THE SINGLE DILEMMA

She’s intelligent, she’s hot, she’s funny, great company, and irresistibly confident. She is You (..yes, you Brilliant unmarried-single lady, so stop looking at the image I've placed here - this is just an example of how others view YOU). But every so often she stumbles on the SINGLE question that leaves her exasperated and irritated. This question also devours her confidence, hurling her back to a horrid Level 1, The Novice - in this game called Life.

Should I or shouldn’t I …. get married?

It’s a loaded question, full of threats and hidden terrors for the modern working independent woman who’s in her 30’s or early 40’s and is wondering whether to settle down to a boring monogamous life with a man who will probably cheat on her before the 5^th Wedding Anniversary, a life that will begin with the very public expectation of her giving birth to babies who will eventually grow into terrible toddlers and watching them develop into rebellious rude teenagers who think their mom is either an ATM, an Alcoholic, a Religious fanatic, Maid AND Personal Driver.

Hello, where is the man who married her? Absent Father Syndrome. Probably with the ‘gacungwa’ or ‘nyumba ndogo’ or at the club or local or working late yet again to make some cash to buy you that brand new Toyo that looks like a Mercedes or the Range that you have your eyes on, or school fees so the kids can attend HOPAC or GreenAcres or St. Andrew’s Turi…

Life is hard, then you die.

Accolade: Wife. Mother. RIP

Should I get Married?

Remember too that Marriage is the only reason Divorce exists.

So why get married in the first place? And why does that terrible urge to commit to a single man for life repeat itself at 30, then 38, then 42? Simple. (1) Because you believe in the Once-upon-a-time story of you struggling through bitterness and heartache but finally achieving heaven on earth by finding your soul mate and living with them happily ever after: You can find this particular story online, it's called Cinderella.

(2) Because all cultures on earth view matrimony as a woman’s lot, that plus bearing and rearing children within the boundaries of marriage. To be outside that classification means that as a female you’re either unfit or inept.

(3) Because that’s the way your body is wired. To reproduce, nurture, nourish. The single main component that controls a female’s body is her Menstrual Cycle and when the alarm bells ring and dong loudly you get all those bi-polar-like mood swings every 8 years or so, your body simply reminding you that you’re making poor use of it and the game will soon be over. Or do you honestly want to give birth at 50years? Hahahaaaa!!… Come srowly and get-a-life! TIA, it’s hard at 22, why torture yourself??… but that’s another topic for another day. Let’s stick to this Single Issue…

The reasons most single’s say that they are still single is either:

        No man has as yet asked her so she’s still single (rare to admit)

       Some men have asked her, but she said NO (easier to confess)….

Now, don’t bring on all the excuses that that nigger that asked you wasn’t worth the time…. (one finger tapping at your watch as you say that..), or your job came first, or that the time back-then wasn’t right, or he wasn’t the right height,  he was moving to Alaska, he’s a farmer, his family makes the Addams Family look normal….uh uh uhh…. None of that nonsense!

The fact is that your current problem is linked to your past like a furious, growling, salivating Doberman Dog to a chain. And if that Dog is released from it’s chain it will kill you – after tearing you apart and biting huge chunks out of your life.

Remember here we’re talking about women who have lived alone - independent successful women - for more than 10 years. That’s a tough act. Pat yourself on the back, Miss Independent! Because that’s 3,650+ days  SOLO. And Nights. Teenagers and 20 – 24’s don’t suffer these questions – they haven’t yet had time to develop a strong separate identity. Unless they began to hustle at 17. But for most of us, the moment you take that job after 844 or College or University and look for an apartment or flat or diggs alone – that’s the day that that Doberman Dog, Miss Independent enters your life. And she’s a meeeaaan bad Lady. Listen, history has taught us that countries have waged civil wars and guerilla warfare is raged when particular sectors of society feel threatened by colonization or dictatorship. Miss Independent is simply throwing rocks at the very real threat of : Mrs. Marriage Dependent.

Should I get married?

HELL NO!! snarls Miss Independent, her Doberman Dog persona straining at the chains to get to Mrs. M. Dependents throat - and proceeds to growl and salivate and hurl you a long list of perfectly valid reasons why NEVER not.  And even sabotages a relationship that could have led to a loving relationship…

YOU THE READER ASKING: Nyakio, eti what? Did I read that right, are you saying that I have sabotaged myself?

ME: Yup.

