LOVE MADE IN HELL

LOVE MADE IN HELL

I had decided to surprise her. I knew she was suffering everyday while cooking her meals in that single cube she had rented in Muchatha shopping center. For those who know, using kerosene stove to cook your meals is one hell of a job especially if you are an ugali lover like yours truly. It was end month and therefore, I was loaded. I went to a gas dealer at Kamukunji market and bought a cylinder and a cooker for her. I boarded the mat at Koja Round About and once it was full, we embarked on our journey. I could not wait to see her face when she sees the cylinder. I alighted at the shopping center and took a motorbike.

I knocked her door. She was not expecting me so she was not in her usual lingerie that used to 'awaken the demon'. She was happy to see me and the gift I had brought her.
She did not have a seat so I went to sit on her bed and unfortunately, i sat on the sheet that separated her ''sitting room'' from the ''bedroom'' . The sheet came down. I stood up to fix it but before I did it, my woman gave me a slap on my face. It caught me by surprise. I sat down to nurse my then burning face.

''How dare you remove that curtain?'' thundered Wanjera.
''I am sorry, it was not intentional.'' I murmured while anger was burning in my intestines.
I had promised myself that I was never going to physically attack any descendant of biblical Sara and I was determined to keep it that way.

''Sorry my stinking armpits!'' It was difficult to be sorry to her. That was just the beginning of my tumultuous journey into the canyon of pain, suffering and bitterness. She never said thank you for the little gift I had bought for her.
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I had met Wanjira years back while still in campus. She did not like me then but after we were done with schooling, she found me on social media and we hit it. She was a cool girl. She was the type of a woman any man would wish to take to his mother. I thought I was lucky. I think I was until she started having irreducible minimums with my life.

One night she dropped into my bedsitter cubicle unannounced and started searching all over while throwing tantrums. It was late in the night and I was preparing to rest for the day. After she was done with her unwarranted search, she came to where I was standing watching her.

''I am looking for whores which you bring here while I am away,'' she announced. I had a long day at work and I wanted to sleep. The last thing I wanted was a confrontation with Wanjera. I therefore brushed it off and went to bed. 

''I am talking to you fool. Where are they?'' she hissed at me. 

''Under the bed sweetheart.'' I calmly told her. The slap I got from her sent chills down my spine. It made my head spin like the turbines of an electricity producing dynamo. I stood up but she was fast. She darted for my kitchen knife and faced me.

‘’Just you dare move towards me! I will chop of that little piece of chalk you carry between your ugly legs!’’ Wanjira was now fuming. I was helpless. I picked the sofa cushion just in case she charged at me. I was right. She did. I was anticipating that and therefore, I put the cushion on the way of the knife and it tore across it and into the bicep of my left arm. I held the hand that was holding the knife with my right hand and took away the knife with my bleeding arm. I used a lot of energy to get away the knife and hence, I bruised her hands.

‘’Kill me you maggot,’’ she was now shouting, ‘’No man will ever treat me the way my mother was treated by my father. I will kill you tonight!’’

‘’What have I done? Calm down,’’ I said while trying to control bleeding on my arm. 

‘’Calm down my foot! I will not allow you to bring any whore in this house!’’ At this point, I was almost slapping her. I had given her no reason as to why she should suspect that I was cheating on her. She had access to my house any time of the day and also had full access to my mobile phone. I had put her in all my plans for the present and the future. 

The neighbours had heard our commotion and they came. One of them, a certain pervert we used to call Kababa, saw my hand and gave me first aid. He then took me to the dispensary where my wound was dressed. We left Wanjera screaming at the top of her voice that I should not go back to that house because she would chop off my tiny manhood. Actually, I overheard her saying that it is tinier than a filter of the cigarette.

That night I slept at Kababa’s cubicle. He had brought a woman there and I ‘’slept’’ on the sofa. How do you get real sleep while you know that your ‘’village’’ will be chopped off the following day and your neighbour is using his next to you and the woman would not take it silently? I woke up early and went to my door. To my dismay, the door was unlocked and there was no one inside. I checked all corners just to ensure that I was safe for the moment. I rushed to the door then locked it from inside and started to cogitate about the next course of action. I sent a text message to my boss and told him that I would be late for work then laid on bed facing the ceiling.

