Friday, 21 April 2017


I don’t even know how to describe her eyes
When she looks at me when I arrive at 6.30 pm
Sometimes Njeri says a word or two
Sometimes she’s just as quiet, like she’s absent
I know she’s counting days when she’ll say,

She ran down the business I had started for her
I did it for my undying affection for her
And she sunk it, thousands of shillings down the drain
Surprisingly, without any guilt or remorse
Tell me, doesn’t she have the capability to finish me?

The first thing she asks in the evening is money
The money I have toiled for in the baking sun
And if I beat the curfew, which I often do
She kisses me like she’s afraid of being seen
Like we are two teenagers hiding
And then she cooks that tasteless food of hers
I wonder where my money goes

At night she turns her back on me
She’s ever tired, and with a headache
I haven’t inquired if she’s cheating around
Though I am too scared to suspect she’s cheating
But I have heard of a young man
I know even the government introduced free education
And it’s illegal to deny a young man education as my Njeri does

I dread being doused with hot water
I dread being openly stripped of my dignity
As a respectable member of the society

And as a loving husband to Njeri

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