“Mama Tasha, gas imeisha.” That is one text message I am so used to, but every time my house help sends it to me, I feel terrified. Why?
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The last time I got such a text was January 19. Pay day was two weeks away and I was broke. I knew that whatever was on the gas cooker when the gas ran out, would have to stay half cooked.
Three, the news always disorients me because am broke and stressed. But that is gas for you. It is super-efficient and clean energy, it makes work damn easy, but at the same time it ends so abruptly, it gives you a mini heart attack.
Many working mamas can relate to my story. So today I am on a rant about this gas business:
It always gets you off guard: Gas never warns you that it is about to get finished so you need to refill. It just 'kwishas'. I wish it came with an in-built indicator that warns you by beeping two days before D-Day that you need to refill. No. Gas is so rude and ill-mannered it just runs out with no warning.
It runs out mid-cooking: You are busy cooking your nice ugali, the water has boiled and you are almost in the climax of cooking, then kaput! It happens so fast, you have no time to hurry things up and salvage the ugali before disaster happens.
One minute you are kneading the mixture, the next minute the gas slows down goes quiet. How mean! Why ugali and rice? How come gas always gets finished when you are cooking heat sensitive foods like ugali and rice and not disaster-free foods like beef stew? Pure malice!
It always ends mid-month: Most of the shopping in the house is planned to last till end month. But there is something malicious about the gas that it always ends mid-month when you are super-broke and barely surviving.
News finds you in a stranded position: When the message comes that gas has run out, you are always in a tight spot like traffic or a heated meeting. For me, it is always bumper-to-bumper traffic with rain pounding. I just ignore the message. I mean I am frustrated dealing with goons on the road, I am famished and cranky and just want to be home.
Then the message comes... “Gas imeisha.” You always wonder with all this stress you are chewing on the road, the gas decides to get finished just when the stress levels hit fever pitch. That’s too hot to handle. Why can’t the message come when you are relaxed at the salon having a manicure or a massage?
Gas always runs out on a weekday: Why on earth does gas end on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday when you are bogged down at work? I mean, why can’t the damn stuff get finished on Saturday or a Sunday afternoon when you are cozying on the sofa? That way you will just walk casually to Njoro's Shop, sweet talk him, get the gas and sort him out end month. End of rant.
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