One hour passed and I had a knock on the door. I peeped through the window and saw Wanjera with two gigantic fellows one of whom had blood shot eyes. They looked drunk. I knew instantly that she had brought them to pulverize me into pulp by finishing what she had started. I had heard stories of women who hired men to beat up their boyfriends or husbands. They knocked again.

I played innocent. ‘’Who are you and what do you want?’’ I inquired.

‘’We are police officers. You are under arrest for assault,’’ one of the burly fellows said. I opened the door to meet my fate. Wanjira was smiling at me with those disarming teeth showing the gap between her teeth. I knew my goose was cooked.

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I was accused of something close to attempted murder. When I was taken to court the following day, my charge sheet read like a thriller. The story had changed that I was the one who wanted to stab her and ended up bruising her hands instead. I had another crime. Attempted rape. It was laughable but serious. I looked back and didn't know why she was treating me like this.

There was a time I was broke and she had demanded to see me. I had to look for money since in her house you would never go empty handed. This is despite the fact that she never even came with a packet of milk while visiting me. When she send me a message while at work one Friday telling me to go to her house lest she gave out my honey pot to her ex-boyfriend. I could not imagine filthy hands next to my Wanjera. I left work early that day to go and find a way in which i would facilitate my voyage to her humble hacienda. I tried to call my debtors but I hit the wall there. I went to a friend who was an electronic repairer and sold my DVD Player to him. I do not know how he discovered I was desperate for cash because he told me to take two thousands shillings or go back with my DVD. I had no more hope. I had to go to see my woman.

That and many other instances went through my mind as my charge sheet was read and i made a conclusion that if that woman would not kill me, ulcers or hypertension will. I made a decision that when all this is over, i would call it quits. I was bonded from the police custody by the court and I went to my house.

One week later, Wanjera through her sister called me asking if we can finish the whole mess out of court. I agreed and paid her ''damages'' and we officially ''divorced''

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When Wanjera left my life, it was both a relief and pain. Relief because I was done with drama and pain because I knew I loved her deep. I remember there was a time I had no cash and had to walk from Kahawa Sukari where I had shifted to all the way to Nairobi Arboretum to meet her. With me, I had Ksh 70 which I bought her yoghurt and a cheap single rose flower we found at the gate. That would not be enough today, would it? The drama began when I could not explain why I could not give her fare back to Umoja Estate. Thirty shillings. She knew I was not working but she insisted I must have the cash whether she had it or not. When she threw the single flower to me, picked her handbag and swung her buttocks off, it was clearly embedded in my subconscious that I was dealing with a dangerous animal.

All that drama was in my past. I had gone through a kind of therapy and Wanjera was no longer an issue to my life. I was happy. I had a job, a bigger house, great friends and many things that matter in life. My life was on the right direction according to me. Days turned into months and two years later, I got a call. I was driving along the highway and therefore could not pick the call. It is always my habit that I don’t pick calls while driving or eating. I return the calls later. When I reached the house, I called back that number and to my horror, the voice on the other end was way too familiar. I could not believe I was hearing it again.

‘’I am sorry to disturb you but I need your help.’’
What kind of trouble was she in?

 ‘’I am listening’’

She told me that she was in Malaba. She had been locked out by the landlord and she had nowhere to go or what to eat. I thought very first and decided to help. I had no cash with me but I was hosting my younger brother so I asked him to give me Ksh 2000 which I promptly sent to her and told her to catch the next bus to Nairobi.

When she arrived the next day, I could not believe what I saw. She had thinned, her skin had started peeling off and she was pale. The beautiful eyes that once sat on her face were now a shadow of former self. She was also heavy with a baby. I did not ask her anything. I made her rest then left for work. It was not easy to concentrate on my work that day. When I arrived back to the house that evening, I found her still sleeping. I woke her up, made some fruit salad for her and made supper. As I washed dishes in the sink after supper, I asked her what happened to her.

‘’I really don’t know what came over me. I frustrated you so that you can dump me. When that didn’t take place, I decided to push you to the wall. At that time I had another boyfriend who had everything I wanted. He promised to marry me only if I would go to live with him to Malaba. I quit my job and went to stay with him. When I told him that I was pregnant, he disappeared in thin air. His phone never went through. He never came for his things. I went to his place of work and was told that he had requested to be transferred to Trans Mara to be close to his wife and child. I was stranded. I knew no one there. I was doing menial jobs to fend for myself. There was no rent any more. I couldn’t call home because when I left home my mother and my brothers disowned me. When I reached the end, I remembered you. ‘’ she said with sobs.

