The good men of this universe

Yesterday I affirmed to me what I had been knowing all this time. I revere the sanctity of marriage so much. In fact, I believe I am one of the few guys who might not participate in groin related engagements with your wife despite her constant luring appeals. That stand also applies to your girlfriend. I believe when I will come around to have one of my own, you will keep your distance too. People from Kisii have a pretty uncomplicated and easy to understand way of dealing with people who meddle with their bedroom affairs. It does involve the grim reaper, machete and an unattached body part somewhere in the process. Of course that was a heads up, not a threat.

So back to yesterday. I was traveling to town and happened to sit next to a lady with some kid. Or should I say: I sat next to a kid with her mother. The kid was wailing seriously. I kept wondering what must have been pinching her bottoms with that kind of consistent determination. Being the gentleman and respecter of married women, I kept silent as the screams ate into the strong perseverance layers that I had stashed in my mind. The other passengers must be unfaithful to their spouses. They told the mother to cool her kid down. One of them demanded to know what was wrong with the kid. I mean, who asks somebody’s wife questions about a child he did not father? That’s adultery, ay?

 Even as the kid gave a spirited fight with kicks, most of which I was on the receiving end, I never turned to look at the woman and point it out to her. The mother got more impatient and lashed out a slap. The screams went a notch higher.

With that short trip folks, I confirmed that I passed the I-respect-people’s-property test. I think I should be appointed to work with nuns as the massage therapist or something. (I wonder if that post exists…). They can be assured that my hands will touch with no traces of lustful ambitions; it will be filled with intents of fulfilling the physical requirements of the lovely sisters of the cloak. My pals mistakenly claim am in #teammafisi. Am not. If I am, then am the team’s ambassador in #teamwehavemorals.

Being the good boy that I am comes with lots of trials and tribulations. I was subjected to screams and wails while foregoing the opportunity to vent out my anger. All that was served with kicks which really dirtied my shirt. You see that’s the cost of being good. I am required to take it in with a smile. But the world should be considerate to beings that have chosen this way of life. Please do not let your kid disturb everybody’s already stressed out day with higher than normal noise levels served with kicks that end up making clean shirts dirty. And kids, do not cry in front of adults, some of them bite… That went down as one of my worst 20 min matatu rides. It should take heart because it does not come anywhere near eldoret-kisii journeys (a story for another day).

Boom box play list:

Good man – India Arie.