And can I hear the men shouting YEESSSS!!!!! as well? They may have seen HER in you and are most likely walking around in a Hiroshima-Bomb-after-shock daze. You see, Miss Independence, hmm, well, she loves her freedom, loves her ambition, loves going where she wants to go, loves making solo decisions because they work out in the end, loves that sense of accomplishment, the satisfaction that despite being alone in a hard world, she’s taken you through yet another year without you both entering Mathare Mental Hospital or dragged you down to living in Kibs, Miss Independent loves her uncensored friendships with both males and females, loves her small habits, loves that only she knows these small habits and vices, loves her money, loves her money, loves her money, no…. that’s not a typo error  - but after 10 years of spending your money according to your WWWW & H (Who,What,Where, Why and How) -  who does this nigger think he is asking me the same WWWW&H - really, do you need someone else telling you that you can’t just buy that sofa-set because you want to?? Or criticizing you on your colour choice of paint for the sitting room wall? Or getting irritated because you bought yourself a brand new iPhone5 just because? Someone else knowing all your financial info? Or lack of thereof? So, when she – Miss Independent -  perceives a threat she sabotages it like a girl soldier in the DRC on crack-cocaine. Pull out the pin and throw that grenade and look away while it goes ‘KA-BoomB!!!’.  Walk over and coldly survey the remains.  No pain. No gain.  Miss Independent coldly shrugs off the aching agony of lonely nights, the alone-ness, the lack of own family, the fear of childlessness, the heartache of a lack of a permanent partner, the huge hole in the heart. Coldly shrugs off the fact that her latest boyfriend is walking around in a Hiroshima-Bomb-after-shock like stupor of violent rejection.

Should I, or shouldn’t I get married?

The one thing that Miss Independent really hates is Your Biological Clock.

Because it pulls lovely tricks. Like falling in Love. …

It’s a beautiful sensation falling in Love and the funky- feeling may hit you head-on like a bitch-slap or you may be lucky and fall in love slowly, lazily and gracefully. Mr. All-Right may pop  the Will-you-be-my-Wi-fi - (sorry, wifey) question and your mind may be screaming impatiently YES YES YES while your body fights the need to urgently begin to make babies that look like him - this single individual that is your soul mate and that you desire to commit to for life.

Should I, or shouldn’t I get married?

Xpensiev Out.of.the.Box Advice:

Before you sabotage yourself again: Take leave from work for a few days (in war time it’s called a Strategic Retreat) and look into your past and ask some deep penetrating questions pertaining to your sense of identity.

• Is your personality really secure or do you think you may suffer from an identity crisis that will tumble at the mention of the initials MRS in-front of your name?  It’s not easy changing your name and it may be complicated if you choose to hang on to your fathers name unless you add a hash in-between… can you mentally handle this and a host of other identity issues?

• How deep can you allow a relationship to develop? Because this same man who fell on his knees before you will see you in your very worst moods before 6 months are over. I say this because some ladies go into marriage thinking they are deep-undercover agents, and when their ‘cover’ is blown – that ‘act’ that they’ve been putting on for Mr. Boyfriend/now - Hubby, when he sees the real bride behind the veil - well, that marriage is over. Not because the man cannot handle it – I think most men can - but because the woman herself cannot handle anyone knowing her weaknesses. In a dating relationship we’re usually on our best-behaviour, can you accept being known as ‘less than perfect?’ Just how compliant are you, and can you tame that Doberman into an endearing puppy that will grow to love and accept your new lifestyle and not attack it on every level?

•Consider this: You need a vehicle. You now have the means to buy one. But it’s not just about buying it – you also have to think ahead and plan CAR MAINTENANCE. Marriage is a little bit the same - when you buy that car, unless you’re extremely wealthy, you’re stuck with it until at least 2 years are over. Whatever the issues, you take out an Insurance Cover (mandatory), fill your phone book with recommended mechanics and take note of those garages and Petrol Stations that offer wheel-balancing, car-wash and oil changes. Things you’d never thought of before.  Similarly when considering marriage, think of your own maintenance or you won’t last 6 months let alone 2 years. Get an Insurance cover in the form of someone you admire who is married and can mentor you through your first few years. Mandatory. Tell her the truth - I admire you and I’d like you to mentor me. SHE (don’t ever choose your best male friend even if you’ve been friends since Class 1, and NOT a rela either!)  may be randomly selected or come recommended like any insurance company, but take her out for lunch once a month or whatever, and TALK AND LISTEN (and PAY for the meal, even if she’s better off than you).  Don’t argue, after all, you chose her for a reason and the point here is to learn. Save your arguments for your Doberman.

• Who wants to get married, you or your relatives?

