Football Or Marriage

While most smart females worldwide have begun making plans of getaways with girlfriends and are grabbing their men for last minute dates, I am on the other side of the court. With the men who are about to disappear for months. Forget about the elections that will torment us for a few days and then we’re back to complaining of this MP and that Governor. I am on the side of the court that is about to unite people worldwide. Football season is a whiff away!

With such kind of excitement, you can only see the sense in why I have continually thanked God this whole month that I am not married. Fam, I had a “Life Book”. It explicitly highlighted my plan for my life. I was supposed to be married by 25. Lol. I am 25 and cannot even begin to imagine HOW I would have been someone’s wife, let alone mother, at this point. My mother had 2 kids by 25. I am here struggling to find my bra straps, how can I even match my child’s name to his/her face? I salute all women who have children by 25. I have refused to can.

Imagine how I would be struggling next month. Mr. Man and I get home from work. I get in and place my bag somewhere, wash my hands and take a fruit. Any team is playing, and I am all psyched to watch and place bets and have stories. And, of course, piss Mr. Man. (It’s in the constitution). Mr. Man will ask for food when the game is hottest, like a typical man. “Master, wait till half time” I will say, before being taken back to my mother’s house the next day.

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I joined campus in April 2012. World cup was so lit at the time. I already had relatives telling me how I would never get a husband when they heard I was going to study Politics. A Nyerian woman studying politics. That’s the kind of sentence that makes you join campus with so much humility and you become too conscious. Because, you must look wife material, you know? I didn’t even speak of football, because, you know… Until my newest friend mentioned it. And I knew I had found my soul-mate.

Guise, it is one thing to look for plot in campus. It is yet another for two first year females to look for a place to watch football. But our mothers didn’t raise quitters, so we approached one of her male friends.

“Where do you guys usually watch football?”

There is laughter only men can give when a woman asks for a place to watch football.

Moi University Student’s Center, also known as “Stuudie”, was the spot. Strathmore and USIU students shouldn’t even attempt to imagine how stuudie looks like. It is the equivalent of a chaotic empty hexagonal space. With a roof so open, even the echo echoes itself. But we went. Not quitters, remember? Surprised that men were carrying chairs, but even more surprised that more than 500 students would follow this anticipated match via a 30 inch television.

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I used to attend Gor Mahia matches. If you have never seen miracles, please attend one… especially when against AFC Leopards. How people suddenly turn the papers and money in their pockets into stones will forever remain a miracle that should be in the Guinness Book. Forget the backward writer who called Gor Mahia a “little-known Kenyan club”. But the stones and teargas I witnessed at Nyayo Stadium were nothing compared to the flying chairs these very dry Moi University goons called men threw.

I can confidently say that that was how we got inducted and oriented into Political Science. What is African politics without chaos? If that is how these MPs feel during those chaotic meetings, I think I will be comfortable working behind the scenes.

A Mr. Man left me in a club in 2014. My team was playing against his and we won. Apparently, I celebrated too loudly. Sigh. Story for another day.

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I have been through too much for football. I am working to reduce this appeasement. Ba is harrd. I can see myself putting my kids to bed at 6 pm just to enjoy my football time. Or cooking at the beginning of the season and stocking the fridge. Sigh. And if my relatives get to read this, prayers will be convened.

Brethren, take your women out for dinner or drinks or something before August. Appreciate the effort they put all year. And the loneliness they will feel. And if you’re a woman with a man who doesn’t watch football, and you do, Mwathani akuririkane my sister because! This life is tricky.

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SECRETARY OF THE HOLY GHOST

Mama Lucy Kibaki becomes the first Kikuyu woman to die and leave a rich husband behind. I tried so hard not to laugh at this, but, oh well. That’s beside the point.
After watching a whole lot of Hollywood movies, I am almost convinced that people can turn in their graves, or be delayed from “proceeding to the other world” by others. That a person can just roam about in purgatory, for those who believe in it, happens to be one of the scariest things you could ever encounter. Believe me, the minute you sit down for a marathon of Sleepy Hollow, you will understand what I am saying.
Today, we woke up to the sad news of the untimely death of Mama Lucy Kibaki. Untimely because, we are never prepared for the death of a loved one, even of those who basically live on a hospital bed (no pun intended). Amidst the many condolence messages and jokes about her eyebrows, something caught my eye and mad me really pissed off. Comments and posts about how the family deserves the pain.

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Who are we to judge who deserves pain and who doesn’t? Has Jesus been hiring and I missed the memo? We are up in arms about how Mwai Kibaki was corrupt and took his wife to a bomb shell hospital most of us can’t afford, while our relatives rot on those KNH floors, thus the family deserves such pain. Ranting about how our sins always catch up with us and it’s their turn.
Well, self-proclaimed Secretary of the Holy Ghost, shame on you and take a seat. No one should ever have to be cajoled and ridiculed because of misfortune. The sins of a spouse or a family member should never be intertwined with the life of any of their spouses or family members. So what if Mwai Kibaki was corrupt? So what if he rigged the elections? Let Mama Lucy be!

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You need to point a finger, direct them to the person at fault. Let the others be. If she died as a punishment to Kibaki, that is for God Almighty to decide and know, not for you, self-proclaimed Secretary, to determine.
Mama Lucy deserves to “cross over” and await her day of judgement in peace. But here we are, already turning her over before she’s even in her coffin. Being silent over Kibaki’s alleged sins for all this time and bringing them up in a time of sorrow is plain wrong. Let us stop being so conditioned to celebrating people’s misfortune.


Unless, of course, you already have The Book of Life in your hands? I would love to know my fate.
Rest in eternal peace, Mama Lucy. We will forever remember your boldness.

Photos: Courtesy