“I swear I knew it was going to be a threesome.” 

“That the baby he wanted would be made by force by threesome?” 

She snorted. 

(Read the previous episode here.)


The conversation swirled towards what would happen if a friend of the opposite gender undressed before you. That was a group of my friends we had a YouTube show with. 

“Just undressed and stays that way ama?” Went the question. Even you’d want to be sure of the context before going through the trampoline to reach for the unimaginable thoughts. 

“Maybe just changing clothes. You guys are so used to each other that probably she’d feel free to do that.” 

I’m big with sound effects and exclamations. So all I could do was exclaim and exhale loudly because there’s no temptation that is not common to man but that one is still quite uncommon to me. 

“They are playing with fire!” Said another as we all burst into laughter. 

Generally we never imagine anyone taking clothes off before us like it’s nothing. In fact, out of curiosity I once asked someone (not just anyone though) about what happens when they (ladies) visit a gyna. 

“And a gyna is a man?” 

“Yes.” I’d say. 

Giggle, “You’re trying to imagine the awkwardness that zooms in when we take our clothes off before a man gyna for an exam?”


“Imagine they don’t even see it as a big deal. They’ve been down there several times with several patients. Like a mechanic, no car is ever new to them. Just another day at work.” 

So we’ll leave it at that but not without sympathising or empathising with Betty in her moment of shock. 


“Take a shower and come to bed.” When she said that, I snapped out of my shock. I did everything so reluctantly. Wafula had put on some shorts and a shirt. Thank God? Maybe not just yet. Maybe good foreplay has something to do with the art of taking clothes off again. I remember zooming out in the shower while thinking about my life. Hot water running down on me felt like a warm hug from heaven. I zombie walked into the bed, the middle spot was reserved for me. The definition of sandwiched. 

Wafula spooned me as we slept. I didn’t even sleep. I just couldn’t. I spent the better part of the night crying my miseries to the sheets. I questioned my decisions, my intentions and heck even God’s will. At around 2am Kendi woke up to go to the washroom. I had to help her get up. That’s when I got the window to call Ken. I think this offset Wafula because when I went back to bed, he turned to the other side. 

When I woke up, he was gone. I went downstairs for breakfast. Kendi mentioned that he just left. I expressed my intentions to leave as well but I felt like she was barricading them with, “I have some things for us to do,” and “Wafula will be upset.” I texted him and he replied saying, “Nimewaacha hapo. Juaneni!” Surely you cannot force me to stay. I left to see Ken at around 11am. 

We met up in a cafe. I was seated facing the entrance. In the middle of my convo with Ken, I see someone familiar walk in and takes a seat near the entrance. In my head I was like, “Wafula! Really? Now I can’t just meet up with people in peace? How the hell did you even know I am here.” 

“I have to cut our meet up short. I’m sorry but I have to deal with someone then go to Kakamega.” 

Of course he protested but being a nice guy, he gave in under the promise that I’d tell him everything that was going on. So he left. I went to the table Wafula was at and confronted him with the same hormone energy I would when in my menses. Surprisingly all that was like trying to scratch diamond. 

“You want to go to Kakamega? If you’re going I’m driving you there then. Because I want us to go to Bungoma today.” 

“I’m already tired. Let’s just go.” 

Later I saw a picture on WhatsApp from Ken. He had taken a picture of Wafula and I leaving together. Apparently, he didn’t drive off. He just changed parking spots. I just didn’t know what to tell him. 

My people in Kakamega were disappointed that I came and didn’t even see them. They didn’t know that I was slowly not belonging to myself anymore. Here we were back to Eldoret packing to leave for Bungoma. My mum knew I had gone to Kakamega. I prayed that she’d not find out what was at play. If she really had to, let it not be the hard way. 


“How were you welcomed in Bungoma?” 

“Like a queen, Mjango. I have never seen anyone’s parents be so happy to meet me. Kendi was just there. I don’t know whether it’s because they’re used to her but still. This one was unusual. Wah there was a lot of food. Aki Waluhya!” 

“Weh leave us alone.” 

“For real you guys know how to please a soul with food. I was made to eat like a pig.”

“The pig they loved at first sight.” Chuckle. 


“I was shown around the acres and acres of land. His father especially had a soft spot for me. He was so proud to show me around and introduce me to whoever we met. 

“Hii ni shamba ya kijana yangu Wafula. Na pale ndio atakujengea nyumba.” 

“For real? Yani you were going to have your own mansion?” 

“You just continue to celebrate Mjango. These things come at a price. A heavy price. A price that you carry for nine months and then your entire lifetime. You men do not know how to give things freely. You’ll always have an agenda. And though it may look like you’re doing it platonically out of goodwill, when it’s clear to you that the end game won’t be a win, you recall your troops and resources. That wasn’t just to be my house. It was to be my house and his child’s.

At some point his father asked, “Umekubali kuwa wa kijana yangu? Naona wewe sio kama huyo bibi yake anamsumbua. Naona kijana yangu anakufurahia sana. Umemkubali?”  


The ol’man wanted a straw to hold on to. He had so much hope in me. It’s a girl’s dream to be proposed to by the man of her dreams. The opposite of that is being proposed to by the father of the man who was not in any dream – on his son’s behalf. I know too well not to break an old man’s heart.” 

“You mean you told him yes?”

“Imagine now what was I to do?” 

I slapped the table. 


The following day Wafula was in a good mood. Of course because he was sure that he had himself a second wife. When one knife doesn’t cut, he was sure the other would. I was the other knife. And he always believed in me to cut. 

“Nyi mabibi zangu nataka kuwapeleka out.” 

