Hard Knock Life

Being single at my age is difficult.

It's difficult for obvious reasons such as having no one to go home to, do couply things with or just open the damn jar (I swear I had a jar of something or other that almost expired as I couldn't get it open!).

But it's also difficult because people start to look at you as an 'almost failure'. Why do you not have that priced accessory on your arm called 'homme' for women? It's almost like they're telling you that if you'd spent a little less time in class and a little more in the salon, you wouldn't be where you are now!

You are chastised for
a) Having an opinion,
b) and a job,
c) with male juniors,
d) that you drive to

Oh and these strange men that dart you while married with 3 children just don't understand why you reject their advances. They probably see it as doing their bit to help out in society ... Community servicing ...

So perhaps what we should be telling our little nieces is that hard work is for men .. you just doll yourself up!

I Don't Like Weddings

I don't like weddings.

I used to think that that was because I'm single and that it was the green eye'd monster that made me tire of them so, but I don't think so anymore. The events are just so mind numbingly boring and tireing! You take 8 months and wagon loads of cash to prepare for a 1-day event that even you don't enjoy. Pray tell, why?

Never having been a bride, I've been on a couple of line ups and its just not worth it. Please don't feel inclined to put me on your line up. Beleive me, I won't be offended! You're forced to spend so much energy, time and money on things like dresses, earings and rehersals and all for what? So that on the D-day your up at an un-Godly hour after having spent the night in the brides cramped up bedroom at her mom's house with 3/4 of her relatives? You get into the dress that cost you an arm, a leg and 2 fingers, yet you will only ever wear it once (because it's hedious and it just screams 'line-up'). You help unknown kids into outfits and wait patiently in line for your turn before the makeup 'artist' (who may leave you looking like a christmas tree). When this part is done, you endure the bride's family's shananigans while they try to bleed out what last cent they can when the groom's representatives come for her.

Depending on where it is that the bride is from, it may be a looooooong journey across town to the church, where you arrive invariably late to the irritation of the pastor/priest. The Church isn't half full as Kenyans being Kenyans have perfected the art of arriving at the Church when the service is about to end so they get directions to the reception. You go through the whole ceremony, praying that your tummy doesn't groan and betray to the gathering the fact that you're starving (you had to feed 5 kids you don't know afterwhich there was no time for you to eat).

When the church part is through, (even after the interminable pictures), you are amongst the 'lucky' few who's picture get's to be taken with the couple of the day. Depending on the level of the committee's foresight, you may again be shuttled across Nairobi to get to a picturesque location near Voi. With any luck you'll get a biting there before fighting Saturday traffic (everyone get's married on Sato) to get to the reception. At the reception, your expected to dance like one of the Sakata crew while joined by the (well fed) crowd and some dude/band specifically hired for the day (forget that they can't sing wihtout the aid of a pre-recorded CD).

It's only after all this that you finally get to settle to your first cold meal of the day. Here I don't mention the interminable speeches from relatives who think that the call to keep their speech to a maximum of 5 minutes was just a really good joke by the MC, the long wait for all to go, the arrangements on how the gifts will get to their destination, the quick rush to shower and change before the evening party/dinner and the evening party/dinner.

Before you drag anyone through all this, make sure it's actually going to be 'till death do you part' ... coz I can kill you if you choose to break up!

Article on Desperation

Shiko has randomly reminded me of this article by Xege Harun from last weekends Saturday Magazine (Daily Nation). I pull out the relevant extract below:


Desperation
Women peak at between 21 and 25 years. After that, it’s injury time physically and emotionally as far as romance is concerned. This is the window that make or break women’s entire lives. Rather than making hay while the sun shines, women in this age bracket ran around like headless chicken; walking in and out of relationships at will.

After 28, suitors disappear and the girl enters the next phase of her life. In this phase, she feels ready to settle down but the allure of youth that brought countless men her way is already fading. As she becomes desperate, she starts sending out signals to men that she is available. But these are the same men she had previously shunned and by now probably are already committed somewhere else.

