OPINION: No texts, no flowers from these sons of Beelzebub

Valentine's came and went in a puff, leaving some of us feeling like it was visiting day back in high school-the kind where everyone else's parents arrived with goodies- yummy mandazis, fried chicken, chapatis, and big bottles of soda, while some of us stood on the sidelines, hoping against hope that our parents would show up. Maybe they'd bring nothing, but at least they'd show up. The heartbreak of watching everyone else receive love while you stood empty-handed hit hard. You'd find yourself questioning everything: Do my parents love me? Am I even their child? That kind of pain sticks with you for life, making you dread visiting days forever. And guess what? It could get worse when you later find out that, instead of visiting you, your parents went to see your sibling instead. The betrayal and the pain is unmatched. That's exactly how this past Valentine's felt for some of us. There were so many sweet-talking clowns calling me nonstop before February 14th, making endless requests for my time, hinting that I should break curfew just to spend the evening with them. But when the day finally arrived, not a single one called. No texts. No flowers. Not even a miserable single-stem rose-like my stepmother calls it. Absolutely nothing. This lack of effort had my father deeply concerned. I came home, went straight to bed, and all he could do was lament, "What did these people do to my daughter?" While other corporate baddies were out there flaunting their flowers, chocolates, and love everything, my father was holding an emergency family meeting over my lack of gifts. "Men are idiots," he said. "I keep telling you to stop being too available. Now look, not one of them did anything for you. But I'm sure they were out there with other girls." And with that, the lecture began."Next time, don't pick their calls. Don't even spare them a minute of your time. These people don't deserve you." I slept through most of it. But at 1 am, he was still venting to my stepmother about it. The man was genuinely worried. He had gone from telling me to ignore men to worrying that I will grow old, grumpy, and alone. On that day, I took myself out, ate fries, and went home to sleep. Considering I was already floating on cloud nine, I didn't need a man to bring me back to earth. While my Valentine's Day was as tragic as it could get, my friend's was off the charts-literally. Because she was climbing walls. Yes, walls. My beautiful, intelligent friend, the kind you'd never imagine would get caught in nonsense, recently became single. So, when she got an invitation from a Sugoi boy she had only met once, she figured, "Why not?" No one wants to be alone on Valentine's-except maybe me. First, this man lied about being single. He even downgraded his wife to 'baby mama', because apparently, that's a thing now. They went out, had fun, and after several glasses of wine and a little too much wiggling on the dance floor, the chemistry was undeniable. Nairobi men have a sport they excel in: lying their way into women's hearts-and lips. The night ended at his place, but not on his bed, or so she claims. And then came the morning drama. Dear small, slender ladies like me, why do we always inconvenience ourselves for these sons of Beelzebub? At 8 am, there was a knock at the door. The man jumped up in a panic and ushered my friend out through the kitchen's back door. Hell had broken loose. His 'baby mama', who had been blowing up his phone with calls and video calls all night was screaming at the top of her lungs, calling him all sorts of names. So there my friend was, standing outside like a thief in the night. There was no exit at the back. The wife was waiting at the main gate, ready to unleash her wrath. If my friend attempted to leave that way, she'd either lose her teeth or end up in a hospital. She's way too pretty for either outcome. So, what was the solution? She climbed the neighbour's wall. Yes, my bootylicious friend somehow scaled a concrete fence and used the neighbour's gate as her exit. Men are Kube!

OPINION: No texts, no flowers from these sons of Beelzebub

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OPINION: No texts, no flowers from these sons of Beelzebub

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