GEORGINA III

Staying in a man’s house is like staying in a jackal’s cave. Yes, the jackal may be your friend, but reality is too, and the reality there is that you cannot befriend its wild side. No amount of words will convince a hungry jackal from devouring you when it’s hungry ; especially when it hasn’t had a decent meal in days and then there you are, lying on the couch in the living of its cage.

(Read the previous episode here.)

Okay, maybe this particular jackal is a good jackal – one that knows that some deers are not worth devouring. A jackal that has gone to school and is now tamed not to behave like a jackass, sorry, like a jackal. Therefore, it knows how to live harmoniously with other animals in the food chain. Infact, other animals, especially the herbivorous ones, would adore it and respect it. They’d even go to it for help whenever there is a hyena that’s constantly on their tails. It’d bark three times and the hyenas would run off with their tails in the middle of their legs.

So yes, this jackal is a good one. It has specialized less in preying and more in therapy. It has helped one deer to realise that it has a not so common disorder that makes its odour act like a repellant.

Now you see animals have special senses of smell mjango. Some predators can smell their preys from a distance. Having a repellant odour is not a good thing. Okay it’s not entirely a good thing. Imagine being a deer and not having even one predator looking your way to chase you, but running away from you instead? You have become a predator to the predators because of just one trait that is evident even in your aura. Fear runs through their spines when they smell you approaching. It’s bad because that trait scares away the lions as well.

It is the pride of any deer in this animal kingdom of ours to be pursued by a lion. Unlike any other predators like the hyena, the lion would pursue you with pride and strategy. His roar would turn you on even as you try to zigzag through the savannah to distract him during a chase. And at one point you would just want to give in. He would handle you with respect like a meal that dropped from heaven. He would not be scared to look into your eyes as he slowly licks your neck in preparedness to tear your skin. He’d then tear your skin with passion like a man undoing a woman’s blouse. As a deer, you deserve a respectable ‘death’ like that. ‘Death’ in the right paws. Not the paws of some indecent hyena. However this trait denies this beautiful deer a chance with the king of the jungle. It makes her undesirable. This trait, is none other than, narcissism.

****

And so, Gina left Phil’s house prematurely because she felt like she did not want to seem dependent on him.What hurt her the most was the constant realization that her recently diagnosed narcissistic traits is what caused her a wonderful thing with the one she called king of her jungle. In her life, there was no other man that had stood out like he did.

****

Well then mjango, kindly meet Martin. A decent young man just about a year older than her. If you check his portfolio in heaven’s portal, you will find that he is the man of the people. Everybody loves him because he is a nice guy. The type that treats everyone right, cares for everyone and is known for going out of his way countless times to help anyone he calls friend. He does everything with the enthusiasm of a little boy. His behavior and attitude towards life shows how well he has been raised. A man who cooks, cleans and knows how to manage the environment and affairs around him sure sounds like a good deal for any woman.

He never lacks a good word in his tongue but he is soft spoken at the same time. Ah, the mjango is smart. Like the combination of Einsten, Zuckerberg and Dr. Phil. That has made him a darling among scholars and a demigod to sapiosexuals.

After the following statement be sure as hell you’d call him God’s favourite. They say God cannot give you everything but maybe, He made an exception. He gave this one man all the mentioned superhuman personalities and still gave him good looks – a proper height that wouldn’t offend ladies when they hug him, properly shaped eyes and their brows, nicely arced smile, square jawbones, soft hair on his head, a goatie on his chin and finally, a slightly light complexion. You bet God threw in that light complexion in the mix like the way you’d put salt on mutura.
All those and more are the reasons why Gina loved him.

At the same time, this angelic human being had been having any eye for Georgina from about more than ten years before. They had been best friends ever since. For ten years, they had known each other but never at one point had she ever confessed back her feelings for him. She was majorly held back by the fact that she knew she would hurt him eventually if she happened to allow their friendship to take the love angle. Oftenly, she would feel a hot potato stick on her throat whenever she saw him date other girls. A pure hearted guy like him deserved a girl who wouldn’t hurt him like she was afraid she’d do if they ever got to date. While they were friends, he never hurt any of the girls he dated. One of the girls he ever dated was her friend. She would tell Gina about Martin and how nicely he would treat her even with niceties. She died a little every time she heard things like those but kept it all to herself.