But they will still come calling and because she is now eager to please, she will be used and then dumped in favour of those who gave these same men time and space when it mattered. After 30 years, fear sinks in and with pressure coming from family and friends to settle down, the standards are lowered even further.

She starts casting an eye on married men and eventually resigns to being merely ‘the other woman’. This turn of events can be avoided by being careful when you are at your peak. When this desperation phase comes, stay straight and well-mannered and conduct yourself with self importance. Some quality guy may still find you.

*sigh*

It's strange how society considers that the greatest concern for single women my age is their quest for a man. I'm honestly more concerned with my financial status and how to get my life on check. If a man whom I consider suitable comes along the way, great. But till then, I'm not consulting sorcerers or astrologers in a bid to find him.

A 3-Year Plan?

I find that I’ve become one of the boys which is an interesting vintage point to view the world from. I don’t suppose it greatly helps my (apparently half-hearted) quest for Mr. Right, but it’s a price I pay happily. Being surrounded by 5 jamaas at a bar doesn’t really count as one of the attributes of ‘wife material’ I think, but I could always check.

Seating with the boys makes me think that whoever authored the Mars & Venus thing was really on to something. The topic of conversation on this day was my single status. The married to single ratio of this group of boys was about 50:50. One earnestly tells me that I will never get married because I am too intelligent. 

“Excuse me?” I ask surprised. 

“Well you see,” he explains taking a sip of his beer, “No man wants to come home to a woman he can’t wow with his knowledge of current affairs, or the happenings in foreign countries. What’s the fun in going home and in a moment of brilliance quipping that you hope that the milk in the tea doesn’t have melamine like that in China, only to be told that in China it was baby formula made by such and such corporation.”

“They were the Sanlu Group and I think it was milk powder,” I say unthinkingly. 

“I rest my case,” he responds with a smile as the rest of the boys break out in laughter.

“No. She’ll get a man, so long as she hurries it up before her sell-by date,” another says, while adding to me, “which is quick approaching, no?”

“Is that menopause?” I ask and immediately notice the collective albeit discrete cringe.

“Nooo. It’s just that guys will begin to wonder what’s wrong with you if by a certain age you’re still single and bila kids,” he explains.

“Oh? How long do I have?” I ask.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t push it beyond 3 years …” is the answer. I guess that the virtues of alcohol is that it numbs the effect of such comments on the offset but these are issues that will certainly keep me up later in the week.

The conversation goes on and on and I’ll share snippets of it later. Age is understandable; senior bachelors will always be more attractive than any bachelorette but, hey! That’s just society. But that the challenge of a woman who knows what’s going on beyond her front door would be too much to bear is just odd! Next time I go out I’ll introduce myself as a tea girl and upon being told that the Berlin Wall came down I’ll  flutter my eyelashes and ask “What’s that?”

Have a simple day.

The Impending Valentine's Day Threat

 I’ve come to the conclusion that things are thick. Wa! I was staring out of the window at some far off trees and they formed in my mind the image of couples cuddling and kissing!

I blame it on the New Year and the looming Valentine’s day threat. Single women everywhere hate Valentine’s day. It’s the day they’re brought to account on how balanced their lives are (or aren’t) and the rawest form of their insecurities are laid bare for all to see. It doesn’t matter what you do (even if you run an orphanage and have single handedly saved hundreds of little Annie’s), how old you are or how cute you may be. The question is “why are you not in a relationship?” with an undertone of “what is wrong with you?”.

Many a woman braves the day putting on a strong face and casually throwing out “It’s been so materialized!” or “For me it’s a day I spend with my Mother as I really love her…”  Deep down there’s the hope that someone somewhere will remember you. A card, chocolate, flowers? On that day, it could even be Creepy Dave from the news stand. Anything is better than nothing.

Last year I spent Vals at a bar with a bevy of pals chatting the afternoon away and having a swell time. Needless to say we’d probably all have preferred to be elsewhere (and more so the females) but at least it was something to do. This year it falls on a Monday so at least there’s work to take up a greater part of the day. After that, it’s not a bad idea to slink off home and wait for the day to be over.