The following day I took her to hospital and bought all the food stuffs she required to regain her best self. I started taking her to clinics and when the time to give birth came, I was there. My brother had since gone back to stay in the hostels in college. It was a beautiful baby girl. We called her Bahati. At this time, I was so much in love again but I did not tell her. I kept it to myself hoping that it would go. I told myself that I was helping someone get back to her feet and that was all.

She couldn’t still go to her people. She therefore continued to stay at my place. At this time, I realized that I was very much attached to the little Bahati and could not let her go anywhere. I wanted to her too. After a few months, I took her out for dinner and proposed. I was in love again

I realized that i was very much attached to the little Bahati

It was not easy to convince myself that Wanjera will not pull out on me again. It was a risk. The risk people make when they think they were in love. I also banked on the fact that when she was in deep crap, I was there for her and therefore thought she had learnt her lesson. It was worth trying it again. I took Wanjera to my parents back in the village and she was an instant hit. A very beautiful girl who could cook using firewood? You know nowadays the women men are putting themselves to, are a different breed altogether. They smoke anything but can’t cook in a smoky kitchen. They all liked her. For once, I knew Wanjera was going to be a good mother and wife. My coastline was clear. I felt rejuvenated. I had captured my future. How many people are lucky out there to marry their first loves? I was walking in the air. Actually, I was gliding in the air.

The wedding was posh. I wanted to give her the best so I put a lot of efforts and resources which included reconciling her with her family. It was very difficult especially with her brothers. When we were able to appease her mother and her uncles, the road was clear for us. The wedding went on as planned. After the honeymoon, we started looking for a job for her. It was not easy. She attended several interviews but all turned into a mirage. I gave up on them.

At that time, my brother had already finished his schooling and was running an electronic shop in town. He had recently gotten a job in Mandera and was looking to sell the shop. I bought it. Finally Wanjera was doing something. I let her make all the decisions pertaining the shop and the money that came from it. At first, it was a small shop but as time went by, it became bigger and bigger. She got connections on how to import her own merchandise. I was happy for her. Every evening she would narrate to me how she was doing well and how rich we would be. It was always funny listening to her. Bahati my girl was very charming. Her first words were ‘’Papi’’. I was elated. She grew very fast and the pressure to take her to school was overwhelming.

‘’Papi, me want school’’

‘’Come on Princess, you are still my baby. I don’t want to share you with teachers and your friends.’’

‘’Papi please!’’

‘’You have no choice. Take your princess to school.’’ Wanjera said while laughing. They had won. The following week I took her to a nearby school. It was in the middle of the term but they accepted her after a heavy bribe.

Time passed. I wanted us to have another baby. Wanjera was not ready yet. I played along since I couldn’t have a baby on my own.

Wanjera was now getting more money than I was getting. It did not bother me at all. All I wanted was to see her happy. I was only concerned when she started arriving home late. Sometimes she would not come home until wee hours of the morning with a little excuse that she was out with her girls. She started neglecting me and the baby. When at home with us, she would spend most of her time on the phone chatting with her friends. Most weekends she would leave us alone. We would go out with the little Bahati and have fun. We would go all the way to Nyeri to see her maternal grandmother sometimes and it was during one of these visits that we arrived at our place and got the shock of our lives. My house was empty except for my clothes, Bahati’s clothes and her playthings. On addition, there was a note.

F,
You are a good father. I give you Bahati. You are too reserved and too MAN. I need a life. Sorry about the little things I have taken. I know you can replace in one hour. Do not bother to look for me. I am done with both of you. Bahati reminds me of my cursed life. You can have her. Thank you for all the good things and moments.
W.

I don’t want to continue with this story any more despite the fact that I have left so much unsaid. It is seven years since these events took place. It is in the middle of the night. Bahati is in her room sleeping. She got tired of asking when her mummy would be back. From far, I can hear the sound of occasional vehicles on the road. I walk to the balcony. I look at the stars. They are in millions. Like my past dreams. I hear footsteps behind me. I don’t turn. I know them too well. Then a hand on my shoulder.

‘’Papi, it is your time to sleep,’’ she says sweetly.