And finally:

• Think on the fact that just as in your own personal life, nothing goes as planned, so in all likelihood, your own marriage will not progress as you think it should. Can you grow? Or are you more like those who sing from the pews of PCEA and CPK churches :- “We-shall-we-shall-not-be-moved!” Rigidity is good for some areas in life (and making life, LOL!) but in other areas it may be disastrous. Read the paragraph below s.l.o.w.l.y..

“Earthquake engineering is the scientific field concerned with protecting society, the natural and the man-made environment from earthquakes by limiting the seismic risk to socio-economically acceptable levels… A properly engineered structure does not necessarily have to be extremely strong or expensive. It has to be properly designed to withstand the seismic effects while sustaining an acceptable level of damage…”

excerpt from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

In areas such as Nairobi or Dar-es-Salaam, we have no need for earthquake engineering. Likewise, we do not require a complex properly engineered structure in our single lives. But come marriage, it would bode better for the single person to concern herself with the complexity of the marriage structure and question herself as to whether she can withstand the seismic effects of marriage while sustaining an acceptable level of damage… or to put it plainly, can you be accommodating in order to make your marriage last?

The Single Decision

If at the end of the Retreat you decide you’re not yet ready to go into the marriage market, then make that Single Bed and lie on it and take Doberman Dog to the Dog Pound (please don’t give such a nasty animal to a friend!).

I have several rock-steady single GF’s who are NOT Lesbian, and I find that now that I’m not a newbie, they give me single-most best  and honest relationship advice on my marriage – more so than the married women who are so bogged down in their own troubles they can barely rise up to think about my situation, or who are so bitter they can hardly spew out a sweet word. These single GF’s of mine have other best-friends, they laugh a lot, have a deliciously wicked sense of humor, have the freedom to love their nieces and nephews and spoil them to bits, are free to travel and spend time in your home, have rich relationships with both men and women, are well-read, internet savvy, capable, witty and very, very intelligent. (ahem… birds of a feather flock together..hahahaha!)

But, Attitude with a capital A is a major component if you are to make The Single Decision a pleasurable life, a life full of adventure and promise and real relationships. Living Single is not what it used to be a decade ago when you were growing up and your mother regarded those ‘unmarried aunties’ with major suspicion and handed out negative labels like Unable To Find a Husband and Cursed Childless Barren Woman or worse, Lesbian.

Girlfriend, it is 2012 going 13 and you can develop your own unique Single Brand and sell it to yourself  and new nice doggy – (remember you’ve taken Doberman Dog to the dog pound..!!) so, sell A (+)Positive Brand that accepts that you have Made A Choice – not a (-)Negative Miss Independent that trashes marriage as a whole, No! - make the choice to declare the Single For Life Happiness Pact! Move out of your mothers-sisters-brothers-cousins-whoever you’re-sharing –house-with, be respectful and mindful of those who are married plus be a really good friend to your married GFF’s and not their husbands; you may be surprised that those are the same women who will probably run to you every other fortnight just to inform you that you’re the luckiest woman in the world – again - depending on your attitude. Throw out the Envy Card, the “I wish” or “how could it be” card and be satisfied with your new grown up choice.

So either way, make your choice, make your bed with a feather mattress and sleep on it like a baby with no worries. 

Don’t wallow in the stormy rough waves of indecision because it unsettles not only you but those around you, and in the end they will abandon you because who, given a choice, wants to drop anchor or go fishing in a turbulent stormy sea? No one.

NYAKIO MUNYINYI ©  SEPTEMBER 2012

BOWS & ARROWS

Posted here because many of you have asked me to do so: Enjoy

Do you feel life is so bad it couldn’t get worse?? Life seemingly going backwards-ever-forwards-recently-never? I do. And when I saw this poster I laughed out loud because it hit the proverbial nail on the head! I am so so that arrow! And as I laughed I wondered how did the artist compare himself with – of all things - an arrow?

…. For those of you who watch those lovely historical movies, we know that arrows are placed in a quiver, that ‘item’ that hangs on an archers back like a backpack and held there by a shoulder strap. When an arrow is required, its’ pulled out of the quiver and placed in the bow, pulled back, then released…. if the archer is good, then the arrow will hit its target spot on, if the archer is useless, then, well, it’s a matter of luck and fate on whether it will ever hit the intended objective.

In the last couple of weeks I’ve had misfortune mocking my every move like a mime- everything I touched turned into dust and black ash mpaka I reached that point where I was so discouraged I sat back and crossed my arms like a sullen child who won’t do the task set in front of him, and began a conversation with God:

Dude, what’s up?? Thought I’d done this before, huh, infact, I have! Been there, worn this t-shirt, made the cheap music video and put it on YouTube, so what am I doing here AGAIN?

