By Njoks
Happy New Year! This is a new dawn and I’m hoping my life as a housewife will brighten up. Soon after the hectic Christmas festivities (where Jimmy feasted while I sweated), the hubby had to go back to work. Most of his friends were broke from all the Christmas partying, which was a good thing for me because it meant Jimmy came home early all last week.
On New Year’s eve, he called and asked me to meet him at a hotel in the city. His company was hosting a small end-of-year party for them and all his buddies were going to be there.
The problem with such office bashes is that the spouse is often the spectacle. Everyone in the office wants to size up their colleagues by the shape and look of the spouse so that if the wife is fly, smart and social, the guy’s ratings in the office shoot up the roof. If, on the other hand, the wife is matronly, conservative or hawkish looking and peevish, the guy’s self-image is severely hurt and he can no longer walk or talk like a cock in the office. The same applies to men whose wives appear harsh and in control, because it gives the impression that the guy is hen-pecked at home.
The same principles generally apply to women and their husbands too, so is it any wonder that most people prefer to leave their spouses at home, or not invite them at all for office bashes, unless they are spectacular?
Feeling out of place
I planned to be impressive because I felt honoured that Jimmy felt confident enough to show me off at his office party. And anyway, most of his friends at work had come to our wedding eight months ago. I suppose some of them wanted to see if I was the still the fairytale bride or if I had transformed into a matronly scarecrow.
The party was quite nice. There was plenty of food and drink for everyone, which was pretty cool. Jimmy’s workmates were pleasant and made me feel welcome. It also helped that I knew two of the ladies well so I was able to fit right in. However, as the evening wore on, I increasingly felt out of place. All everyone was talking about was the economy and office-related stuff, things that I no longer knew about. Matters began to rapidly descend downhill when Martha, one of Jimmy’s workmates, asked:
"How do you survive being a housewife? Don’t you get bored sitting all by yourself in the house doing nothing?"
Martha didn’t even notice the pin drop silence that swept over our table. One of her colleagues tried to shush her up but she misread this as encouragement and went on.
"I’ve never understood why a woman would want to leave her job to take care of her man. Jimmy, you should give your wife the freedom to go back to work."
My blood was boiling at that moment and, if I was a mzungu, my entire body would be a fiery red. Maybe she thought she was helping me regain my career independence but that was not the time nor the place.
All worth it
Quickly figuring out that, to avoid a confrontation, I needed to be smart with my reaction, I leaned over to Jimmy, gave him a very wet kiss in front of everybody then, with a sexy intonation in my voice, I told Martha: "I don’t mind keeping house for my husband because, when he gets back in the evening, he makes it all worth it."
