Janice was getting married. It was an arranged marriage… sort of? He was the son of a friend of her father. She wasn’t familiar with him because he just got back from abroad. Apparently he was reeeeaaallly handsome and a doctor to boot. He was wealthy and ready to settle down.
SHE. DIDN’T. BUY. IT.
There had to be something wrong with him. He was too perfect. According to her father, he and his dad went waaaay back and since his friend retired back into the country after decades abroad, they had rekindled their bromance and now wanted to be family. It was just convenient that his son was moving back soon as well. So, that was that! Her ass!
Though, to be completely honest, she wasn’t as against it as she probably should have been for a variety of reasons. Her father was your typical traditional African dad. He was veeery strict, especially on his kids and specifically his daughters, as most African dads were. Dress decently, don’t stay out late, don’t drink, no boyfriends….you know, the usual…
So growing up, she and her sisters always had this mentality of not making any waves. However, she was pushing 30 (she was 27) and she still lived at home. It was out of choice because it was convenient, again. But she had a good job and a good social life. This gave her some independence and frankly, after she landed her employment her father didn’t really try to control her per se. But there were still things that were unacceptable to him, while she was under his roof.
For instance, No sleeping out (at a man’s house. However, work trips and sleepovers with female friends were different in the sense that they had a period of planning so they had a heads up for days at a time, usually. And of course, she could always lie and scheme to stay over at a boyfriend’s house, but even though her dad didn’t probe too hard on her whereabouts, as it was a topic that made him uncomfortable, she never had the guts to do it. There was just this tacit understanding, veeery unspoken, that it was something you just didn’t do) and secondly, no coming home drunk. It was considered disgraceful behavior and he didn’t even tolerate it from her older brother who had already moved out and gotten married. It should also be said that her father (and the family, of course) was SDA, and a deacon too. Hakuna mchezo!
However, the last of her close friends had just gotten married and all the rest of them had at least one child. This reality had inspired some, *Cough! Cough!* recklessness on her part. Johnny (Yeah, it’s a very cliché name for the type of guy who would cause this kind of fiasco) her second boyfriend at the time, was a very regular guy. An office worker like herself, a typical bachelor, with a bunch of habits she knew her dad would hate. He was a drinker and a bit of a slob with a really laidback attitude that could get a little annoying at times. Actually, it was because of this laidback attitude that she dated him, because, to be honest, she was a little high strung and stiff. Also, she refused to sleep with him (she was saving herself) and the day after she told him this he still called her back.
They had been dating for almost 3 years by the time this was happening and while she thought this was going really well she still held a few reservations about taking him home. Honestly, it would probably have been better to end it and look for a better match then, but she was too lazy to start over and too comfortable in the arrangement .
So when her senses evaporated with that friend’s wedding, all her caution followed closely behind. She had one or two friends who were single moms. And a whole bunch who were cohabiting with some guy and they were cool with this whole, “let whatever happens happen” approach. These are the friends she went moaning to. And the blank slate she was decided to go with the flow.
When she slept with him, it was during the day one Saturday a few weeks after the trauma so that she would be back home before seven, to avert any attention. Johnny had been surprised but pleased with the development and afterwards she went home frazzled and disillusioned by the whole event. Honestly, it hadn’t been all that great and she didn’t feel that different. Just a little guilty and later she noticed that she had done this on a Sabbath and the thought crossed her mind that this may come back to bite her, but she brushed it off as paranoia. She slept with him once more over the course of the week that followed but after that he sort of stopped calling. She didn’t notice right away because they didn’t call each other very often anyway.
However a few weeks after this, right around the time she started to notice the silence, she realized her period was late. Her heart stopped and all her melanin left her. Terror!!! What would her father say? What would her mother say? What would her father do? She was beside herself with panic. She took a home kit test at a friend’s house and it was positive. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wanted to kick herself. How could she be so careless?!? That Saturday she was back in church, silent tears in her eyes. “Aki woiye mimi.” Alikua tu anajuhurumia.
She couldn’t reach him. All her calls and texts went unanswered. She tried going through his friends and it came to nothing. Her work became a mess and people were starting to notice. When she finally, hair standing, took herself to his workplace, half crazy, he finally faced her. And what did he say?
“Am sorry, I have another girlfriend and I love her. We are engaged and am going to marry her. Please toa hiyo ball. Ntakupea doh ya hiyo procedure, lakini please harakisha.” She recalled these words as she sat petrified in her room, regarding unseeingly, her options. In front of her was a bottle of sleeping pills, a knife and the number of some quack he had just texted her, who would probably kill her on his table anyway. She was beyond crying at this point. Abortion? No! She was against it completely. But the alternative? Telling her parents about this?? She put her head in her hands.
But just then, she got a call from one of her married friends. Apparently she had heard through the grapevine and she wanted to meet. Janice was a zombie when they finally got together. She couldn’t see, feel, hear or taste anything. Once she got the gist of it, her friend was very understanding, and unlike a certain douchebag, decided they would go see proper doctor about it first. The first thing he did, the moment they told him their predicament was to test her properly first, especially after he heard she used a home kit. When the results came back and they were negative, she didn’t hear him the first time and she didn’t believe him the second time.
It was a new lease on life!!!! Never again!!! So what if he had been cheating on her the whole time they were together? Good riddance to bad rubbish!!! She was too relieved to be heartbroken and he was a piece of sh*t anyway. She was decidedly celibate from now on. In fact, if even if her father set up an arranged marriage like in the olden days, she would do it. She was done with the dating scene. And as if answering this wish, that’s what happened. Her father asked her if she was willing. (he was strct, not a tyrant!)
That was why she was getting married, willingly. However, while he looked good in person and on paper, she couldn’t relax about him. Also, even though he was very attractive, she felt no chemistry with him. Like he was polite and friendly with her whenever they met but there was no physical attraction. But then again, the new and improved Janice 2.0 who didn’t give a flying sh*t about romance and just wanted a good arrangement that she didn’t need to think about for herself, had the perfect excuse for this.
Maybe she just wasn’t his type. Even though they both agreed to get hitched, they were still strangers. The relationship would develop over time. No rush. And besides, because she herself was somehow not particularly attracted to him either, she was sure she could handle any misbehavior or even infidelity as long as he didn’t do it publicly and as long as he carried out his responsibilities. I mean, how bad could whatever he was hiding be?
This flippant dismissal of his weirdness came back to bite her as she, a year and a half older and into the marriage and heavily pregnant stood at the door of her bedroom stock still and staring stupidly at her husband and another man she recognized as a supposed “business partner”. Thoroughly shocked, she could only look on dumbly as he and the man hurriedly separated and covered up.
Once again she found herself sitting in the church pew, silent tears in her eyes. “Aki woiye mimi!”