The Girl With A Brown Bag

It was a rainy evening. I got a lift from one of my colleagues but since she wasn’t going my way I had a distance to walk. Normally these walks home are the few minutes in my day that I really get to think about me. You know, my dreams and stuff like that. So, back to the rainy day. I am busy walking, my umbrella in hand and wondering how the distance appeared to be longer. Outfit of the day? For some reason(and Nairobi’s bi-polar weather), that morning had been sunny which made me decide to wear by little black dress.So, rain. I am wet. My feet are very cold and my dress decides it’s time to hug.

I’m busy walking and at the same time in a deep conversation with myself about how I am too frozen to cook tonight. My sister will have to understand.

Me: Maybe I could make noodles and drink the water or order something. It has been sometime since you treated you.

Brain: Which budget are we working with?

Me: I have around Sh.1500 in my account. I never YOLO. I should YOLO more often.

I am yet to decide when a car stops on my right. In my head i’m thinking the guy just wants more space so I move. He calls out and says, “Madam, ingia nikufikishe. Si unaenda hivi?”(Madam let me give you a lift, I am driving your way).

Now, those that know me know that I have two things that guide me everyday. One, fear of God and two, fear of Mrs.K who happens to be my mother. Doing like I normally do when faced with such situations I ask, ‘What would mother say?’ Not happy with the answer my head computes, I politely decline saying that I am already home(I still had a distance to walk).

The man drives away and I go back to my silent conversation. This time it mostly involves how I will talk my sister into cooking tonight because I was honestly not in the mood. If only we ate moods, right?

I walk for another ten minutes and again a car stops on my left this time. In my head I’m like, ‘What a day to wear this dress’ especially since the rain water had given it some other qualities. This time the driver is on my side of the road so it is easier to see his face. It was a man in his forty’s or so. He says that he has seen me at the shopping center close to my house a few times so he really did know where I was heading. At that moment, the rain seemed to fall faster. It might have been me looking for an excuse but I decided f@#k it and got in the car. I pushed all my paranoid thoughts away and let this stranger drive me home.

The car is warm. Maybe my irrational decision wasn’t so bad. It smells good too. I appreciate a man who smells nice. The small talk starts. He asks for my name which I give and immediately ask for his. I ask what he does for a living which he answers and asks about what I do. I was sitting shotgun so I had to ask about his wife and family(Mother says shotgun is reserved for a man’s wife or girlfriend). He has taken his family upcountry but they should be coming back soon. He asks if I didn’t feel cold and I tell him I like the walk to which he answers, ‘Not in the rain, especially for a beautiful lady like you.’ That statement changed everything. My mind went,’ He’s about to make you regret this ride.’ How mistaken I was.

We get to my place and I am gathering my bags saying thank you like a thousand times. He says it was his pleasure and I open the door to exit. This is where he says,’ What do you want to eat? I’ll buy you anything’.

Listen, never offer me food!!! I know I should and I have been brought up to be a lady who declines politely. There is also some other part of me that is no lady. Food is it’s trigger-and definitely stronger than me. I am not allergic to anything which makes the situation worse. I never say no to food. Once in a wedding food ran out because I was too generous passing the plate to everyone else and I went home hungry. That’s when my brother told me to never say no to food. Feed yourself first. Kinda selfish but I’m never hungry.

Anyway, I ask,

‘Are you seriously offering me food?'(I had to double check. You don’t play with these things.).

He says, ‘Yeah, anything you want. Pizza okay?’

My head: Yaaaasss!!!!

Me: Anything is fine, really.

Lesson: Prayers find a way to give you an answer. I didn’t cook that night.

Hold on though, this is just part one.

He reverses the car and starts driving towards Pizza Inn. In the car, small talk resumes.

He asks, ‘Who do you live with? Husband?’

I say, ‘I can’t really say husband.’ Who marries their sister anyway.

He says, ‘Oh,boyfriend. You young people these days.’

At this point two things could have happened. I could have acted like a normal person and corrected him or I could have said yes, implying I had a boyfriend. What’s fun in being normal anyway. I giggle instead. He assumed whatever he assumed.

