I Went Ahead and Got Married

In the middle of those dreams you never want to wake up from was a grab on my waist and a gentle yet firm pull towards a warm surface which I later came to realize was a human body leading to my immediate awakening.

What followed was a tornado of kisses on my forehead and the rest of my face. Minutes later, an avalanche of peace pushed us both into deep sleep. 

It happened so quickly that I wondered if I was under the strongest of spells. It was want at first sight for him; as for me, I found myself debating on seemingly insignificant things like whether I liked chest hair. Yes! All of you who knew what I stood for prior to this assemblage of literature can go ahead and laugh.

We met on the job, my colleagues and I had visited his neck of the hood with very little hope of running into a hospitable and boisterous gentleman. His Luanda Magere frame led us to believe that he had spent his childhood somewhere in Nigeria with fufu as the main nutritional ingredient behind his condescending figure that towered over even my friend who until then, I had believed to be the tallest human on the planet. He told us to guess where he was from, and in an effort to point us in the right direction, he revealed his Caribbean accent which he often hides from the Maasai so that they can understand him more. This goes unrewarded most of the time unless he throws some of the Swahili words that he has picked up over the years.

On our first official date, I searched for the stern, unrelenting face that I had seen in Maasai Mara but didn’t find it. What I found instead was a sociable, charming, and easy going man. Prior to this, I had resigned myself to remaining single hence my body language wasn’t particularly alluring. Surprisingly my stiffness and lack of interest got him smitten.

His flirting came off strongly through texts. The wall of resistance that I initially built crumbled in the face of his witty charm, leading me to respond to his texts instantly, with an unconscious grin on my face. Then came the hand holding and other public displays of affection that survived my earlier gut reaction of pulling my hand away.

My man, as he instructed me to call him, made things very comfortable for me making it seem like I had known him forever. This was among the many reasons I jumped into the “yes” without a second thought when I was presented with an engagement ring. I now understand why women cry during such moments.  Additionally, I was drawn by the fact that I no longer had to put up a tough facade because I had found my protective refuge and a very muscular one at that.

Now here I am living with a man.

There was no wedding and don’t hold your breath for one.. I wish someone could carry out the legal process for me, because I don’t want things to become so serious and marriage-like when the papers finally label us as husband and wife. I moved in into an already furnished and organised home, a home where, I sit pretty as my dear husband does all the cooking and orders the house help to do the rest of the work. I have not yet found my purpose in this home, thankfully not even the issue of babies has been raised.

I was allowed to visit my current home, after my man met with my parents and my siblings who disgustingly and annoyingly referred to him as brother and son, justifying my assumption that, my family needed me out of their home badly. Luckily, my parents do not have knowledge on different sexual orientations otherwise they would have labelled me a “dike” because of my lack of interest in brothers; so their new son came as such a pleasant surprise that they welcomed him with wide open arms.

The very first time I visited him, it felt like a clandestine act that had people looking at me like a sheep that needed rescuing from a “wolf”. The second time I had mastered enough courage to return the stares, the third time, they had gotten used to me and I even got a few hellos from the females in the neighbourhood. Am now comfortable to the point where the unpleasant coitus that once felt like a hacksaw cutting through an indigenous tree has turned into something mystical. My friend calls it the “power of the mind”.

My mind is now settled on the new life that am currently leading. So far so good, because I still have a mind of my own plus a salary of my own and am not just a silent spectator to the life that we are now sharing. Thankfully, our is not what I have always imagined of marriage - Guantanamo bay. 

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