She normally spent so much time with Martin. He was the one man in her entire life she ever felt at home with. Like his presence would calm her ghosts. And in most of those times she felt like giving in to his arms. But she just couldn’t.

At one point, she began to spend six out of seven days at his place. Call him her shelter from heavy rain and the heavy rain was herself. It was at this point that she gave in to her feelings and let it happen. Let what’s real to take its course. But not just let it like blowing flour into the air. She was determined to make him happy and be the woman a man like him deserved. And with that objective at heart, she did what a woman would do to appease her man like igwe. She, among other things, ran his house, did major chores, supervised the cleaning lady, cooked for him and waited for him to come home to hot food and warm bedsheets. What kind of man doesn’t like to come home to that? Maybe a man who has had the pleasure of hot food, warm bedsheets and the heat of another woman already elsewhere before heading to his own house.

And so, determination is the key. But it’s a broken key when you have something else in your inner self that fights against the good that you determine to be.

November 2019 saw them begin a journey together. It was admirable. But their vehicle started to suffer from an engine failure not long after. Someone was chocking the engine with bad fuel. Bad fuel like jealousy about how everyone else loved him. Not that she didn’t know that he was the man of the people, but it was now becoming an issue from Heaven knows where. Bad fuel like complaining about minute things not worth two shillings. Like being mean to him for no good reason. Not just him, but his friends too. If you want to hurt a man, (not a family man in this case), target his friends mjango. She made him shrink like a hamster at the sight of a scapel. Like the reflex of any man would be, he started being afraid of going back home everyday. Why would you be motivated to go to a haunted house where your blood is siphoned for reasons you don’t understand? She was damaging him and interfering with his peace without knowing. Yes, without knowing mjango.

“I was fighting my own battles, and instead of talking to him about them, I let my anger project onto him. It was a case of meeting the right person at the wrong time. At this point, I was now fighting my demons through hard drugs, and alcohol. I would sneak out and get hard drugs and that made it even worse. I became a little demon.”

It’s one thing to fight your battles but it’s a more necessary thing to fill in the person you love on the highlights of your battle. Otherwise, it will only seem to them that you’re fighting against them. That’s the one thing Gina didn’t do. They once fought in the streets of Nairobi but still didn’t tell him. She was arrested while drunk and thrown into a cell. He bailed her out but still didn’t tell him. He cleaned up after her messes but still, she kept her mouth shut. She’d come close to telling him. But all what could come out was sob after sob, tear after tear. That was the day when she left him in the streets with tears in her eyes and a blurry view before her. It was on that same day that he used his last straw and gave up.

Later, she asked herself why he couldn’t see that she was in pain anyway – as she tried to piece her past together.

Here is my opinion however; I feel like I have a right to give because I have been in that same position some time, where someone expected me to have seen that they were going through shit and played the, ‘You should have understood’ and ‘You should have been more patient’ – card on me. This is how things look like on my side madam. I am not and neither is any man an angel. It’s not obvious that I’d see that you’re going through turmoil. The kind that warrants you to push me back like I’m standing in your space. To the best of my abilities, I have been understanding and patient. Do you know why I couldn’t be understanding and patient more than that? Because even if you cannot say what kind of hell you’re going through, you didn’t even mention that you just needed time and that I needed to be understanding and patient. You didn’t do anything to encourage my human soul that is prone to hurt and tiredness, to just hold on there for your sake. Isn’t that what lovers should do? At least make me calm down even if you’re not able to make me understand? Lovers are not angels mjango. There is a slang slogan that says ‘jiheshimu brathe‘ and at some point, it’s the best advice male lovers in situations like those have on the table.

Anyway maybe she was justified not to tell him, maybe she wasn’t. Regardless of those facts, hell continued to break lose on the grounds they were both standing.

****

The last Wednesday of November – The month is closing in so fast and so is the year. As the rest of the world foresaw the end of the year and the end of a decade, these two best friends turned lovers but now lovers in hot seats foresaw nothing like an abrupt end of their union. The union they had subconsciously put in waiting for about ten years. Who said the subconscious yearn for each other over a decade earns both of you the raw material of love to manufacture an unbreakable bond and relationship? They must have been high on something because, well, because of this:

Seeing that they were both freelance business persons tied also as financial partners by their romantic relationship, they happened to be in the house all day. Sometimes they’d work from the house, which mostly involved taking orders through phone calls and emails, channeling the same orders to their dealers who turned those orders into products. Among the products they dealt in were hoodies printed with the signature of Martin’s brand, 2XX XXX – in a funky calligraphy.