Who were we to say no to a treat which is probably the least he could appreciate us with for saying yes to him. He took us for a swim. Yeah even pregnant women can enjoy luxuries that come by the pool. When the time to order junk food came, I didn’t spare it. It was all well until Kendi called my mum. 

I was in the middle of a chicken bite when I heard, “Yes mama Betty, mimi ni Kendi.” 

I should have snatched the phone before suddenly she blurbed, “Eh she’s now my co-wife. Our husband is Wafula. You know him, ndio alipea Betty job.” 

I felt like dying. The pool monster should just grow hands and pull me into its bosom never to spit me out but only after it has sucked the life out of me. 

“Tuko Bungoma. Ata ametoka kuona wazazi wake.”

I ground my teeth swearing that if my mum collapsed from a stroke or something similar because of the shit she was feeding her unceremoniously, I’d strangle her to the floor.

The food wasn’t sweet anymore. It turned into a girl fight. 

“Who gave you the authority to call my mum?” 

“I’m your co-wife. Your mum is part of my life now. She’s now like my mum.” 

It would have graduated into a cat fight had Wafula not shown up in time. I had planned to tell my mum everything when in the right setting and space. Hearing it from someone else first was wounding on both ends. 

I was done staying in Bungoma. I wanted out and Wafula didn’t have a choice but to honour that. I was pumped with moods and even didn’t want anything to do with him. 

We were back in Eldoret. Rotten eggs all over the walls of my heart then they pull another stunt. That night Kendi left for another bedroom tactically. I read it all from the beginning. Wafula made his move on me. 

I played the wild card, “I’m on my periods.” 

Dang it! He must have said. But judging from his reactions, he knew I was pulling his leg. Like guys say in situations like those, “Huyu dem anaona me ni fala!”

He woke up so moody. Kendi walked into the room with a leap in her step expecting to hear the way the room was turned upside down at night in effort to make that baby. 

“You guys needed a third company to spice things up ama?” 

I rolled my eyes and said shut up woman, under my breath. 

“Wafula are you taking me home or what? I need to see mum.” 

“Get ready then.”

A man denied of his conjugal rights is no different from a bull elephant. I mean all men are the same. The bull elephant unleashes war on anything and anyone on its path. Dare not be on the highway as well and especially in the car when Wafula is indignant. He drove like he was ferrying sacks of miraa. The irony was all over in regards to how he drove when we first went to Eldoret. I saw him fly past Nakuru like it didn’t exist. Silence and strife had stuffed the car. When we got to Nyaharuru highway, I couldn’t hold my peace any longer. 

I ranted out how I had seen him treat me like a dishrag. He wanted to have me do things for him but not even concerned about whether I was hungry or not. And damn right I was and had seen how he didn’t even want to look out the window as we cruised through Nakuru. I saw you son of a gun! I saw you! 

Never at one point had I imagined I’d ever be dramatic. But this one had to play out. The pride I felt when he grew remorseful and took a U-turn back to Nakuru. Don’t joke with a woman mjango. I have read the book, The Power of Pussy twice for a reason. 

You can imagine we got to Nakuru and he said I could pick what I wanted. Today the focus wasn’t even on food although I still bought some. The focus was on mum. Mjango, I shopped for household things, especially cutlery. You’d think I was moving to a new house. A 13KG gas I tell you, not without a cooker, nozzle and pipe. Even I am amazed at where I got the guts to pull a stunt like that. The last time I spoke to mum she was so offended. 

“Unanidanganya umeenda Kakamega kumbe umeenda kuoleka na wanaume. Kaa huko kama unaona umekuwa mama mzima.” 

And then she hung up. 

Surely a mere, “Mum I’m home,” wasn’t going to appease her. It had to carry the weight of kitchenware and a 13KG gas with it. 

All that shopping almost worth 70K? Even I knew I was going to pay for it somehow. 

“We are going to my place. You’ll go home tomorrow.” He said when we were about to get to Nyaharuru. My gut knew there was no buying my way out of that one. 





“Story imeishia hapo?” 

“Depends on whether you want to hear the rest of it.” 


“Just skip the part where…” 

“I had to do it Mjango. Yes, we did it.” 

I wasn’t sure whether to say sorry. I just looked away. In that window of silence I thought about the things girls and women have to go through in this life. 

“The following day I went home and as I expected, mum had to be happy to receive the gifts I went bearing. My younger brother had been texting me asking whether it was true I had gotten married. We’re used to each other so I told him and he understood. For the sake of a good gesture towards mum, I couldn’t leave the house again. I had to buy something. And I had to make sure Wafula was long gone in order to buy it. I couldn’t buy it between the time we left his house and when we got home. I had to send my brother. 

“As long as you give me money to play PS, I’ll bring you anything. Si you know nothing is free.”

“Weh ebu start going. I’ll send you the money.”

Kwani what did you send him to buy?”


Well played Betty. Well played. Is what I said. 

“Coincidentally that was the same thing Wafula said when he discovered I wasn’t really acting pregnant.

I think that was God using him to channel His blessings on me in that season. When word had it school was opening soon, I told him I was leaving for school. And that’s how I drifted from him. He wanted me to stay. In fact do you know I was kinda fired after the P2 revelation. Much later we happened to talk and I read from his expressions that things at work were heading for the rectum real fast and real bad. I offered to go and help. He refused but rebuked him off his ego and went to help. Handling ledgers is not a joke my friend. Not just anyone can do it. Yes so eventually we drifted and here I am far away from him. I realised he’s very toxic. 

“Wueh! Okay. By the way he said he’d deposit any amount not more than a million. Did he?”

She laughed as she poked her phone to pay for the marinated chips and chicken we had just partaken. 


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