldn’t you just pack up and leave? Lo and behold! You are a ceremonial president, once in a while you are consulted but really, there is no difference between you and Wakoli the security guard. Men, the truth is, we are interns in our relationships. Ours is to wait for directives and play Candy Crush (I am on level 867). It leaves you to focus on other things, like actually going for that prostate exam or making friendships with your children or changing your Tinder location from Lavington to Pipeline (less competition, more sample size).
It is for the same reason that when the wife or madam or mama calls at 2am when you are still out, you can feel the beer lose its taste. Unless you are suicidal, you tell her you are on your way because despite that persistent cough you’ve been ignoring, everyone knows silent treatment doesn’t cure anything. If you want to know how freezing Iceland is, get some cold treatment from your woman. You can no longer even text your boys, “I’m home baby” or “Don’t cheat on me” because DCI (which is what you call your mamaa ) has already figured out your passcode, which is just the same passcode to every other device you own except you add a ! or $. You are not very creative, another reason you should not lead the relationship. You will put everyone at risk.
But when boys turn into men, and men get old they realise the true markers of success are not the gung-ho, chest-thumping “I am the man”. The average man wants to assert his dominance, to show he is macho but if the woman is not on board, he is like a rat on the highway. The man may have the power, but the woman has the influence. He may “make” the decision, but she ratifies it. The man may be the head, but the woman is the neck, and the head can’t look where the neck won’t turn.
I have observed that as men age, they mellow. They hold hands with fellow men, they are gentler and know what truly matters. The more I hang out with these men, the more I see—how much they defer to their wives, how gentle they have become, and sometimes, in the windows of their eyes, I get to peer into their souls and see the young man who is screaming, “Son, it doesn’t matter.” Because of this, and as young people so often do, I thought I knew it all. We always think we know better. It was ever thus, what generation has never thought that they were the special ones?
Now I shall confess that my reason for saying this is completely unsophisticated: I believe women lead relationships because I am non-confrontational, which is kind of like trying to be a meteorologist by looking out the window. I am not telling you to become laissez-faire or give up on your ambitions or become a doormat. Contrary. Relationships are about power play, but the game ends when you stop playing. Not when you win. I am reminded of the painter Francis Bacon, who once said: “I suddenly realised, there it is – this is what life is like… existing for a second, [then] brushed off like flies on a wall… We are born, and we die and there’s nothing else. We’re just part of animal life.”
Slowly, I have accepted that people are who they are. That she is who she is and not who you want her to be. And they will not change to colour inside the boxes you have drawn in your mind. It’s not just that water is wet, it is also that water is not dry. It may sound defeatist to say the world is the way it is, but in truth, it is a liberation.
Because acknowledging the reality in front of you does not necessarily mean tolerating it, it means seeing it clearly and responding in freedom. These are the truths hidden in the stars. A fish and a bird may fall in love, but where will they build their home? Me? I’m a progressive man, I like my women on top—you know what I mean. Besides, your woman is probably (certainly) the head of the home. If you don’t believe it, just ask me. I will tell you.