Marital Disengagement?

I recently noticed a disengagement with my work. I love my career but just feel that there must be more to it than this. I guess I feel under utilized and just need a greater challenge. I’d given myself a time frame to be in my present employ so I will just have to stick it out until then, unless it gets unbearable.

With thoughts like this running through my head, I have to wonder if the same happens in married life. Do you one day look at your spouse and wonder what the Dicken’s you were thinking when you promised a ‘forever’ to that oaf? Do you look longingly at your single friends as they tell you tales of fun nights out and ask God to turn back the hands of time? Do you think of broaching the subject of the taboo ‘break’?

My guess is that it’s a human condition to want change. One must just realize that there are some things you just don't want to change. I remember the countless hours spent as a middle child in a family of 4 wondering why I wasn’t just born a single child, annoyed for the umpteenth time by one sibling or other. The very next day I would be basking in the open love of a child singing praises to said sibling who had since redeemed themselves by doing something that now ranked them next to God in my esteem. I am fickle like that and guess many are too.

So look at your man this weekend as he stretches on the couch having skipped a shower and scratching his unmentionables and remember that it was for better or worse and the better may not be that far off.

The Evil That Women Do

My ilk is a vilified lot. We’re the evil ones intent on stealing men away. At the bridal showers I’ve gone to, I’ve noticed repeated emphasis on the bride’s need to distance herself from the single lady friends that she is leaving behind? Why? Coz apparently we are the very spawn of the devil waiting on the sidelines to steal husbands away! You might think it strange or odd but it’s very true. I’ve lost a quite number of friends through marriage (what, after sleepless nights planning their big day and running around to get the right shade of turquoise earrings as the crazy woman will have nothing less for her line up!). I don’t hold it against them and wish them the very best (selfish little twits!)

If society and old wives were to be believed, women like me spend their waking hours pondering on how best to seduce husbands away. I would be more indignant on this except that it’s unfortunately true. How many stories have I heard of grooms sleeping with best maids both before and after the wedding? How many times have harmless friendships between man and friend turned into crazy romances. Heck, my friends fiancé was stolen from under her feet by her pal who got pregnant and was married by said fiancé. We are indeed our own worst enemies.

But the plot thickens. I’ve noticed that when my male pals get into relationships, they don’t introduce me to the woman of choice. You know I’m not interested in you so why not introduce me so I can be happy for you. I was surprised to find that they actually go out of their way to hide the very fact that they are in a relationship. That I find very odd behaviour. Well I did until my pal was dumped by his obviously insecure new-chick after an introduction to a female friend. New-chick told him that there was no way that they were just friends and she couldn’t stand the thought of his hanging out with the woman … (little twit). They did get back together and are (supposedly by mistake) expecting a child. The visits to homes will come soon but the law has been set and is reinforced by landmines.

Having looked at both sides of the coin, we must agree that not all women are the same. There’s a clique of guys I drink with who are all married. They know they’ll never get anywhere with me (having tried and listened to me go on and on about the importance of marriage only stopping short of whipping out a bible) so they have no qualms bringing their ‘fungees’ to the table (mortise is to tenon as funga is to fungee). The lasses are invariably young with sparkling eyes that belie their great expectations in life. They make good conversation and are affectionate to said men. My conscious is clear as I don’t know their wives (and even if I did, my loyalty lies with the men since they were my pals first) and not being their pastor, I don’t need to be the voice of reason.

I guess in short, what I’m trying to say is that you can’t ever be too careful about your man. This idea of ‘lending’ your man out to help out your pal (as a strange girlfriend of mine does (and no, not to me)) is simply dumb. Your pal will get sorted in ways you’ve only read of in sordid erotica books. On the other hand, if he’s head bent on straying, he will. And finally, there are women out there like yours truly who’s looking for her own man and not the left overs from your dinner table.