So yesterday was Mother’s Day. From what I can tell, everyone was elated about it. Unless I got all wrong, some were so elated they probably thought it’s like Christmas or Jamhuri Day where you can wish everyone a happy mama’s day. Because even I was wished a happy mother’s day by my old friend Melissa. I still doubt she was being sarcastic. I mean, I have not known her for sarcasm. But she knows me for sarcasm (I hope) because on Father’s Day, Melissa you will even get a card from me. Anyway, thank you Melissa and everyone else who sees a mother in me. (God is seeing you mjangos. Hehe.) 
Though this is not about mothers. Okay it is for starters because hey, mothers are the cradle of humanity. It’s about the man who will leave mama’s house to find a life of his own. I know I know, we are back to talking about the boy child. But stay with me will you?
It’s Monday, 2:23pm at Pepinos right at the heart of the city. Pepinos, who doesn’t know Pepinos? Almost every millennial in the city has been to Pepinos. They say it’s better than going to Uhuru Park for a meet up. Sometimes it’s probably the only rendezvous point that is not embarrassing – that millennials know, especially the high schoolers. Oh and Archives too. 
Damn how could I forget about Archives – Mr. Price. How mjangos hardly ever have other places to meet up from other than Archives. If you’re not familiar with the City, relax I’m coming back for you. In fact just read on because I promise you’ll need this the day SGR will get to Western Kenya. Sorry I had to be a bit biased because I know how my Luhya brothers and sisters get massive problems when they come to the city to visit us. They say they are tired of having us only come to visit them over Christmas. Eti they want to come and see Times Tower. They hear that it falls on you when you look at its height from the ground. Yea, it never stops falling. We have been mugged and conned for so long and this has to stop. So let me help us all. 
If you’re a Nairobian you probably know by now that meeting up in crowded places is as dangerous as walking into a den of lions. You might think you are the Daniel of today and nothing shall by any means harm you. Amen if you believe that. But hearken to me all ye brethren, Archives is the Devil’s hunting zone. Basically because it’s ever crowded with both busy and idle people. And what do we know so far? Ask those who have ever lost their phones, been mugged, drugged, pickpocketed and harassed in Nairobi, they will tell you it all happened around Archives. It’s almost a guarantee that something not so good will happen to you if you hang around Archives. You still want to meet up around Archives? Sure, go ahead. But Lucci and I are wise. We met at Imenti House and proceeded to Pepinos for lunch. By the way, avoiding areas around Archives is part of the Bachelor lessons 101.
Lucci is also an old friend I met years ago after my voice had broken and it had now found its niche among the Tenor and lower soprano singers. She is typically the same age as I am. So I guess around that time is when she had begun to realise why boys made a lot of noise with hands at the back of their heads whenever she passed near them. My memory fails me on the events that led to our acquaintance. Anyway, here we are treating ourselves to countable fingers or French fries, a chicken drum, a bun and a bottle of soda. I feel like my manhood has failed me for having allowed me to take Fanta Passion while Lucci was having Stoney. Even the Fanta Passion was not cold.
“So I feel embarrassed now.” I say.
“Why so?” Lucci asks while opening her plastic bottled Stoney.
I salt my fries and chicken without answering.
I look at her soda and smile away.
“Oh because of my soda? Really now.” She chuckles. Thank Heavens she is not the rolling eyes type.
“Yea you know. I used to be disciplined about the sodas that I take. It went to nothing past Stoney and Krest.” I say as I put away the salt wrapping.
“So you think you are losing yourself?” She asks.
“Yes. The man in me that I know says and does what he says. But I won’t beat myself. I still have a number of things I can be proud of.”
I see the way she looks at the bun on her tray with so much detest. Maybe she thinks that the bun would go well with tea instead. And since there is no tea, if there’s a way she could wrap the bun and carry it home to have it with tea, whoa, it would be a saviour. No wait, that’s me who thinks so.
“What’s the beef with the bun? Or you’ll say that you’re upset because there’s no beef in the bun.”
She doesn’t get the joke. She just says, “I don’t see the use of this bun. It doesn’t even go well with anything that I am eating here.”
I look at my bun and then at my Fanta Passion. I feel like asking her if she is sure about that. I resist, but not for long.
“Are you sure it doesn’t go well with anything else that you are having?” 
She says, “I know you’re saying there is soda.”
“So you had the answer all along?” I ask and giggle. 
“You know you’re a guy and guys do eat and I mean really eat. But it’s different for me. I just don’t see how it fits in here.” She says and takes a sip.
