You Are Allowed To Be Fake… Once

I can see how this movie starts; Wanjiku has a knife on my skinny throat. (We all know skinny people die faster than chubby ones. The damage is so swift.) Record scratch. Freeze frame. Zoom. “You’re probably wondering how I got here…”


Have you ever been in a situation where you know your friend is about to get dumped, but you cannot say a word because it will mean explaining HOW you got to know about it? And between explaining and saving your friendship, one has outstanding value to another. That news can be broken by anyone else, so you wouldn’t want to be the one doing someone else’s job, right? And as she rants to you about how he is “weirdly busy” and “acting funny” (which is relative. Someone may have been pretending all along and now “funny” is the end of pretending), all you can do is listen and make as many shocked and disturbed facial expressions as you can. You even do the “Gossip mode expressions” where you slap your thighs and say something like “Ati what?” to emphasize the “disturbance” you feel and how you are moved by her plight.


I am very petty. Even my own boyfriend knows I am petty. I will get mad that you slept without saying good night, get mad that you didn’t text good morning, even get mad that you slept without saying good night and woke up to give me a hearty good morning. No, boo. Apologize first, then we get on. I am rather spoilt, so I really don’t get it when people get dumped over being petty. Or maybe he just stomachs it because he knows I will auction all his belongings before he can even finish saying, “Qui, it’s over”. But despite all this, I know that Wanjikus are very irritable.

My friend, Wanjiku, or Ciku as we call her, is like all other Cikus. You will want to pan fry them and feed them to dogs. Wanjikus get men very easily. They have these warm smiles and are very seductive. But they are highly irritable. Wanjiku can set your house on fire and take a photo captioned #lit.


“He can’t be thinking of breaking up with me, right?” she asks, slicing up cucumbers.

At this point, I have two options- play along or change my destiny. So instead of saying he actually does want a breakup, I let out such a long sigh, you’d think I relate.

“Men are dogs” Muthoni, my best friend says before pinching me. She has these eyes that scream “innocent”. Even now! Yes, you and I know we will be dead the minute we say we KNOW she’s about to be curved. And like the squad philosopher I am, I chip in,

“Seriously girls, men aren’t dogs. A dog can’t make you cry unless it’s chasing you. A dog won’t leave you wondering if you’re good enough.”

“Yes,” Ciku waving that knife again. “But they are dogs, anyway.”

Muthoni picks up, “What happened, lakini? Why the conflict?” As if she didn’t know.


“Hee. Imagine he said he has a hard time being romantic with me because supposebly, I have long toes and he finds it hard not to notice them. So I told him he has a head that’s bigger that his body. He looks like a lollipop. Yeye akasema he can’t stand all these things. And worse, that I always say sijui supposebly. Like kwani how should someone say it?”

Supposebly. Supposedly. Sigh.

We are out of excuses. How can we let a friend with long toes, who says supposebly and cold slaw instead of supposedly and coleslaw she’s about to get dumped, without telling her HOW we know? And don’t ask how we found out. Priss.

Photos: Courtesy