Of blind dates and arranged marriages.

On my third year in secondary school, my uncle, father's cousin came to visit us. He came from the land where my paternal grandpa was from, Comoros. He was a big man there, served the government there in various capacities. And he was a dual citizen of France and Comoros. After he returned back, my mum and dad sat me and asked me if I would like to marry my uncle's first born daughter, after school. I said No without hesitation. Its obvious uncle liked me so much but I had not seen his daughter. Obviously she spoke Comorian and French while I speak English and Swahili. But the most important reason that had weight at that time to me was, Parents choosing a marriage partner for you was so outdated and evil. I believed two people should meet, be friends then fall in love before getting married.

Along the Coast of East Africa, its a widespread Norm for aunts, uncles and family friends to fix marriages. When you are fed up with the chase, just talk to your aunt and she will find a good husband or wife for you.

That is for the older generation. Now we have fix ups and blind dates. A time reaches when you got all this love under your chest and the ones you want to give seem disinterested. You long for intimacy. And most importantly, age is catching up with you and the normal thing is to have a partner which you can travel life with, raise children and grow old in their arms. Is it a crazy thing, yes. Does it work, Yes too, most of the time. When two people are serious on love and have it to give sincerely, then the time they have known each other is irrelevant. They will get to know each other as they go along and be just and reasonable in their differences. We got couples who met on social networks nowadays, so many. Some work out and some don't, but its just the same as marriages that build up through other means.

Personally, I have had many people....Correction, Many girls come into my inbox while some call to ask if I knew anyone who is interested in marrying, 'them'. Some hit on me, and some say they have a good match for me. Pictures have been sent. But others conceal them lest they die of shame if you rejected them. But its crazy, how do you expect me to be attracted if you hide yourself?

Anyway, there are too many out there looking for love. But they wont show their desperation. To date, only one Male came to me asking if I could find a girl for him to marry. But he was weird. I thought it was purely unconditional but he had preferences. That the girl should not be taller than him, religious, fair colored, beautiful and must have curly long hair.

The year 2003 was both my lucky and unlucky year, I got employed in one of the biggest marine operators and ships service in Africa. After a long hustle with temporary jobs, finally patience and prayers were paying off. But again, this was the time my mum was pressuring me about getting married. Whenever we met, stories were your uncle's daughter is mature now. Your aunt's daughter is beautiful, she suits you. Or My friend's daughter is a good girl. She even sent other relatives to talk to me but I wasn't ready about the marriage thing. I had big dreams ahead, I wanted to focus on my career and the limit for me with girls was just flirting in hang outs. While other parents force partners to their kids, and act hostile on their kid's chosen lovers, my mum didn't seem to care which girl I will bring home. Until to date, I have not seen her choosy on the daughter in law thing. She is always nice and doesn't give a hard time to any girl I bring home. Maybe she trusts my judgment. But maybe she just wants me to be married, to whoever. That's a big deal to her.

That was the year my friend, Frank, fixed me up with his coworker, Umazi, at the Safaricom dealers outlet opposite Bima Towers. He nagged for a long time and I had a feeling my mum talked him into that. So Friday night I was at ROCKWALL waiting for the date. Just a formality, to silence him. Maybe she is hideous, maybe she wears spectacles, maybe she sleeps around too much, I thought. But I was wrong. The girl who said hi and sat on my table had an electrifying smile. Her hair was done neatly to accent her cute baby face. I saw a beautiful line up of a set of teeth that day. I replied hello and pretentiously cleared my throat as I stole a glance at her perky bosom. Blind dates are a good thing. We gruntled over the thick Indian bread and spiced roasted chicken. She was fun, and a real georgette.

I saw her off to her car after the dinner. I offered to drive with her to her place but she declined. Anyway, she let me peck her on the lips before driving off. The next day I passed by their outlet to say Hi to her and thank my friend Frank. That night, I told Frank that I'm already in love. He looked at my eyes sadly and told me its not gonna work. Forget her, he said. Why? We had such a good time. He then explained to me that Umazi said she doesn't like guys who are a little overweight. And so it was a heartbreak before it started. I had laid my guard down concerning preemptive evil cupid strategy. I slept it off for a week but it was still there. It was true, I was truly in love. But with one who doesn't love me back. Keeping myself busy with extra work at the office and many movies at home didn't succeed in shaking off my thoughts on this elusive romance.

