One of the key roles of being a big sister to girls (save for annoying the sh*t out of them), is the boy talk confidante. My sisters can tell you that I take this boy talk thingy with the seriousness it deserves. Well at least for the youngest Maryanne, because my other sister Regie is not exactly an open book. She hides her boyfriends and crushes like mihadarati. I only find out about them when they become her exes (shout out to Regie AKA Nyawanda Kipenzi, I have really missed you).
Regie is not easy to impress and I highly suspect that she got that from mum. I once asked mum how she met my father and she nonchalantly replied, “I met him at a wedding!” That answer shocked me because I expected her to giggle around and blush, you know? Seriously mum, this man was the love of your life and father of your kids bana!! But my mother would rather count dust particles in the air than show her emotions.
I really regret not asking dad for his version of how he met mum. However, I am sure that his story would include a lot of blushing and giggling. He was never shy to show his emotions. He would always remind me that he loved me before ending phone calls (how I miss that) and I kind of took after him. Anyway, to get the full version of how I think my parents met, click here.
So where were we? The boy talk confidante. A few weeks ago, my sister Maryanne and I were having our usual boy talk when she asked me if had ever had that talk with dad. I honestly had not seen that question coming so I swallowed hard before answering;
“No. We never talked about boys with dad, he was always very overprotective. Plus I had gotten enough horror stories from mum about how men were untrustworthy creatures who just wanted to get me pregnant then dump me.”
“Mum can be a handful but dad was a bit more understanding Agie.” She replied amid laughter.
“Yeah. But you never got to his jealous and overprotective side.” I answered.
Long story short, I ended up telling her of one incident that dad’s jealousy took control.
When I was in my 3rd year of campus, an aunt of mine asked me to grace her bridal team and I was more than delighted because this was my first time being a bride’s maid. Apparently, movies had pumped my head with fairytales of how prince charming was waiting to notice me adorned in my make-up and bridal team dress, and boy oh boy! It was time for me to meet my Alejandro! Teren! Teren! The wedding was to take place in Nairobi, I was in Eldoret and that was way before WhatsApp groups became a thing. Technically, I became that bride’s maid who was never present at any of the wedding planning meetings. Due to the distance and crazy exams, I couldn’t make it to the fitting so I just sent my measurements to the bride via text.
A day to the wedding, I came in late from Eldoret so I was unable to get to the venue where the other maids were. My dress was at my grandmother’s house so I had to get up early to dress up at grandma’s house, then meet up with the rest of the bridal entourage at the church. That meant that I had to miss out on the professional make-up services that the other maids were to get and it really broke my heart. In my fairytale, prince charming was supposed to be blown away by my make-up and hair, but mostly make-up. I did manage to get to my grandma’s place on time and had planned to try my dress a few minutes before leaving for church when my cousin Tony, who was one of the groom’s men insisted that I try the dress earlier just in case the fittings were not OK.
Yeah you guessed it right, the dress was too small and I almost had a mini heart attack when it couldn’t move past my hips. I have had terrible luck with dresses as a bride’s maid. My last encounter was when my zipper decided to get spoiled on the morning of the wedding thank God, a good Samaritan among the bride’s relatives offered to sew it. Anyway on back to the story. Amid my panic attack, one of my cousins confirmed that he knew a tailor nearby so we hurried to his shop. This was around 7:30 am and I have to say kudos to the tailor, he was up that early? On a Saturday? After noticing the frustration on my face, the fundi a tall, dark and skinny guy, offered to fix my dress for free! Great right? No! He said that he would only do it if I gave him my number. Enyewe this gender will burn in the hottest chambers of hell. Attempts to get him to accept money (which was why he was in business anyway) instead, bore no fruits so I gave him my number, and voila! My dress was fixed.
Fast forward to the service, I finally met the rest of the bridal team and I couldn’t help but feel like the ugly duckling mbikos my make-up was too simple compared to theirs lakini yeng ni kusonga mbele kama injili ma fren. The wedding was a beautiful affair, I watched my uncle and aunty look into each other’s eyes lovingly as they exchanged their vows. We then headed to the reception. I forgot to mention one thing, apart from being a bride’s maid, I was also bequeathed with the daunting task of taking care of my fussy little cousin Caro. If picky was a person, it would be this little girl, but I took my job seriously like I always do, plus Caro loved(s) me so, win-win.
Towards the end of the ceremony, I decided to take Caro for a walk around the gardens because she was being fussy, kids though! We were enjoying the views of the beautiful flowers when a certain gentleman walked towards us smiling. He wore a suit similar to the ones that the groom’s men wore, but I was able to quickly tell that he was not in the groom’s team because his suit was a couple of shades darker.
“Hi Agnes how are you?” He asked as he stretched his hand for a greeting.
“I am fine, thank you,” I replied extending my hand out of sheer courtesy but shocked at how this stranger knew my name.
“I couldn’t help but notice you in the bridal team, so I made a point to say hi before I left.” He replied with a gentle smile.
“Aaaaw!” I thought to myself. Alejandro was here at last.
He then went to tell me his name (which I forgot) and intimate that a little birdie had told him my name and where to find me. For some weird reason, my fussy little cousin Caro stood there quietly and watched us converse (udaku ni mbaya Caro). This gentleman proceeded to tell me that he was a final year medical student and while we were vibing and giggling, I heard my father call me. Apparently, that nosy old man had been watching us from a distance, and suddenly realized that he needed me urgently. I forgot to mention that doc here was in a hurry, he had medical things to do instead, he was here giggling with a bride’s maid cum baby watcher.
The bible tells us to obey our parents and while I wanted to give the doc my number (doc was asking for it), my father’s calls kept getting louder and more persistent. It was one of those times where everything was happening in slow motion yet happening so fast at the same time. Plus, I was still in that phase of my life when I hadn’t crammed my own mobile number. Yeah, a third-year student who couldn’t find space in her brain for her own mobile number. Tragic! I struggle cramming numbers. On top of it, I didn’t carry my phone because I left my purse with one of the maids when I took fussy Caro for a walk. Let’s just say that I decided to obey my father. So I excused myself, painfully bid the doc goodbye, and held Caro’s hand as we hurriedly walked towards my father who by now, was standing next to his best friend having an animated conversation.
Based on how loudly dad was calling me, I figured that whatever he wanted was super urgent lakini niliskia wapi? That old man wanted me to go and ask his wife the time she was comfortable leaving the party. He could have just called her but no! He had to do what fathers do whenever they see a man approach their daughters. His fatherly instinct could bear the sight of another man making me laugh. I highly suspect that he was making jealous faces as he watched doc crack my ribs. But all is fair in love and war so dad, I have nothing against you, this dude could have been the love of my life but, it’s OK.
As for the doc, I have always thought that doctors are cool peeps so if you are reading this, cheza kiwewe hehehe!
Before nidedi nijenge na V8 BabaNyashinski