It is on a Sunday afternoon at a round 3:32 PM, I am in house lazing around, walking from room to room just to make sure everything is in place, preparing the uniforms and arranging my God Ordained Matrimonial Bedroom. My son Darren, 4 years, is on the balcony with his dad, My Beloved Husband, the man that God kept for me, enjoying the view. My daughter Delance, 7 years, is in the kitchen with our Domestic Manager Myra making some lemon pancakes and 4 ’O’clock tea. That’s what I am craving because mmmmhhh……. Oh yeah, you guessed right, I am pregnant, 3 months…. Hey, don’t give me that look, I do what made me leave my father’s house.
Tea is served.
Me: “Honey, tea is ready.”
Hubby: “Okay babe, coming…..”
Me: “Dela, get me some ginger from the kitchen please….”
Dela goes to the kitchen and brings me my favourite Tropical Heat Ginger….. Darren on his dad’s laps, driving his favourite toy car as his father sips some hot masala tea. I remember that I left my bedroom’s lights on so I walk upstairs, get in my bedroom and switch off the lights. I realize there is a phone vibrating from my coffee table (I sometimes eat from my bedroom so I have a very beautiful coffee table, a gift from my mother-in-law on our wedding day). Kuna kale kashetani kanakuambianga “Shika hiyo simu” but your mother warned you about hubby’s phone. But this Kashetani wins in most cases. I take the phone, “TRM Calling”… What? Who is this TRM? Thika Road Mall, Two Rivers Mall? Tuna Rarua Mali? ….or what? Any who, I decide to pick.
Me: (Silent on phone)
TRM: “Hello, babe mbona hushiki simu zangu tangu juzi?”
Ati Babe? Is this a wrong number? I keep my cool, but the devil in me is awake… I am Shocked! My Blood Pressure shoots…
TRM: Now you are quiet huh? I don’t like the way you are treating me Ben, it’s not fair, you promised to send money for tuition and you don’t pick calls, when you pick hauongei, I don’t like it ooh!
Shaking, sweating, almost bursting in flames, I hang up, sit on my bed, tears rolling down my cheeks, wondering what was happening to me. So many things going through my mind, but I have to stay sober. Every woman knows that once you see this kinda red light, you need more evidence, and they will agree with me that we go though messages, whatsapp, Facebook, LinkedIn, Instagram etc.. This needs not more than 5 minutes, that’s if you are a real African woman. You know what I mean? Anyway, I get the evidence from whatsapp chats, but men really need that conference happening on February 14. I mean, how do you keep messages of how you had a good time in her bed? Ouch!
The thought of another woman being grinded the way I am grinded by the same bull breaks me, completely! My Man is My Man, he can’t be holding another woman. I am hurt!
Anyway, I am through, of-cause I get the number saved on my phone then I delete it from the received call-log on his phone.
Dela comes in my bedroom…
Dela: “Mommy, Daddy says you should come down.”
Me: “Which Daddy?”
Dela: (Shocked) “Moooom!”
Me: “Uh! Sorry baby, I am right behind you.”
Hubby: “Honey your tea is getting cold, are you okay?”
In my mind I am asking myself “Is this the man I married? Is he just asking if I am okay? How am I supposed to be okay when TRM is in the picture? Is this man for real?”
Me: “I am fine. I lost my appetite. Tea? No thank you. Myra get me some ice cream from the freezer.”
My DM brings ice cream, of course Darren must enjoy it with me. I hold my son, he happens to be his father’s exact replica, I look straight into his eyes and say “Mahn! You have failed me today”. My son looks at me in shock and says “Me?, Mommy I just want a little ice cream, I don’t want too much because I will get sick”. I remember I was directing my anger to a small version Ben. “I am sorry baby, I was day dreaming, did you finish your homework? Tomorrow is school day” “I did, Daddy helped me with colouring.” “Oh, okay, I see, perfect! You have a good Father”…. by this time Hubby is looking at me, I guess he knows me so much, 8 years of being married, he knows when something is not right.
Hubby: “Honey we need to talk, in our bedroom, please.”
“In the bedroom please, Myra, come pick the kids and take them out, find something to do, ride bikes or whatever…”
“What did you just call me?”
