THE FEARED GHOST OF FOURTY

They say life begins at forty. Okay, it’s not as if I am not among those who say so, but why confess around that ‘saying’ yet I’m not even half that age? Or am I? (Hehe). But, since our fathers have been there, I believe they know what they are saying. Not unless we don’t trust generation X. But I do. Let’s do some math and see what they mean. Probably for those willing to live average lives-(By average lives I mean living in the manner our creator ordained from the beginning though in this modern world: Birth, school, start working, marry, kids, continue working then exit from the face of the world. Get it?) ; That’s the format they generally applied. So to say, they grew up knowing anything not adding up to that, is a life of vanity.
Start primary school at about 6years old. By the time one is through with the 8-4-4 system (without rewinding anywhere in between) the age clock strikes 22. Its safe then to say by 25-26, education is over and now it’s time to earn.
But not so fast mjango! ‘Life is becoming too cold manzeh. IIIsh!’ That’s when one’s eyes become so vigilant, you could even see well at night as if it is daytime; in order to scan out the fairest of them all. You reduce drinking; (that’s if you had started falling in love with the bottle when you realize you won’t get married to it.) Damn, I should not have mentioned so fast that I’m talking about marriage. Whatever.. You stop kidding around with relationships and increase church attendance. When saints go for prayers, you are there, fully present.
If you’re a man, you remember mama telling you that God is the giver of a good wife. The Proverbs31 type know? You remember pops’ wise words that, “There is no room for mistakes in choosing a wife. You need wisdom my son.” You are tempted to ask him whether when he was marrying your mum he applied the wisdom he is talking about or he made a mistake that he doesn’t want you to repeat. You decide to be wiser and instead ask “How will I know pops that I didn’t make a mistake in choosing a wife?” As not expected, your pops laughs in chains until he has to sit upright. In the middle of his old fashioned, learned laughter, he blurts out “You won’t know…” In your head you announce that you don’t like where this is headed. You bow your head down almost contemplating on whether to get a wife anyway. “You won’t know you made a mistake mpaka ufike foutry!”
His laughter slows down. That hits you so hard till a soft vicious voice slithers through your mind suggesting, “Now is a good time to cry.” And away it goes with an evil laughter. You want to shout, “Saitan! Achana na mimi! … This is not real.” “This is real son. This is real.” Your pops says from nowhere as if he was psychic; able to read your mind.
Ouw well. You get married anyway, whether she is the right one or not. Kesi baadae (You know that millennial attitude.) For all you care, you will be honoring His assigned responsibility to you to multiply and fill the earth. Aye? By 34, you’ve got two off springs or say, by 37, you’ve managed three. “Any other past that will be a burden. Over budget. Stress!” Your intuition tells you that.
Nonetheless, you have a good family, a good job, doing your responsibility as father… Then! Like the climax of an action movie, the long awaited time approaches unceremoniously. ‘Stero ako kwa ngori!’ No, you were not waiting for it. Rephrase: The long FEARED time approaches unceremoniously. Yea. That sounds spooky enough now. The following day? You will be turning FOURTY! You wish you could do something about it, but you can’t. Wish it away? Blow it away? Run? Hide? Pray?
“Aah what the hell there is nothing I can do!”
You shout at your image in the bathroom mirror.
“Honey, my mjango, are you okay in there? Talking to yourself again?”
That’s the voice of the one you suppose, you used 7dimensional wisdom to take as a wife mjango; as prescribed by the doctors of life. Sometimes you want to hear it, sometimes you don’t.
You especially don’t want to hear it when you had to work till late sometimes even on Saturday; the day set aside for family. Your firstborn daughter is in her initial teen stages. She doesn’t like you as such because it seems you don’t have time for her like you used to. Mama watoto blames her wrecked behavior being in its root stage; on you.
That night, sleep desserts you, I mean what do you expect? The ghost of forty is set to arrive at 12.01am. He can never be late. “Is there anything to celebrate?” The rhetoric bounces up and about in your head as all those mentioned and unmentioned events transpired in your life chain through your mind welcoming your fortieth year?
And so while you’re there in your master bed, lying face up, mama watoto on the other side of the bed; minding her own dreams while you drowning in memory; virtually playing a film of how life has been in the last forty years. Some make you smile and giggle while others make you shiver and regret. Especially when the memory tape reached the high school and campus part. Boy oh boy, you really did some stupid and many many bad things mjango. The tape finally gets to when you married ‘the love of your life’. (Maybe I put that in quotes since being a considerate author, I have to sympathize with those who didn’t and won’t get the chance to seal the ties with their Cinderella, know? Things happen haiyaa.) You drop a tear that rolls through your ear to the pillow under your head. So vividly, you commemorate your wedding day, when she said “I do” very confidently. But first, when it was yours to decree “I do”, your eyes quickly sneaked to look at your pops lest you be arrested by looks of suspicion from the audience and most significantly, the one you will be living with till death do you part. Your pops’ face looked like saying, “Son, remember what I told you.” So anyway, you convinced yourself “If he made it, I can make it too.” You said, “I do”.
Suddenly, in that stupefying state, the mother of all mishaps and ironies happens. The one lying next to you in bed, deeply dead in slumber; snores for a moment, turns, kicks you so hard, turns again and pulls the duvet towards her side leaving you uncovered. THAT’S IT! You were this close to throwing a tantrum when an old voice attacks your conscience,
“You won’t know you made a mistake mpaka ufike FOURTY!”
The Ghost of forty just landed in style! Damn!
In that state of recovery and disbelief, breathing rather heavily, as you squeeze your head, you whisper in the dark,
“Mjango! DID I MAKE A MISTAKE?”…..
No Mjango! You didn’t make a mistake to log on to my new blog website. Thank you for taking time to read this piece. It is my hope that you are thrilled already.
If you are, like and/or leave a comment then click on the same link every Monday to read a new edition of the Mjango Series.
Keep it Mjango Series,
Where The Random Thoughts Of Life Are Penned Down To Reality.