Familiar? What about that powerless feeling that attaches itself to your limbs and whispers that you’re not in control of the situation and you’re helpless to stop it?

The one good thing about my misfortunes is that I don’t place my life in the hands of that hot and good-looking charming hunk called Luck, neither do I rely on Lucks’ companion - that equally beautiful but fickle Lady Fate.

Rather,  I am an arrow in the quiver of God.

Are you? If you’ve answered yes, that means that basically you’re walking around on His back going where He’s leading – kul stuff. For now let’s not get into what we’re actually doing in that quiver coz that’s a whole other story of the nonsense we sometimes get up to in this maisha, so the focus here is that we’re IN.

Game set.

…. Then God pulls us out of our comfort zone.

The arrow is pulled out of the quiver…

Some life changes are sudden shocking disasters. Maybe yours was a graceful drawback. Ama baado. BTW, get the movie UP and watch the first 15 minutes – it’s … interesting - yah, just go buy or borrow…. It’s an animation, not for kids really, but for you. I am not digressing, not at all, the story UP is a clip of human life. But getting back to being an arrow - you’re outside the comfort zone plus now your life is becomes brutally difficult. Dreams fading, reality hitting, age approaching speed limit numbers, still single, the economy rising, is that the landlord calling me AGAIN?? kids fees required, News is always nasty, health suddenly worsening, the Ex shows up, why is my fridge empty?? and on Sunday when you need an answer guess what - (sorry dude) you’ve heard that same sermon 200 times (they just switch the words and paragraphs around* join my church) ….so, you begin to talk to yourself irritably amid bouts of sullen behavior and mood swings that make people wonder if you’re off your medication..

That’s God pulling the bow back.

Show No Fear.

Feeling immensely and highly strung out is putting it mildly when I try to describe  where I sometimes am, mentally stretched to the limit of my resources and liable to snap anytime - and maybe you are too, right there on the edge of release -   that’s the ‘If I wasn’t a Believer I’d get soooo drunk right now – where is the corner drug dealer I NEED A FIX – I’m packing and leaving RIGHT NOW’ – on edge release. Deep stuff. Take a deep breath. Show No Fear. Instead of the above, RELAX.

Because if an arrow could speak, it would probably talk of a million fears of the unknown… when it’s pulled back on a highly strung bow - and of the importance of relaxing in preparation of the flight ahead and the knowledge that our dreams of a future are secure.

Because when God shoots His arrows, they usually land Right on the intended mark.

© NYAKIO MUNYINYI OKALLO SEPTEMBER 2012

Blue Hearts

There’s a relationship gap that grows ever wider between children and their parents and as it gets wider, it gets uglier and grows moles, warts and putrid open boils like those on the Troll that lives under the bridge. That’s when bewildered kids with 2 able parents are shoveled off into boarding schools like so much garbage and someone else’s responsibility, or handed over to be raised by mboches. Small wonder that our children’s mentality is sometimes akin to that of a mboch… do you really think that your house-girl or mlinzi will discuss the Stock Exchange with your child? Pah!

But anyway, how are we  - yes – you and me - supposed to know any better? I too was mboch-raised – and I have a million issues…

It’s not a surprise either that there’s a generation of thieves, murderers, liars and robbers in our streets – adults being car-jacked by 9 year old girls and Radio Presenters reporting daylight robbery committed by 7 year olds in peaceful Bagamoyo.

Bite into that blame cookie. It’s yours alright.

Mind you I’m not an entirely happy parent… murder is what I have on my mind after 2 weeks of struggling to help my son with his homework for 4 hours every evening and I’m seriously going to TWiT (read tweet) his teachers and demand a break – Mommy Should Have A Life – so please don’t tell me to meet you at the local or ask me if I’m watching whatever’s the latest on DSTV -  add my son’s homework to the task that Charles-don’t-call-me-pastor threw at his congregation - reading the entire NT by end Nov. That’s NINE CHAPTERS of Bible every evening that I have to read aloud to my child because there is no-way he’s going to read it himself.

Truthfully, my first thought after surviving the first frustrating week helping my sleepy and thusly ‘nothing-is-getting-through-his-brain’ son complete his homework was BOARDING SCHOOL! Or TUTOR! But on closer introspection I saw the Troll, moles, warts, boils and all, and I almost threw up, so I chucked that idea back under the bridge and ran into the phone booth to change into my SHero SuperMama costume. FYI, for you blondes, SHero is a female Hero.

