Airquotes

Today was my lucky day. I am meeting Veronica for the second time in this week. Not in a pleasant way for her, but for me it was luck. Her small Vitz car has got a flat Tyre and since no good Samaritan had offered to give her a helping hand, there's a good chance she will start seeing me as an angel. I got out from the Matatu just a distance from the Makande police road block. She had parked the car a little off the road for convenience of other motorists. She smiled when she saw my face. Not a romantic smile where a girl had seen her crush. And not completely because of seeing the helping hand. There was another, she knows it and I do too. But I didn't want to remind her of that, so after greetings i got on to the spare Tyre and in ten minutes she was good to go.
She gave me a lift. She was staying in The national housing Estate to the right of Mainland stage in Magongo, Changamwe. While I was from the left side, where we were dwellers in Swahili architectural housing. “So am I getting fake numbered today too?” I asked. She smiled and asked for my number to beep. We met at pirates beach the first time, I saw her talking to my friends Isaac and Mary who resided in the same Estate with her. My friends lived together though not married yet. So after a brief introduction Isaac said, You are single and you are single, so let me and my darling Mary leave you two to see what you'll do about that. I was instantly smitten. I had a thing for curved nubile with pretty cheeks.
Time was not to be wasted. I called her to check if she was free the coming weekend but she was not. I asked about next weekend, and she knew I would see into it if she faked to be busy then too. She didn't seem fond of me, she did give me a fake number the first time. But I was not quitting after one failure. The norm is, girls do not agree the first time. We expect that, that's why we don't give up when we really like them. We try again, we follow up, we find a way to show our interest. And that is what is called Effort.
She did show show up at Noor Restaurant. It was not an expensive place, but it was nice and within my means. I expected her to call and cancel the date but I guess she felt she owed me after the punctured Tyre incident. Or maybe she wanted to put me behind her. After a date, she will tell me she tried but it will not work out and I would stop bothering her. But I was glad she was here, with me. We ordered drinks first and I started asking her questions to float a conversation. I wanted to know her better since I liked her. She only asked about my job, where I hangout on weekends and holidays and my education. I asked about her family, her profession too. And whether she liked politics and football. That was just for fun because I know most girls don't. But I sneaked in questions to see whether we would be compatible as lovers.
Just before the waiter took our order for food, a girl came to the restaurant and tapped Veronica on her shoulder. “Thank God I found you Vero,” she started. “Mark has fallen from the roof of the house, neighbors have rushed him to Port-reitz hospital. Please hurry.” I asked who Mark was and Veronica replied it was her gardener. I offered to go with them but she refused. She said we'll do this another time. I wasn't comfortable with how the event turned out. Not that I'm insensitive but it felt fishy. I hurriedly took a taxi after her car left and I told the driver to follow them.
Instead of heading to Port-reitz, the car took to direction of town. We followed them until they stopped at Uchumi Railways supermarket. I paid the driver and entered the supermarket to see them shopping and laughing. I had been ditched, and was disappointed. I staged an accident of my own and we met at the snacks alley. “Oh, you are here?” I acted surprised. “We came to buy gifts for the patient.” Veronica's friend answered. I said I just came here to do my monthly stock. Veronica's face seemed dehydrated. She asked if I had followed them and I said No. I just needed to buy my food ration. So I took a chocolate bar, told her I would see her on Wednesday night, and headed for the counter.
Wednesday Was Mary's birthday, and Isaac had decided to throw a party for her. I knew Veronica would come. I knew her effort was to make sure I don't get a chance with her. Somehow I knew it, but had not completely accepted it. It seems unfair that a person you like would not like you back. Should I quit, or have a go at it for another time? I asked myself. Surely an effort is good, but its disgusting being followed by a person whom you have no interest in. You don't want to appear conceited or disrespectful by smiling and appearing friendly to the smitten kittens and they keep invading your space until you are bored to death. Somehow they think if you see their face many times, or hear from them now and then, a chemical reaction will happen to make them love you. You feel this for those who you call stalkers, but now you are on the other end. You are the one who is making another uncomfortable with your constant contact and tries.
While others were dancing and talking, I saw her sitting by the drinks table. Clearly a sign that she is single. So if she has no one and I am single, I wondered why we could not hook up? I stayed away from her, I could still feel the betrayal from our date. I talked to others and watched lovers dancing and at last I had to go take another drink. I greeted her, showing her I was not all angry. After three sips, I asked her for a dance. She said she doesn't feel like dancing tonight. So I volunteered to sit with her. I tried a few funny stories, which she displayed insincere smiles. At last I thought I had to be a little more aggressive in my quest. I told her I really liked her despite the last week incident. I placed my hand on top of hers and she immediately decided to fold her arms. I told myself this might be “hard to get.” I asked her again about a dance. I reminded her that she is single and other single men in the party had already acquired partners to go back home with. She didn't seem happy about that revelation. So I got out my camera from my pocket and asked one of the guests to take a picture of us.
That was was the last straw for her. “Why would I want to be in a picture with you? Do you want to tell people that I'm your girlfriend when you show the picture?” She started angrily. “Can't you take a hint Ahmedinho?” her voice rose up. “I have shown you and I have even said it that I'm not interested in you. What more do you want from me? Is your happiness making people who rejected you miserable? Tell me, say it. Or do you think I like your childish romantic stunts? Hear me and hear me good: If there were no other men left on this earth, I would still not want to be with you. You are nosy, but whats important is that I don't find you attractive. You do not make my heart skip a beat. So please, just stay away from me.”
All eyes were on me. The dancers, drinkers and those who were having talks in the kitchen and balcony. I felt embarrassed and exposed. I felt hurt to have this exchanged for my love. At that point fondness turned to hate for her. For a second, the idea of pushing her for the guys to laugh at when she falls down crossed my head. That would teach her a lesson to feel what she had just done to me. But I controlled myself. I turned round and went to the toilet. I remained there until I heard music again. That's when I got out, paced silently heading for the exit.

