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Men only: My prediction for end of curfew, lockdown

Readers Lounge By Tony Mochama
Three Saturdays ago, Wanda, 40, got a healthy toi and named him Isaac (Photo: Shutterstock)

We are getting to the end of the ‘lockdown’ period of Covid-19.

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In fact, I want to make a bold forecast and say that, next Saturday, June 6, the president is going to lift the inter-county lockdown, lift the curfew a week later (June 13). By June 15, children will be required to be back in school, and by June 20, both local airlines and SGR will be back on track. When this happens, please don’t write me thinking I have insider information from State House.

Remember a couple of years ago, when supporters of Rao used to say "wakiapisha, tuna-apisha"? It’s the same reasoning I’m seeing at play here when it comes to us and Covid-19.

Now that America has lifted its lockdown across 47 states, learners are being allowed back in school all across Europe, and India has resumed local flights across the sub-continent, pia sisi we’ll follow suit. Starting next Saturday, June 6!

I saw my upstairs neighbour, Itindi, complaining about a past serious ‘boyfriend’ asking her when Hiroshima was atom-bombed, and she said she found that very boring ... Well, on June 6, 1944, the Allies invaded Normandy, which was the start of the Liberation of Europe from Adolf Hitler’s Nazis.

I’m telling Beryl this for her/your next ‘boring’ boyfriends, because you cannot date serious men, then expect to keep their interest by just forwarding memes of Kisii wives throwing Kung Fu kicks at their hubbies.

Wakina Wanga aside, I want to finish this month where we’ve been celebrating women during coronavirus by telling you the encouraging story of my friend who recently had an existential triumph during Covid-19.

Let’s call her Wanda (because we’ve met Wendys and Gwendolyns, but have ye ever met a Wanda woman?)

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‘I was once pregnant. Ten years ago, in 2010.

I miscarried, but I was not very worried. After all, I told myself, I can always get another baby.

To say the truth, I was even a bit relieved. I was 30 and jobless for a long decade – and the guy I was with, whom we soon broke up with, was not a serious man.

In 2012, I got a case of fibroids, which had to be removed in hospital.

Then in 2013, I fell in love with this man called Paul, who in 2014 took dowry to my parents in ushago.

All of 2015, we were quite regular in our sex life, now that we were living together as man and wife.

But we were not consciously shooting for a baby at that time, even if I had turned 34 by that time.

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We are four siblings in my family, all of us girls, spaced exactly three years apart. I am the first born.

In 2016, the sister who follows me called Jane got twins, two boys (although the father turned out to be a married liar, and ran away when she was four months pregnant).

I panicked, and the rest of that year, really tried to get my diet and timing right to get expectant. Nothing!

Come 2017, the sister who follows Jane, she is called Kate, got a beautiful baby girl called Kylie, with her colleague at work, who became her fiancé.

Now life at home was getting desperate, with even the process of trying to make a baby so anxious, often Paul could not even perform.

By 2018, when Lorna, the 28-year-old baby of our family got a child with her hubby, a bouncing baby boy, I was envious.

And ashamed! And bitter with God, and even my man.

I knew I was infertile, or something, but early last year, maybe out of spite, asked Paul we do a check-up.

He was confident the problem was me, as he now often put it, but turned out he too  was shooting blanks!

I slowly offloaded him, our relationship had deteriorated over the years, till he’d get drunk and call me ‘barren like Sahara Desert,’ as I re-connected with an old flame, now a deputy headmaster in Embu.

Mid last year, we went to the Fertility Point for consultation– and his sperm count is above average.

We started fertility treatments, and in early August, I conceived. We were excited, but a bit scared.

But we continued our clinic visits, even though this last trimester we were worried because of corona.’

Anyway, Wanda*, who is almost 40, got a healthy toi three Saturdays ago. They named him Isaac.

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