It was one of those days that they woke up so well. They had slept on warm bedsheets and woke up facing each other, their eyes would lock and love would spark and ignite lust. Lust that led to a touch here and a touch there, flying beddings here and flying pajamas there, a romp up and a romp down, a loud moan then a soft moan, and then heavy breathing later as they stared up the ceiling. A final sigh would follow before she’d go make him breakfast while only dressed in an oversized t-shirt and he’d go take a shower. I know if it were up to you mjango you’d have opted for the shower together, but this is not your story. Email me with yours.

It would be good vibes only until sometime past lunch time. He’d come storming to the sitting room where she’s seated watching Netflix while chilling. He’d ask a chain of questions and not giving room for answers. Whenever she got a window to respond she’d be slapped with more harsh words about what she did, allegedly. She wanted to explain that she didn’t do what he was claiming. That she is not the reason for a good, in fact, one of the best business deals that had now gone sour.

He matched out of the room just like he came and banged the bedroom door behind him. That didn’t sit well with her. She was bruised at heart. Her lover is upset with her about something she wasn’t responsible for. It was a misunderstanding. She wanted to cry. But crying didn’t seem consoling enough. She didn’t know how to tell him that he had wronged her.

And so, she left the house and strolled to wherever the road would lead her. Apparently, it led her to the place perhaps she thought she’d get consolation to her bruised heart. Her friend’s office. It was slightly past 5pm and hard-working Kenyans had already left the office like there was a pandemic in it.

She told him everything that had happened. Serviette after serviette he offered her as she flooded his office with tears. He must have realized serviettes were not doing enough consoling. He was a man faced with the biggest challenge men face, a crying woman before them. There is no handbook for such a situation. Neither is there time to Google because every time we get to Google at our free times, it never crosses our minds that we should foresee a crying woman before us and Google about it to be on the know. We often prefer to be on the know about other things, more important things. Like things that require more knowledge on how to craft some acrobatic positions and act skilfully while in those positions. Positions where future human lives are at stake.

His manly instincts led him to just hug her. Maybe that’s all she needs. Or isn’t that always what women need? A hug? A hug while he says, “There there lionesses. Even they do get hurt sometimes.” I’m not sure whether he continued those words of consolation with things like, “Let me take you back home. I’m sure he has cooled off and you guys can talk. You can then tell him how you feel about how he spoke to you.” Though what I’m sure of mjango, is that the hug became tighter through every new sob. But even after the sobbing was over, the hug was just as tight as before. Now more things in the pants were getting a little bit too tight as well.

It usually starts with just one finger rubbing on the arm of the other. When she responds by rubbing her finger on your arm as well, you take that as a good sign. But you don’t want to seem like you’re the one who wanted to drive things. So you wait to see whether she will unleash another sign. The whole hand. She starts rubbing your arm with her entire hand. Now you’re confused about what she really wants. For all you know, she has a man who you know she loves and she is only here with you for consolation. Now you start to wonder whether consolation has a different meaning in the dictionary. The hand rubbing on your arm is saying otherwise. You decide to rub back as well because you don’t want to seem selfish with consolation. Consolation is free. Especially for lovely friends like her.

At the end of that day, you lie on your bed before sleeping and you tell yourself that they will have to change the meaning of consolation in the dictionary. But anyway even if they don’t, you’ll sleep a happy man because you consoled a woman. Another man’s woman. And for the record, while you were at it, she seemed to have loved it. It bewilders you when you flashback. Your own property will taste good. But there is just something about another man’s property. Something that leaves a spicy taste in your mouth for ages.

But here is the problem, she is not replying to your texts or calls since you parted ways after leaving the office. You really want to know whether she is safe and okay. So you text her man because he is also your friend and ask him whether Gina is okay. You don’t realise that by so doing, you have gas lit her to her man. But you tell yourself that your day ended well. Wow. So you switch off the lamp on your bedside, you tell yourself, “Goodnight mjango,” and then, you sleep.

To be continued…