I look at her for a while and clear my throat without actually having anything to clear. I secretly admire the look she has adopted. She wasn’t like that when we last met dog years ago. Her eyebrows are two perfect black arcs on her face. They are almost symmetrical to the circular shape of her glasses with thick lenses. The glasses sponsor the sexiness of her eyes giving her a luring and no shit look at the same time. Every picture she takes of herself is worth 500+ likes on Instagram and Facebook. But she stopped doing Facebook. Those pictures would have you think she does a lot of makeup. Mjango I carry a testimony for you today that she doesn’t. She has done only lipstick, eye shadow and eyeliner. Period! But still, the revelation of beauty that it brings goes well with the taste of Fanta Passion.  
“Well, at least you have said something I can relate with.” I say.
“Which is?” She asks.
“Guys eating a lot. You bet I won’t spare my bun even if it theoretically doesn’t go well with anything here.”
She laughs, “Eti theoretically!”
“Yea.” I giggle. “When you realise that you are about to become a bachelor, you don’t joke around with the necessities of life.”
Laughing, “Like food.” She says.
“Exactly. I see you know these things.” I say.
I take a bite of chicken. I don’t get to savour the sweetness because it’s still freaking hot.
“How can I not? You think I don’t know things.” She looks at me with a smile in the midst of chewing.
“Not like that.” I say. “It’s just that you haven’t left your mamas house yet you know. I’m just saying because I can tell a better tale being a guy as well.” I wink at her mischievously. 
“Have you left your mama’s house yet?” She asks. 
I spot her looking at my hair and beard occasionally. She later finds it hard to resist telling me that my haircut gives me this look she is unable to explain using words. I won’t say how she explained it. Just know she did. Lucci doesn’t talk a lot by the way. That’s what she says to cover up for her lack of words though. 
“Not really. Or rather not officially yet but yea. I’m slowly having a life of my own now. I’m looking forward to the day I will officially move out though.” I say.
“You sound so determined.” She says amidst chuckles. 
“You bet I am.”
She is done with her fries already. I have a few more fingers to go. I still question my slacking manhood.
“Can you even cook for yourself?” She asks.
I look at her keenly to trace any signs of sarcasm. I find none.
I sit up, rest my right elbow on the arm of the chair and place my chin on my fist.
Yaani you think I cannot cook?” There is a quest for challenge in my tone.
She pauses half way into taking another bite of her chicken drum. “What can you cook?”
I sigh, “Lucci I’m not answering that.”
She laughs, “But it’s not a bad question. Come on now.”
“I can live alone and I assure you I won’t starve and neither will I be eating dog food.” I say with a metal in my voice. 
“Eish okay, aspiring bachelor! But I just can’t imagine you cooking.” She bursts into laughter. “No way!”
I laugh along, “Kwani what do I look like doing?”
Mathogothanio!” Her laughter prolongs. 
I told myself if I snatched that piece of chicken from her hand she’d get serious and she’d realise I am serious too. I spare her however. I spare myself from being banned from Pepinos for harassing other customers as well.
“Then I guess there’s only one way to find out.” I say as I proceed with my meal.
“What? You gonna invite me over and cook?” She asks while catching her breath. 
“You’ve said it. It’s a plan.” 
She sighs heavily, “Okay. Now let’s get serious. You can cook?”
I pretend not have heard that.
“Who taught you how to cook?” She asks.
“My mum obviously.”
“Wow okay. That’s interesting. I just don’t hear many dudes aspire and actually say they are ready to have a life of their own outside their parents’ house. That’s a record breaker for you.” She says and wears a face that implies I should commend her for saying such a nice thing to me. I’m not selfish with compliments.
“Thank you. At least that was positive. And that’s how it should be. There is an age a boy should reach and it should occur to him that he is no longer a boy. Neither is he made a man by doing stunts of all kinds with the most common one being stunts on ladies. He is made a man by fending for himself after willingly breaking his dependence on other people and especially the parent figures in his life. He is a man when he starts doing things on his own. Makes mistakes and still gets back up, still on his own. By then, he should have been taught by mama on how to manage and maintain himself well. That is inclusive of basic cooking. After then, he can now officially become a bachelor. An unashamed one.”
“Nice speech mjango.” Lucci says.
“You just had to call it a speech huh?”
Laughs, “It was nice aki. You know it’s always nice listening to you. You never lack anything good to say.”
I smile, “Okay that soothes me now.”
“Anyway are you done eating yet ama Mr. Bachelor does not waste food because life as a bachelor is hard.” She falls into another set of soprano toned laughter.
“Silly you. Let’s go.” 
Oh by the way. Lucci gave me a gift. It’s a nice black and white bow tie. Mjangos said I looked stunning in it yesterday. It was all thanks to the kindness of Lucci. Maybe it is her way of wishing me well into this fast pacing bachelor nightmare.


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Written by The Mjango

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Mercy kamau
Mercy kamau
5 years ago

Big up mjango??