After a month, Frank offered a trip to the countryside as a way to take my mind off the disappointment. We Crossed over Likoni Ferry and at Kombani we took the Kwale route. Just before we reached Kwale, we took a left on a murram road in an area known as Vuga. And we drove for about fifteen Kilometers. On the way we passed baboons playing on a dense tree forest. There must be Big snakes here, i said. Yeah, Frank replied as we crossed over a small stream to climb a fourth hill I counted from Vuga. Have you been here before? I asked. Yeah. This area is Tingeti. When I was having trouble winning my Mama Karisa, I came to meet a “traditional artist” here and I'm happy now.

Now I knew exactly why he had brought me here . I told him that I don't believe in witchcraft. I consider witch-doctors as lazy con-men who scare people at night so that they can be worshiped. We stopped in front of a thatched round mud house and he got out. I refused to get out and showed him that I was angry at him. He got in and came out with an old man wearing only a piece of black cloth on his waist down and a feathery head gear. He greeted me and started saying things about me. You were born at night, You are a good person, you will become president sixteen years from now, your heart is broken,...i stopped him and said I'm not interested. Don't be shy my son, he replied. I will will fix everything up for you. He disappeared in his hut and came out with two men and women carrying Kayambas. They started singing and dancing while chanting strange words in their Duruma language. They went round the car while Professor, as the traditional doctor called himself threw greenish liquid to the car and me.

After half an hour, they stopped. He gave me a pill and told me to swallow. I looked at it and put it in my wallet. Then he said One thousand shillings. What for? I asked. He said it would have been five hundred if we brought a cock. I told him I'm not giving him any money. He stared at me for about a minute, took a good look at my expensive wear and the car. Then said, because I had refused some procedures for the love to work, the gods have decided I will not get the girl I wanted. Then he said the gods have said I should take his daughter, one of those girls who were dancing, and make her my wife. She opened the back door of our car and called, Dama get in here. From today, Ahmedinho will be your husband. It sounded funny at first but then I knew he was serious.

Frank gave him one thousand shillings and bowed to him in respect then came to sit behind the steering. I said stop. Then I turned to the girl at the back. Hey, I don't love you. This is all a mistake. Please get out so that we can leave. The girl smiled and shook her shoulders to sign that she wont get down. She was smiling happily at me and said “Wewe ni bwanangu, nakupenda.” She sounded ridiculous and stupid. Frank started the engine and off we were returning back. I was so mad. I asked Frank if he was really my friend and had decided to ruin my life. There was no way a Witch doctor's daughter will be forced on me to wife. He smiled. And I began getting scared. I thought of my friends and family back in town. I would be a laughing stock. And this girl was clinging to me like a leech.

I told Frank to stop by a shop not far from where we came from. Complained about thirst, and that we should drink sodas. I asked Frank to let me drive back, which he accepted suspiciously. We went to the shop, except Dama who preferred to remain in the car. I told frank that when we get to Mombasa, I would tell his wife that Dama is his rural sweetheart and he has brought him in town in the pretext that she is my wife. I told him he better have a room ready prepared for his second wife in his house because there was no way I will admit her in my apartment. The ball is in your court. From the look I saw in his face, I knew I had gotten to him.

I finished my soda and went to the car. “for the last time girl, get out and return to your home.” I told Dama. She was still stubborn. I held her arm and began pulling her out. She gave out a girlish cry but that did not deter me. After a minutes of thinking about consequences of the girl in town, Frank came to help me get the girl out of the car. We dropped her down. She was crying and kicking her legs like a small child. We locked our car doors and sped off to Vuga, then to Likoni on our way back home in Ratna Square. Finally a relief. I asked myself what would have happened had the girl reached home? What if my mum welcomed her and treated her as well as a wife? What if, what if....ah its a good thing that I wont deal with that. I smiled at the day's adventure as I inhaled salty humid air while in M.v. Harambee ferry crossing back to Mombasa island.