A Luo man will not let me marry his daughter because I drive a Probox
UREPORT
By
Zach Zachary
| May 20th 2018 | 2 min read
The other week, I had to attend to the earnest affair of the heart. So I found it prudent to approach my most trusted old man, Otoyo, to accompany me to the lakeside town of Siaya to meet my ‘to be’ parents in-law. Otoyo being the experienced chap in matrimonial matters, he announced the dos and don’ts to me with such passion of a professional. He analyzed every possible scenario and possible escape route if we were napped with cleaver propping questions of white haired in laws.
As the time for the ‘interview’ approached, I thought it to be time consuming boarding a matatu to the land of Jaramogi so I approached my good friend Karanja for his Miraa Probox to transport ourselves to Siaya. I armed myself with a few Kenyan currency incase my in laws needed some appeasing if one of the likely scenarios falls through. After a long journey through the hills of Chinkororo, Otoyo indicated that we were nearing our eventual destination and suggested that we take a break somewhere quiet and revisit our approach plan.
So we pulled our Toyota in front of the Obama restaurant and decided to reflect on our impending tactical war with the parents of the daughter of Siaya over a glass of cold tusker. After drowning two pints each of courage, we were on the road to face the ndombolo.
On reaching Atieno’s home, the old man approached us with cautious and measured steps and stood at a fair distance from where we stood and proceeded to study us from the soles of our shoes to the roofs of our heads as if he had seen hyacinth right in his very compound. He pointed at our Toyota with his lips and asked, “Is that your automobile?” when I nodded, he shook his white head and said, “I warned my daughter against inviting useless individuals into my compound”, and immediately called Atieno who emanated from the mad walled house.
“Do you realize what you have done to me my daughter?” he asked while pointing his walking stick towards us, “you have surely killed me this time round with this two good for nothing idiots… You are a daughter of Mac-Otieno, the son of the great Onyango and our daughters don’t marry Probox driving idiots” he advised the daughter of Siaya and instructed us to vacate his compound before he strikes us with the furry of lwanda Magere. We had nothing to do but to return the safety of Obama restaurant for vodka on the rocks.
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