It’s evening and Kahawa Tungu is full of customers watching the sun go down over the ocean. It is one of those evenings when nothing can possibly go wrong, unless the devil himself invades.
Not when we have wazee (old men) around, and you know what sages say about palipo wazee (where old men are gathered); nothing goes wrong!
Just then, grumpy Saad strolls in and settles at the corner. And like a child who has been refused his favourite toy, sulks. His head is hung low and he looks like he is just about to cry.
I pour him a cup of kahawa tungu and the sagacious old men at the place encourage him to open up. “Toa Donge lako ba’ mdogo (unburden your heart young man),” they advise. “That is the only way to release stress, otherwise you will die from pressure. Besides, we are all men so you have nothing to fear,” he is cajoled to speak up.
Saad considers the offer and starts to pour his heart out.
“I am suffering!” he abruptly announces. Everyone is stunned, wondering whether something horrid has happened to his lovely wife.
“My wife denies me my conjugal rights. No matter how much I try to seduce her. She looks as though she might, but then denies me and faces the wall before warning that I should not disturb her. It’s driving me crazy,” he said.
Some fellows cannot help laughing at Saad. “He, he, he this is a small problem. Why didn’t you report to us earlier?” chuckles one old man.
The fellow who must be a sucker for false hope sits bolt upright when he hears that his ‘big’ problem indeed has simple solution. “Do we magically turn her into a raving sex addict of sorts?” playfully asks another old man, amid giggles.
“Kuwa mpole (calm yourself). If she becomes a nympho, young man, you will be back here asking for help to manage her,” another old man quickly warns. Instead, the wazee who are diagnosing the case want to know how much dowry he has paid and who his bride’s somo (matron of honour) is. After he gives the details, Saad is sent with a message to his wife’s somo.
“Go tell her you are demanding, as per the custom, her help in holding the legs of your stubborn wife or any other suitable alternative,” he is told.
I am told the last time that custom was invoked, none of us was born, but then again, we never heard of women who refused to honour their end of the bargain.
The fellow leaves and judging by the determination in his steps, we know sparks will fly. It later emerges that immediately he lodges a complaint to his wife’s somo, she hits the roof.
“Ati what? For how long has that woman been shaming me?” the somo asks, in a bout of rage.
They match all the way to Saad’s house where the somo storms in with a karate kick and murderous yell. The war is furious and after a while, somo emerges swinging a green paper bag over her head.
“These are all her panties, which she has been banned from wearing until she learns how to live with her husband. I’m going to throw them into the sea. If she gives you trouble, just call me!” the somo barks. True to form, Saad’s problem is solved. The following day, he reports that ‘normal operations’ have resumed in his bedroom.