Our children love us desperately, dreadfully and urgently.

How much deeper can I phrase that sentence? If you think you love your child, multiply that sum by itself then add a couple of zeros at the end and you still won’t get close to how much YOU are loved.

Your child’s love for you is greater than the brain knowledge that ‘that’ is my Dad or Mom.  It’s a physical need to be around you, to touch you, to receive a smile, encouragement, acceptance, to talk to you, to get you to laugh at something they said.  You men, you call the gripping physical pain when you go without sex for a few days ‘blue ball’. Well, let’s tag children who don’t receive some regular physical show of love from their parents -  Blue Hearts. And separation for kids from their parents - in any form -  equals a deep painful hurting that is compressed like, and saved as a zip file - and in adulthood when it’s released develops into an ugly, albeit well-hidden personality. Plus a generational gap.

The world is a tough place. In an imperfect world we all grasp for some small straws of love and baffled drowning children clutch at the straws of their Heros and SHeros, yet many parents disregard the grasping, close their hearts and shun their future – for what else are our children but our futures?

In my SHero costume I sacrifice ‘me’ time and sit with my son, helping him with his homework and ignoring my BFF’s Facebook chats. I disburse hugs, kisses and words of encouragement like a drug dealer at the corner store, because our schools today are full of bullies, tormenters, persecutors and harassed teachers, so when my kids come home they need an immediate ‘fix’ of SHero and Hero Love to keep Blue Hearts at bay.

Out.of.the.box

Every morning, our kids get Hero lovin’ and quality time in the form of their father driving them to school. There’s an alternative way to get to school – they could take the school bus. No, no no! We’re not arguing here so don’t start on with the I-can’t-do-that-because-of-traffic or I have-to-get-to-work or other whining excuses… I’m just giving you examples here of how you too can dispense love to your kids by sacrificing a few minutes of your time. And it’s for what, like only 10 years out of your 40? That’s not even a Pass Mark on your child’s test and yet you expect better from them! Dude!

…. Back to my kids and their father in the morning - they talk, sing, argue or discuss movies - whatever, I don’t know, ask Hubby – and he loves it – despite the fact that it means waking up in the dark and leaving the house at 5.30am. But our daughter who is 16 decided that she’s fed up of waking up at that ungodly hour and changed her morning plan – she will walk to the school bus-stop – and gain 2 hours of sleep plus morning exercise. Hubby got depressed. Seriously. He missed her vibrant presence and inane chatter in the car every morning and also saw the beginnings of the dreaded Troll. Because that’s how it starts, children grow up and begin to pull at the strings of independence and adults don’t want to release those bonds – instead demanding that they all continue doing things the same o same o. In comes ugly misunderstandings and out goes loving patience.

You and me both see them, those kids standing with frozen knees visible below shorts or skimpy skirts at bus stops with mboches waiting for the school van, their parents either zooming past them in luxurious heated cars in a rush to get to work and beat the traffic or in their warm houses (Nairobi) dressing themselves in killer clothes in preparation of that war-zone place they call “Work”. If it’s Dar it’s kids walking in the sweltering heat while the parents drive past in frigid cars or dress up in air-conditioned houses. Whatever!

Never have I seen a parent walk their child to the bus stop. Oh, wait. Mzungus do. The CEO of some big.time company standing with his sons in shorts and a faded T-shirt waiting for the bus… later you’ll find the same man in a Gucci suit as the Chair of The Board Meeting. Then we who have been raised by mboches have the audacity to wonder how come wazungu have such good relationships with their kids? I wish I had that. Honestly, if wishes were cars I’d be the one behind the wheel of that new Yellow Lamborghini in town..

Most likely you’re muttering:

Eti what? Who me? Walk out and stand there doing what? Wait for a bus? Si I have a houzi? What do I pay them for? Nyakio, get real…. Plus I got home late anyway, I neeeed my beauty sleep….

Guess what my Hubby does? He rushes child A to school, returns and walks our daughter to the bus-stop. By 7am, he’s ready to begin  work day having given both kids major Hero time. Ok fine, I’m blowing my own trumpet here but then again, look into the majority of children’s wistful eyes and tell me what you see – a desperate hunger behind the ‘I’ll reject you first before you reject me’ ATT.

Refuse to accept the norm. You’re the Adult in this situation anyway, so it’s up to you to bridge the relationship gap, it’s up to you to give your child some serious lovin’ because they get enough hatin’ from the world.

Don’t give your children Blue Hearts.

© NYAKIO MUNYINYI for The xPenSiev Report

Sept 2012