Over the years, people have accused me and my beautiful family of bragging. That we are the most educated couple in Mwisho wa Lami and its environs; that we have the best, state-of-the-art bungalow this side of the Sahara; that I was the first man to own a laptop in Mwisho wa Lami... Of course, I am the only person with four motorcycles plying different paths in Mwisho wa Lami and beyond, the most travelled teacher in this county; and that I have the most beautiful wife north of Limpopo. And many other achievements.
It has never really been about bragging. These are undeniable facts. In fact, I never say these things — they just have to be known. So I was surprised when Tito, a former student of mine and the owner of Busy Bee Academy, told me that people were not very happy with me — saying I needed to lie low like an envelope, that I needed to stop boasting about any achievement.
“Have you ever seen me brag about my achievements?” I asked him, over a drink at Cosmos. (Over the last few months — thanks to what comes from the boda boda — I am happy to report that I can now afford to go to Cosmos quite often instead of Hitler's.)
“I haven’t said you brag,” he said, adding that humans are naturally envious.
“If I were you,” he said, “if something good happens to me, I would keep mum about it. Don’t let anyone know.”
I told him I am a public person, and one who the public loves. That anything happening to me — good or bad — is bound to be known and discussed.
He reminded me that no one talks about him. I wanted to tell him that it was because he was a nobody, but I watched my tongue in time. Instead, I asked him what I should do — fully knowing there wasn’t much I could learn from him.
“Just work in silence,” he said, “and never tell anyone your plans, let them find out.”
I vowed to try that — as difficult as it was. That is why I never told anyone — not even my family — when, almost eight months ago, Fiolina, the lucky laugh of my envious life, got a teaching job, a proper teaching job with TSC. The circumstances of how she got the job is a story for another day, but it must be mentioned here that I played a very important role in pushing her name within the higher echelons of TSC.
I actually spent some good money. I didn’t do it for bragging — I believe in the Bible’s wisdom that two heads are better than one. The moment we started receiving two salaries in our great house, it would be the beginning of the end of our many problems.
But I remembered Tito’s words — that I needed to work in silence. I was lucky that Fiolina was posted to a school in another sub-county. As a responsible husband, I did more than what a dutiful husband does. I went there, got her a house in the nearby market, furnished it with a bed, mattress.. basically everything needed to be comfortable — and I paid the rent for a few months.
I did this knowing that TSC sometimes delays salaries, especially the first one. And I did not want my lovely wife to suffer – there wee far many hyenas prowling. I told no one what was happening. Some people believed we had marital issues and that she had gone back to her place; others thought she was staying with a distant relative. Even my sister Caro — Mwisho wa Lami’s Cabinet Secretary for Misinformation, Miscommunication, and Broadcasting Lies — had no idea what was going on. Otherwise, the whole world would have known.
I continued supporting Fiolina, denying myself many things, as I clearly knew things would soon be well.
You see, I expected that once Fiolina got her TSC lump sum, she would hand over all the money to me, her husband, and ask me to plan for her. That she would take on a few responsibilities in the house. That every month she’d send me something — as her man — to appreciate all I have done in her life.
First of all, for marrying her — when no man was interested in her. Then for taking her to college — Mosoriot TTC — a place she’d never have heard of were she not my wife. Friends and enemies, five months after Fiolina received her lump sum — and another four months of earning a salary — I have yet to taste even one shilling of her money. Fiolina hasn’t given me even a shilling; nor has bought me anything, not even roasted maize, not even a handkerchief!
The moment she got the lump sum, she disappeared to Kakamega — ostensibly to visit a friend. Next, I heard, she was building a new semi-permanent house for her parents and had committed to buy her brother, Tocla, a new motorcycle. I had no problem with her doing all this. My only challenge was that we hadn’t discussed it. For if we had, I would have reminded her that TSC pays peanuts. You can’t do much with it.
She became very harsh whenever I tried to bring up the topic of money. But I remained calm, reminding myself that as long as she became independent, what did I have to complain about? I knew that burdens like paying her rent and sending her money for food would soon not be my responsibility. But that is not the case.
A month after her boom, she told me she had many debts and needed support for rent and upkeep — and I paid. The next month, she said TSC had confused her bank account number — and I paid again.
It looks like amezoea . When she called me last week to ask me for rent money, I snapped. I told her she’s actually the one who should be sending me money to appreciate the many things I’ve done for her.
“You haven’t done much, Dre,” she said. “I was qualified for the job, and I’m ready to return all the money you spent on me for fees — just tell me how much and I’ll pay back every cent. Also, do not visit me again!”
Mind you, I had been visiting her every three weeks. She added that paying her rent was not a favour, but my responsibility as her husband.
Ladies and gentlemen, I regret all I have done for Fiolina. I was a fool to take her to college, I was stupid to spend money to get her a proper job, and what was I thinking when, for the last few months, I did everything to make her life comfortable, hoping that she will reciprocate.
If I had another opportunity, I would not have done an of the above, Fiona would have remained a housewife: uneducated, humble and dutiful. I wish I could undo all my mistakes! Good people, fear women!
