Some women come with wealth, and when they leave, depart with it all.

#PenningMyJournal. Decades ago, there’s a gentleman I worked with known as Otieno, he was tall, dark & handsome. Always foppishly smart, he loved popping Italian suits and whiffed premium colognes that made him centerpiece of every queen bee in see.

An alpha man, he attracted women bee to nectar and slayed them in erector. A man born for every cleopatra, he spared none caught in web.

Otieno had a lovely wife from Uganda, a lady from Baganda community, light-complexioned and business-savvy. His wife was known as Swai, she had come to Kenya in the early 1970s’. Her father was a member of parliament in Uganda and crossed swords with President Idi Amin over his economic policies.

Fed up with fallen economy, he encouraged his offspring to migrate to Kenya, a capitalist economy, to seek greener pastures. Swai was pretty and affable had many suitors and soon secured a job in a top parastatal as a secretary. There were few women in management at the time. OtIeno would meet Swai and swept her off her feet in sweet, head over heels. They soon tied knot in hot, a lovely wedding with big guns in pot.

Otieno & Swai bore offspring and quickly had a brood of four bundles of joy. The gods had bequeathed Swai golden fingers and anything she touched turned to gold in hold. She quit her job and fully plunged to enterprise. Her businesses quickly destined from bloom to boom.

Swai was the first crop African women who began hair saloons in CBD Nairobi in the mid 70s”, the beauty industry was in infancy. Her husband Otieno worked in East African Airways, and with it came the perk of free air tickets. She capitalized on his perks shuttled to London and imported exquisite hair steamers, hair dryers & beauty equipment and setup elegant shop. Women from high and sundry all flocked in droves.

Swai expanded her horizons in empire and opened two more boutiques. Her trendy gear was imported from Europe and wives of the Kenyan mighty were her clientele. She diversified into farming too, in the Rift Valley and grew maize large scale in whale.

At the time there was only one multinational bus service operating in Nairobi that was owned by a British lady known as Stagecoach. The late President Jomo Kenyatta had just liberalized the transport sector, the matatu business was born.

Hawk eyed she saw the window of opportunity that it offered for the business community and she bought two mini buses that operated between Jogoo Road and downtown. Swai, long and shot of it was one busy woman with several income streams, her family blooming in affluence.

Warm & fuzzy despite his warts and all, Swai ensured her husband got the best in quest. She bought him a snazzy beautiful jazzy German car & clothed him in style that would make every woman smile from a mile. He used his new trendy accessories to become the belle of every party in hearty to the chagrin of his loyal wife.

Walking over Swai, you couldn’t miss him in his native Luo party circles and plodded home in the grave shift hours high in spirit. He loved live bands and was a great dancer. To tell it as it is, Otieno often slept out sowing his wild oats wine women & song, a sex pot to the fairer sex.

She felt betrayed and hurt about his flirting & cheating, being a foreigner he was her all in all, her raison d’être for being in Kenya. Without family nearby to console & frustrated in a foreign land Swai vim and vigor decided to focus on her businesses. She often travelled overseas to replenish stock giving Otieno a window of opportunity to realize his fantasy in ecstasy.

Nothing is permanent and those who the gods love die young. Swai would one day prematurely meet her maker in a tragic accident as she went to her farm near Nakuru.

The death of Swai for Otieno was a bubble bursting fizzy pop, all the coke in bottle poured on table haste in waste. He was solemn, deep down knowing he hadn’t a clue in blue how to run the businesses.

After burying her, he dashed remarrying one of his romps who was a doctor. The wedding was grand and everyone in gossip how quickly he had found new love dove, a young trophy from his Luo community, her name was Sophy. Turn of the tide, the wind started drifting south from the beach to the ocean, turning choppy in floppy to be impeached.

Otieno had reached retirement age and retired in grace from his corporate job. He never used his retirement benefits wisely as he had to maintain Sophy’s flashy & splashy make believe lifestyle. With that came pressure on his income stream.

Thick and fast Swai’s businesses ventures began to crumble in fumble with mumble one by one like a pack of cards in shamble. Up against the wall he sold off his family heirlooms beginning with the mini buses, next Swai’s prized farm and then sold off the hair salon & boutiques. His new trophy wife Sophy was not adept in business and neither a good doctor. Otieno disrupted marital tensions erupted.

Sophy was younger than him by 25 years and she would soon realize his fears. A wolf in sheep’s clothing she had thrown dust into Otieno’s eyes, boarded ship because of his wealth, and would jump ship in dip. Sophy went to Australia ostensibly to visit a sick relative never to return, she left Otieno fraught in distraught splashing in rot. He heard that she had tied knot with a wealthy aging European.

The sages did say there’s nothing new in this Earth, every folly a repeat in defeat. Otieno’s time in her life was up and now a sacrificial pawn. Anyone here who has played chess?

What goes around comes around, the law of Karma is vicious and judicious. The wrath of God, Otieno went through the mill and is today forlorn in his sunset years worn to frazzle, a worry wart shadow of himself. No friends and dejected, he reminisces Swai everyday like yesterday. His kids neither visit him either, his litter were all bitter how he mistreated their mum & how their stepmother did it too.

This is life, Otieno became a shell living in hell. The big picture, his outward facade of success was really the efforts of his wife. Truth will out, in reality he was a dependent, a glider, Swai the real provider, the cider and tower of strength.

To each his own, in this life without dread, a man must you work for his bread, and not prey on spouse to give him his daily bread. Always assume you are alone even if you have a partner who loves you like Fanta, you never know tomorrow.

Do not leaf out of Otieno’s book for today tables have turned & many women are the real family providers. The male species are endangered now the bridegroom as they have chosen to take the back seat in defeat.

My fellow men take the bitter with the sweet, forewarned is forearmed. Wuod Baba again retorts, never be a dependent on your spouse, for you might end up a mouse. That is how the cookie crumbles….

#OkwiriMyJournalMyThoughtsMyWalk

Written by

Dan Okwiri

Afrohemian, Aesthete & Raconteur. Bonitas, Scienta, Disciplina.

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