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Creative Nonfiction African American Drama

She looked at her children and cried. She wasn’t sure how she was going to pick up the pieces again. How was she supposed to move on? Start again? Raise the children? But deep down she knew this was her bed and so, she had to lie in it.

*Wambui was sixteen when she married her husband *Wanjau. She was head over heels, smitten by his charm. The smooth talker knew just the words to lure her and she fell-deeply. They lived in the same village in Kiambu County with tree canopies separating their homes. Wanjau was forced to wake up very early, before the chirping birds to go farm. He was overworked and there was no one to save him from the misery he was put through by his step-mother. But he had a plan.

Wanjau hardly had any free time but when he did, he took up any casual jobs that came his way. His parents had died while he was very young and was left under the mercies of his step-mother. He was the family’s donkey as his step-mother’s children attended school.

In the evenings before he retired to bed, he sneaked to go meet his beloved at their usual spot down the stream. Wambui occasionally brought her beloved any food she could find in their house (this was Wanjau’s saving grace because his step-mother hardly gave him food). He was malnourished; anyone could tell from his cheekbones that had caved in, his feeble legs that barely supported his height, not to mention his protruding ribs. 

The love birds spent most of the evenings together; talking about sweet nothings as they gazed into each other’s eyes pledging their allegiance. They were dazzled to see how the day gave way to the night before they both went back home.

One evening, Wambui sneaked out with a bowl of githeri to go meet her beloved. But something seemed odd that day. She couldn’t place a finger on it. Her heart kept pounding. She waited for half an hour wondering what had taken her beloved that long. She knelt down and prayed (prayer had always been her safe haven).

Every day of that month, Wambui went down the stream but her beloved never came until one day she stopped going. There were no phones to use in those days and so if someone didn’t show up at the agreed time that was your cue to bounce.

One day, five months later, Wambui was outside her mother’s compound going about her usual daily chores when she suddenly, saw a man walk towards their compound. A tall, slightly built man halted at the gate and signaled Wambui to come over. She cautiously approached the gate. She took a closer look at the figure and in dismay exclaimed, “Wanjau, what do you want? If you knew you had lost interest in me, you should have said so”.

She tried to calm herself down before she insulted him. “I understand you don’t want to see me but that’s why am here. I had saved up some money and decided to escape that Jezebel before she killed me. I got a job and I think now I am ready to come get you”, Wanjau meekly responded.

Wambui knew the hardships her beloved faced in the hands of his step-mother. She remembered him talking about his grand plan but he never shared all the details. It dawned on her that this was the grand plan he had always referred to-escape. Wanjau got uneasy and Wambui quickly figured why. So they disappeared into the nearby bushes.

Five months was such a short time to transform someone-physically. He didn’t look anything like the village boy she’d known all her life. If this is what money could do, then she wanted a taste of it too.

Wanjau gave his beloved a fifty shillings note which she took joyfully and started making plans of transforming the village girl in her. He promised to come back for her then left.

Five months later, Wanjau, came back to the village and asked Wambui to join him in Nairobi. All the stories she had heard of the city were now unfolded before her eyes. Her mother had always known that as soon as she was sixteen or seventeen she would get married. Girls from her village were married off at a very young age some even younger than Wambui.

They arrived in Mathare, one of Nairobi’s informal settlements. Wambui got struck by many people, shops, and vehicles. As they passed the busy streets, she dragged behind to glance at the shops; from food, clothes, shoes, she had never seen so many shops. They arrived at Wanjau’s house- her new home.

Nothingness

Her beloved’s house had a bed and two plastic chairs. This was nothing like her home back in the village. Wanjau didn’t have much. He quickly dispelled her worry, “surely a home is not built in one day. Now that you are here, you can help me turn this shack into a home”.

The following day, all bright and sunny, Wanjau took Wambui to the market and showed her a few other shops. He assured her that it would take her some time before she adjusted to the city life and rightfully so.

Skeletons in the closet

Wanjau never disclosed to Wambui that he had another wife who was pregnant with his child. But sooner or later, Wambui was bound to find out. When he first came to Nairobi, an old friend hosted Wanjau for two months. He met his wife through the friend who asked Wanjau to move in with her. His wife didn’t know about Wambui either.

Wanjau deeply loved Wambui. In their first year of marriage, everything seemed normal and Wambui had adjusted to the city life. There were days Wanjau went missing and the pattern continued for a while. One day, she randomly confronted him about his pattern.

Wanjau held his head with both hands and bowed in shame as he came clean with Wambui. He confessed to having another wife. Wambui did not fight her tears. She sat on their wobbly bed looked at him and broke the news of her pregnancy.

Time what have you done?

Wanjau grew to become a successful businessman. He relocated both his wives from Mathare. His first wife was moved to Umoja estate while Wambui moved to an estate in Pangani area.

Years went by, both Wambui and the first wife had children- the first wife had five daughters while Wambui had eight daughters and two sons.

One fateful day, Wanjau got sick and months later, succumbed to the illness. His widows met and agreed to raise their children together as well as manage their late husband’s properties.

Wambui was a food vendor at a local market while the first wife was a shopkeeper. But a week after Wanjau’s burial, his step-family stormed the city and took over Wanjau’s properties. Wambui was so distraught that she wished she had stayed back in her village in Kiambu.

The widows joined hands to find a solution to their common problem. They agreed they were not going to let the bloodsuckers get to them. They were least bothered about the properties as much as protecting their children from the imbeciles.

Karma

It wasn’t long before karma did her dirty work. Members of Wanjau’s step-family got sick- first the step-mother and later her two sons. After ailing for some time, all three kicked the bucket. Wanjau’s step-brothers left behind their wives and children.

Despite ‘having it all’ the wives struggled to make ends meet.

Wambui and the first wife went through the twists and turns of life together. And even though they hoped that Wanjau had told them the truth from the word go, they knew that he may never be there to atone for his mistakes. This was their bed, and so they lay in it. They brought up their children who grew to be the apple of their eyes. Wambui and the first wife are both ‘elderly’ and happy that all their children made something out of themselves.  

November 30, 2020 06:15

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