He says, ‘Who pays the rent?’

I say proudly, ‘We cost share. Everything in the house is split 50/50.’

He looks at me like I just transformed into an anime and asks,’You mean you live with a guy and he does nothing for you?’

I defend my mythical creature. ‘Who says he does nothing?’

He says, ‘A guy who lets you pay the bills is not a man. You are living with a boy. Let me advise you, that half rent you pay can get you a bedsitter or a hostel. Move out and live your life because with him there is nothing you’ll do.’

I say, ‘He did not force me, I insisted on doing half. If he buys food, I’ll buy electricity tokens.’

‘Nonsense!’, he shouts. ‘Don’t go saying such stupid stuff to people. They will take you for a big fool, trust me.’

At this we are already at Pizza Inn. We walk in in silence. His words have shocked me so much that I forget it’s raining. I mean, What The F@#K!!! He asks which size I want and I tell him my boyfriend has a huge appetite and he likes his Pizza with a cold Coke. He pays for everything and we pick a table to wait for our order.

He continues, ‘Let me tell you. A man is supposed to be the head of the family. He is lying to you, making you spend your money. What does he do with his?’

I say, ‘He pays rent and stuff.’

He says, ‘I am the one telling you. He has some girl somewhere for whom he spends what he saves after paying his half. How old are you?’

’25’,I say.

‘You are not getting any younger. This man, sorry, this boy is say the same age as you. In ten years, you will be 35. At that age for a woman no one will want to marry you. For him it is different. He can get a 20 year old college girl and marry her. Give him an ultimatum and let him marry you or leave him. With all this, you still give him sex?’

I don’t talk about sex in public- such a lady. So I smile shyly. Order up!

When we are back in car, he does not start the car immediately. I am so offended for my mythical boyfriend that I just want to go home. He has more for me.

‘Do you hear what I am telling you? With this boy of yours, your work will be giving birth to his babies and getting fat and ugly. You will never invest in anything because you are busy using your salary on him. He should be taking care of you. Your money should be for your leisure not bills.He makes you spend your money then at the end of the day you just lie there and give him sex’. -WHAT?!!

Louder that I should have been I say,  ‘You know you talk like he is making me do all these things. I chose to pay bills because I can afford it. I am not dating him for his money. I can do without his money. He is much more than that. And by the way, who says sex is only for him?’

He is driving now.

‘All I am saying is this guy feels very lucky. Speaking like a man myself, he tells his friends how he has a doormat at home. He does basically nothing but still gets sex. You cook for him, right?’

I say, ‘I eat too.’

‘You are not listening. Get rid of this guy. If we were somewhere else I would stop and you’d call your friends and ask then if you should dump him. Trust me, even they see how this guy is using you. Just leave him and get yourself a man like me.’ There it is. How wrong he was about my friends.

Now I am really pissed. ‘We are not married. Why should he be taking care of everything in the house yet I live there too and earn as well?’

‘If you had a man like me, anything you want you’d get. Sex is the same, right? What you give him is what you’d give me and I would take care of you. If you want, you’d never cook. I’d have them deliver food to your door. If not me just get someone else but leave him.’ Poor boyfriend of mine.

‘Men like to feel needed. They want to feel like they have someone looking up to them. Let me tell you the truth, this guy is with you only for the sex. There is nothing else he gets from you. I swear he even gets more sex from a younger girl out there who he takes shopping.’*

Wait, what just happened? How could he insult me and my beautiful future boyfriend all at once and make it sound like he just sneezed?

I decide to shut up. He takes me home, asks for my number(the audacity of this man) and I leave for my house with my huge Pizza in hand. Normally, this situation would have made me sad. I’d feel guilty for lying and at the same time feel some type of way for accepting food from a stranger. However, I couldn’t wait for my sister to come home and help me destroy the Pizza as I told her how we got it.

Lesson: some men are still apes. They take women to be sex objects whose place is in the kitchen. Their work in these men’s eyes is popping babies and looking pretty. Well Beyonce knew what she was saying in Run the World.