“Isn’t that your name”
“Let’s not do this babe, what’s wrong?”
“I know you honey, 10 years of knowing you, you are not okay, would you please talk”
“I said I am fine”
“Look, we need to solve this right now or else…”
“Or else what???”
“Ooh please, jut leave me alone.”
I walk away from my husband, something I have not done for years, straight in my bedroom as he follows me.
Tears starts dropping, I can’t hold it any more, he hugs me and apologizes for whatever he had done to hurt me, he knows my weakness, his masculine hands works magic on me, I am almost calming down but I am totally confused. He kisses me on my neck as he whispers sweet nothings, again I am weak, he says how I am his whole world, how the kids and me are all he has and he is not ready to watch his family break. Women, you can feel me, right? I am almost responding with kisses, I am weak, this fool knows my weakness and he is taking advantage, but my mind bounces back…..
“Don’t touch me Ben, don’t you ever, eeevvveeerrr touch me again”
“Don’t call me that shit, I need to take a nap, I am tired, now, you either walk your sorry ass out of my bedroom or I do”
“I am not going anywhere”
“Ooh Yeah….. okay…… fine….. I will”
“Oookay okay okay okay fine, I will leave, but…”
“But nothing, just leave”
Mr. Man picks his car keys and his damn-ugly phone and leaves, I lock the door from inside. I am shattered, what is happening to my marriage? Is this the man that I married through a church wedding? So it’s true, Marriage is a big scam? What about my children, will they be affected by this? Ooh God I don’t want my children to grow up without their father, Dela is her daddy’s girl, she is so connected to her father. Again I am pregnant! Ben is a great father, but what about me, his wife? I am confused. I am scared, really scared. But he cheated on me? Why? What had I not done for him? I had played my wifely duties, I had given him adorable kids, I had watched him transform from a hustler to who he is right now. Is it my fault? Just what does “TRM” have that I don’t? A nice figure? But I am like this because I bore him children, and another one is on the way….. Oh God I need to fix this, but I have to teach him a lesson, bure atanizoea.
As usual I have to inform the Kamati. But no, I am not going to call my mentor Norich Shitubi, I know what she will say “Ma’am please be calm, pray, pray, pray and make him want you more that he needs her, make your home comfortable for him bla bla bla” Oooh no, I am not going to pray for anyone’s son, I have my own children to pray for. Kila mtu aombewe na mama yake.
Can I call Martha, this one is crazy, she will ask me to go out and have a drink, I am pregnant for Christ’s sake. No I won’t call her.
I call my mum,
“Poa sana, habari ya wajukuu na mzee”
“Wako poa, nataka kukuambia kitu”
“Kuna shida? Niambie Mum”
“Mum Ben is cheating on me”
“What? How did you know?”
“Really Mum? I just found out”
I don’t want to tell her that I went through his phone because she had warned me.
“How did you find out your husband was having an affair?”
“She called him and I picked”
“You see, you were looking for trouble, and you found trouble”
“Hata hunisaidii Mami, will call you later, bye”
I hang up.
What should I do now? Should I call this b*ich and let her know that I know about her escapades with the father of my children? Hell No. That will be lowering myself to her level. Because I have saved her number as “Makodofia”, probably I could see her whatsapp photo, just to see who my husband is screwing. I go straight to whatsapp, she has a kid as a profile picture. From far I can see what I thought I will never see in my life. I guess I need spectacles and a glass of wine. I walk to the bar, no wine. I open the bedroom door, go straight to the kitchen, take my Baileys Irish Cream and go back to my bedroom. Put my glasses on, I put up some music, I select “Rolling in the deep” by Adele, a song for the broken hearts.
The scars of your love remind me of us
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all
The scars of your love they leave me breathless, I can’t help feeling
We could have had it all (you’re gonna wish you never had met me)
Rolling in the deep (tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep)
You had my heart inside of your hand (you’re gonna wish you never had met me)
And you played it to the beat (tears…
I then go straight to TRM’s whatsapp profile photo.
I zoom in the image, I see a boy who kinda looks like my own son. These idiots have a son together? Damn you Ben, damn you Makodofia.
I sip my Baileys but this time round it tastes like urine. But still I gulp the whole bottle, to the last drop!
I am doomed!!