Girl code: Where do super women come from?

My fellow women, where do some of you get the strength to get home and carry out house chores with super energy after a long day at work? I have been trying to understand where you all gather your powers from. Or is there a power pill that you pop on your way home after a long tiresome day at work? Some of you make some of us look really lazy!

Personally, once I leave the office every evening, I need motivation to walk home. The greatest motivation is my couch; I always can’t wait to get home and lie on it and just exhale as I throw my handbag to wherever because I know it doesn’t have any money anyway!

I have, however, encountered women who will get back home from a long day at work and still take on house chores like they had been enjoying a massage the whole day! I mean, just how do you pass by Mama Mboga's and buy sukuma wiki that hasn’t been chopped, claiming you will do that yourself? Given the chance, I would even buy sukuma wiki that has already been cooked.

Some women will get home late and still prepare chapati. Seriously? Just where do you get that kind of motivation? It takes me a week to prepare myself psychologically to cook chapati. You should see me walking into my house dragging my feet like I have steel boots on and I am from fighting Goliath. That’s the time I will drop on the couch and start sending everybody and anybody in sight. It’s even worse if I walk into the house carrying anything. Even a bunch of bananas at that time feels heavier than a sack of potatoes. I will spend the first ten minutes telling everyone how fatigued I am.

I have friends who will pass by the market after work, get home prepare dinner and multitask while at it. After preparing dinner, they will comfortably eat and do the dishes. Just where do some women get their strength from? How do you get home from work and start folding laundry?

The only part of my body that works at this time perfectly is my thumb as I scroll through the channels on television. Eating alone becomes an issue. Sometimes I wish my food would be blended and poured into my tummy without me having to lift a finger. I even think I get imaginary migraines as soon as I get home. I am always so irritable, I can even accuse the people around me of breathing in my share of oxygen.

There are those super mamas who have so much energy after work. If you board the same public transport with them, they will be talking all through either on phone or with their seatmates. They are even ready for any slight drama.

Our public transport vehicles are a sure recipe for drama any time. If a passenger is not whining about the speed, he or she is arguing with the conductor for hitting the window too hard. If the matatu is not overloaded, then there is a passenger who is demanding to alight where there is no bus stop. All these things make my head spin round and round. It beats me how someone will enjoy and follow all the drama to the end.

I, on the other hand, will sleep for the better part of the trip; waking up at intervals to see how far I am from home and to maximise on the time by sleeping heavily.

Sometimes, I make the sign of the cross and thank God that I am not married yet. You can imagine having to welcome a man home with pomp and glam after a long day! I am one of those women who will look at their husbands with droopy eyes when they come back and ask a trillion times if they are sure they want to eat.

Nothing annoys more than gathering the little strength left in you to warm food for a grown-up who will later look at you from the space above their eye glasses and say, “nimeshiba”. I swear I would faint!

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