The Village Boy & The City Damsel 2

Today’s post is the kind to get in me trouble. I am sure that it will make my mother call me aside and fill my head with lectures on why I should stop writing silly things about her on my blog. She will also take the opportunity to remind me for the gazillionth time that I am not her agemate and all that yada yada. But she is my muse for this story apende asipende. I know that other children are putting their mothers in brand new Bentleys while I am putting mine in my blog posts. Sisi ndio tuko! Hihihi!

You see, I was raised in a loving home led by two parents whose differences in personalities were as visible as Bro. Atwoli’s potbelly. My father was the clown who kept our ribs arching, the ‘nice’ parent who’d let us have our way on most occasions, the one obsessed with education, and the one who constantly reminded us that he loved us.

Mum on the other hand loved to laugh at dad’s jokes, was the strict parent who canned us like criminals, a bit flexible on education matters, and expected us to know that she loved us through her actions. She also liked to disagree with dad’s opinions just for shits and giggles. I bet that she would wait to hear his opinion on something solely so that she can disagree. Talk about Uchokozi kwa DNA. Through them, I learned to be more accepting of people and their differences.

I am a sucker for love. I may act Taliban outchea but deep down nataka mapenzi hohoho! So, I once asked mum how she met my father. I was really hoping that she would nostalgically narrate to me how she met the love of her life lakini wapi? Ooliskia wapi? She finished wiping her hands using a small kitchen towel then nonchalantly replied “I met him at a wedding.” Attempts to get more details on their love story hit a wall because she closed the discussion saying that she had better things to do. Wueh! If Taliban was a person, it’d be my mother. Imagine, every single time I tell her that love her when ending a phone call, she replies “Wewe uko na mchezo sana!” Mum, am I a joke to you?

Anyway, I did not really believe that story. Something tells me that they must have met at Ugunja market. For those who don’t know Ugunja, it is the pearl of Siaya County. Ugunja boasts of a boisterous market which despite its tiny size is giving the peeps at Siaya town sleepless nights because, maendeleo nayo? OK… I am kidding. Ugunja is my hometown.

Now here is my theory. Ugunja is not far from my mum’s village. Mark that information because it is really important in this theory. Mum was raised in the city and would visit her village together with her siblings every holiday. Dad on the other hand was raised in the village. His father was the senior chief of the location. Like other young men, Dad must have loved to hang around the marketplace on market days with his mbogi to pass time and also you know, check out them fine ghels. Are we together mpaka hapo? OK.

According to my theory, mum must have been sent to Ugunja Market by her mother to get some household stuff on this day. She was probably in the company of her friends or her sisters, let’s just say her friends for the purpose of this theory. On this same day, dad must have gone to hang out at the same market. I have a feeling that they were both rocking their Sunday best because, market days must have been a big deal, you know, like their version of Koroga Festival or something. Mum must have been on her way out of the market when Dad spotted her. She was probably engrossed in a conversation with her girlies like:

Mum: Ladies! Can you believe that Omondi asked me out jana? (Mum must have liked to mix Swahili and English to show that she was raised in the city).

Friend one: Wait! Wait! Omondi Kichwa Kubwa? The one who eats like a rat on de haiwei? (OK, she probably didn’t say that. But must have said something close to that).

Mum: Yes. That Omondi. I have told him severally that I am not interested bana! Mimi, I don’t want my kids to inherit that steel wool hair of his.

Friend Two: Yes, and when you will be struggling to plait matutas on their big heads or take them to the salon he will be out drinking with his boys or at a Gor Mahia Match Aaah! Aaah! No! You deserve better siz!

Friend One: Plus your back will tire from cooking big ugali because he eats like a fundi.

Friend three: Hahaha! I even heard that he is always present at all funerals. Apparently has a pact with the local caterer Jandiga in order to get details on where and when the next funeral is happening. Kisa na maana! Chakula!! Just run my friend. Kama iyo ndio mapenzi wacha ikae. You are better off single.

This whole time Dad must have noticed her and was already strategizing on how he would approach her. His boys must have been discouraging by telling him that she would shoo him away because city girls were so conceited and mean. But ‘Stubborn’ is my old man’s middle name and he loved a good challenge. So after rehearsing his pick-up lines he must have swung into action.

Dad: Hi ladies, behold the duke of Ugunja! (dramatically stretching his hands towards the horizon. My dad had a dramatic flair to his personality and must have passed down a little of it to me) Welcomes you fine ladies to Ugunja, the Pearl of Siaya!

Friend two: (surprised by his guts and interjection) Duke of Ugunja?

Dad: Oh! Yes. You might not know this but, my father is the chief here. Furthermore, he is not just a chief….He is theeee Senior Chief.

Mum: (Rolling her eyes) Well, good for him. Ladies, hebu let’s go.

Dad: Wait, wait…don’t you guys want a tour around the Pearl of Siaya.

Mum: No sir. Thanks but we are in a hurry.

Dad: Come on. Don’t be so uptight! My strong and handsome boys (pointing his mbogi who were waving their hands a few meters away) and I the Duke himself, will help you ladies carry your luggage. Fear not as we shall even escort all of you home after the tour.

Mum: Duke of Ugunja or whatever you call yourself……. We are not interested.

Dad: (Persistently) Remember that not everyone gets to have the splendid Duke of Ugunja, yours truly, as their tour guide around this panoramic area. Think twice before turning down this tantalizing offer. (Smilling ear to ear with the hope of getting her to notice his dimples).

Friend Three: Come on! Let’s see what this so-called duke, has to show us.

Mum: Haha! (Rolling eyes again) OK. But it better be worth it. I have to go to fetch water later.


I know that mum will submit me as a prayer item in her next church Jumuiya meeting hohoho! And the members will pray hard for her daughter now that she is the treasurer. You know, treasurers might decide to disappear with the Jumuiya contributions so their prayer requests are usually given the utmost seriousness.


Before I end this post, I want to pass a special message to my office boyfriend Muchai. You probably won’t believe this but guess who appeared to me in my dream last night? It was Angel Gabriel! He told me to ask you, “Utaitwa Zdaddy ama Zdari hadi lini? It’s time uitwe Daddy ama Baba!” You can roll your eyes all you want or even call me a false prophet but where is the lie? I would have sent you this message privately on WhatsApp but I like annoying you so I decided to post it here. And please don’t threaten to take down my site because I am just a messenger.

Have a great week.

I can afford to pull up on my own I need my soldiers