Laughing to stop crying
With Anthony Muchoki
Come to think of it. Governments are like men. Ever so present, making so many promises, but they always remain siri kali world over, just like men.
A man goes to the altar. He says out of his free will, ‘I do’ to a particular bra-wearer before a real priest and a big congregation. He promises never to set his eyes on another woman. Still, in secret, he goes on to establish two nyumba ndogo, one in Arusha and another one in Mbeya, within months after the big colourful wedding.
The licentious relationship goes on for years while the legally wedded bitter half is smiling in contentment in Dar es Salaam. Like the cat that drank all milk, she keeps saying she is the only wife in the city whose three-legged creature has been able to practice zero grazing.
When in Arusha, the lion swears to his sweetheart there that she is the only flower in the whole world that makes his heart tick, that it does not even set eyes on other bra-wearers. The story is the same in Mbeya, only much sweeter.
In Dar es Salaam, there is no need to convince the bitter half because there, the man is a born-again Christian, a church elder, and he even stands in for the minister when he is absent.
“Mama Tumaini, you must be the luckiest woman on earth to have such a man as your sweet husband. If what he taught us about family life is what he practices with you, I envy you. If only God had given me such a guy instead of the moron who calls me his wife, I could have lived on cloud nine. My sister, you are so lucky. Do you know my moron has brought another kid for me to bring up from another of his girlfriends?” so many women tell her such sad stories every Sunday when she goes to church.
Every single day of her life, she thanks the good Lord for granting her such a good husband for a life partner. Nobody or, rather, no wife is proud of her other half more than Mama Tumaini.
Her joyful face, ever smiling lips tells it all. The trouble is she only knows one side of her man and not the other. Just like the way the citizenry is always told only what it wants to hear by the government. Eh. The big G is there to protect, ensure your welfare and maintain law and order, the masses are told, and they happily pay taxes, part of which ends in the big guys’ wallets. No need to say all this takes place while the big Gs keep the state’s cloak-and-dagger firmly in their hands at the expense of the same masses.
I am saying that a man or the government tells you one thing and seems to do it while doing the extreme opposite. So long as the big secret is not discovered, years go by until the day the man’s life expires or there is a new government.
When the lion of the homestead has to be put six feet down the ground, the legal bitter half is confronted by two other bra-wearers claiming the lion was theirs as well. To prove it, they have four children, each just like her. And all three sets of the family seem each child has an age mate. That is, by all indications, the trio were pregnant four times around the same period. Incredible. And their cars are all similar- the same colour and models. No need to guess who bought them.
The legal wife says there is no possibility that his husband ever cheated and that the car issue must be a big coincidence. She is so confident. She says she is ready to pay for DNA to test if really the said other children are the fruits of his demised man’s third leg’s adventures.
She is convinced her husband is a saint, and that he never had another woman.
“You see, my darling sweetheart was so holy, and he could never cheat on me. I am 100 per cent sure right now he is seated in the right hand of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I cannot allow anyone to tarnish his name,” she tells the two women.
She remains overconfident until the DNA test results come out positive, indicating that her children and the pairs of the other two ladies share the same blood. The doctor tells her there is no iota of doubt that all the 12 children share the same father.
The legal wife becomes speechless and is confused for days. She wishes her lion was alive and vows if it were, she would kill it with her bare hands.
“How dare he cheat me like the devil himself? He treated me like the one and only queen of his heart. He told me so many times I was her only and only kingdom. I wish the devil were here, and I would send him back to the grave,” she howls to no one after the nyumba ndogo women have left. Anyway, the man was clever enough to have had different properties in each of her lovers’ names.
A man’s love, like the government’s love, is sweet when half-truths call the shots. When the truth comes out about what the man or the government does for real it turns out to be treacherous and a hot, acrid pain in the ass. Think about seri kali, from Tony Blair’s, the son of Bush’s to our own President El Hadj Omar Bongo of Gabon, who has ruled for 38 years. You can tell the kind of pain I am talking about.
After over 40 years of most African nation’s independence, the promise of fighting disease and ignorance, the promise of development and so on and on is still built up on promises and promises. All in the air. Poverty still calls the shots for the majority of Africans whenever you. Anyway, we don’t have to worry. Our governments have kept their promises and promises, just like our men or the little rat that gnaws your foot while telling you sorry for the pain caused.
When you know the lion of the homestead or the government was not true to its word, it is too late, and your tears won’t change anything. Better laugh. You can ask Lucky Dube.