Wrong number

Friday evenings are supposed to be happy nights here in the middle east. Its the beginning of a weekend. But this was not. I received an unsettling call just after taking a bath. It was by “imo,” the widely used calls application due to its clarity and cheapness. I did not recognize the caller, he had just added my number, but I answered anyway.

“Are you Mchox?” the male voice asked. “Yes I am.” I answered. Who am I speaking to? I asked. He replied “Rajab, Mwanasiti's husband.” I knew few Mwanasitis in my circle. And I definitely knew who he was talking about. I immediately understood it was not a friendly weekend call. My heart started beating faster.

Mwanasiti was a friend. She used to work here in the Gulf too. We met in a web-page group of Kenyans working abroad. After private chatting for sometime We realized we were both from Mombasa though we haven't met. She was from Likoni side while I from Ratna-square. Chances were slim that we had met before. We did not cross lines in our conversations. Just usual chats about being far from home and development plans so that we don't find ourselves trapped in foreign land for decades.

She finished her contract and returned back home. After some few weeks of silence, she returned back online a sad person. She explained to me how she used to send her salary back home to her husband to finish the house they had decided to build. She found the house two stone layers above the foundation. The husband used the money to chew Ghat/miraa everyday and weekend parties. He wasn't taking good care of their two young girls too. She was so disappointed and heartbroken considering what she went through working for Arabs.

I consoled her. Reminded her chances do not necessary knock on our door once in lifetime. There's still hope that she would get another means to uplift their life to better. So, we would chat and sometimes talk using imo. I felt pity and sometimes sent her some money through Mpesa. His husband was jobless and sometimes the girls go to sleep without having dinner.

So, today her husband decided to give me a call. He asked me what is the relationship between me and his wife? I said we are just friends. I told him we haven't even met in real life. We see each other through Facebook and other internet apps. The he asked “ how can I believe that?” I remained silent. I didn't know how to explain it to him. It was his wife, he knows her better. So if it is to trust her or not, its up to him. At my silence, he started to be more volatile. He asked me if I had a wife and if it was my habit to seduce other people's wives? I defended myself telling him that I had never seduced his wife. He should check his wife's messages and another proof is that she is still with him, not me.

A husband threatened usually does not reason optimally. He continued accusing me of setting up fire on their marriage. He said he had my picture, and if he ever sees me roaming the streets of Likoni, he will punish me severely before driving a knife to my stomach. I tried to explain to him the state of things, hoping he would realize he was wrong but he kept spewing venom profusely.

We meet different kinds of people on social media. Some are below age, and some are married. Some lie about their relationship status and some are truthful and straightforward. We befriend them, sometimes give a helping hand to con-men and con-women. Those who are in committed relationships know their status before flirting with the singles. But its okay since most mean no harm and its kept secret from their partners. Problems arise when their partners peruses your tracks and you give him or her something to doubt you on. You wonder whose responsible for the fracas? The singles roaming the net looking for fun or the committed who consciously take the step to engage another person in a questionable manner? We, the defensive singles always say we have done nothing wrong. And explain it with reason. But in the eyes of society and moral ears, we find ourselves rebuked. Another person's love is a no go zone. There are a billion other singles on Earth, ogle those.

“Mchox, you claim innocence and sound decent on the phone. Why is it that a week does not pass until you talk to my wife? Why have you sent my wife 10k? That's not little amount. What did she promise you in return, nude video chatting? You see, I have proof enough to suspect your ill intentions? He continued. I insisted there was nothing evil in the conversations I've had with Mwanasiti. As for the 10k, I thought better to help her start a small business instead of sending her money now and then when she comes crying for help.

All that time, I had replied to him with utmost respect and consideration. I didn't want to say anything to give him a reason to blame it on me on what happens to their marriage. But as the call grew longer, he grew more harsh and disrespectful. At one time he called me a cockroach which he could easily kill by stepping on me. I had changed the phone from my left ear to right, then left again. Streams of sweat trickled down as if im not the one who recently came out from the bathroom. And he continued insulting me. And at last he told me he is going to beat Mwanasiti tonight and she wont be able to sleep at all.

I wondered why he told me that because Mwanasiti does not belong to me. But I had had enough from him. I knew he was jobless and lazy but I did not say anything to him. I knew he squandered his wife's money and he is the reason why they are living miserably, but I remained silent. So, I cut short his abuses and told him, Listen: If you are tired with Mwanasiti, don't find an excuse from me. I know you mistreat her because she will find it hard to leave the marriage because of the children. But I tell you, if you leave her, Mwanasiti will not suffer. I promise you, if you divorce her tonight, tomorrow night I will send my people to her home and I will marry her in absentia. If you think I'm calling a bluff, divorce her and watch the drama tomorrow!

I hung up and blocked his number permanently on my phone. After three days Mwanasiti called. She told me that all his husband's anger was because he did not get his hand on the money. He saw the 10k Mpesa I sent but she had already withdrawn the money and bought materials for her cooking business. He wanted it to buy Ghat/miraa and cigarettes and spend it having fun. She also told me that he did beat her that night, but he did not leave her. They are still together.