Awakened By A Call Boy: Tales Of An Insecure Woman
As I turned all over my king size bed in my well furnished bedroom; tears started to trickle down my not so chubby cheeks. My date, should I call him date? Am I kidding? Let me rephrase that if not for anyone else for my dying soul and be blunt instead of picking the politically correct words that would avoid the condemning look my parish priest will give me during mass this coming Sunday as I take the Holy Communion having not gone for confession!
This man, the man beside me this particular night was not my date; he has never been my date and will never be. However he is the constant male figure in my life at this moment, and I remember once telling him, if I do not get married he is the one I will run to for a sperm donation. Jack is a tall, dark and handsome man, his side burns ran across his cheeks in a smooth flowing way towards a well cut moustache that screams hotness! His body is masculine and well put together and his fitting t-shirts outline his abs, making his chest stand out! He knows how to treat a woman right and needless to say, he is great if not excellent in bed; all the right moves at all the right places. His unique yet flamboyant fashion sense is one that intrigues me as he has an eye for the expensive and fabulous lifestyle which I am all about. One would think he is from the hit TV series, The Rich Kids of Beverly Hills, only that this was Africa and his background…I do not know anything about his background!
Do not judge me, I already feel worse about myself and I can sense you searching for all the words you can use to describe a woman like me. Nonetheless let me admit that I don’t know Jack, but I call him every once in a while for a good time especially on those days that I feel crappy about my life and need someone to share my bed with. Is it wrong for me to have that one person to go to whom I am not in a relationship with?, I do not love and that there are no strings attached? My life fabulous since I have everything that money can buy, unfortunately there is a sad and lonely girl inside me and on the days she comes out, I prescribe some Jack and a chill bottle of red wine to avoid having a conversation with her.
This night was different, even with Jack around I felt lonelier and more sad. What do you do when you become immune to your medication? The only thing that cures the internal battle inside your body? Do you seek another prescription or do you persist with it until it one day works or do you learn to live without it? My dose, the man I hide from everyone around me said that he was in love with someone else and he wouldn’t continue seeing me. This scared me to death because our contract was never breached at any point before, and things were going on well until this night. A thousand questions crossed my mind, and with each I could feel myself shiver under the duvet we were both sharing.
Jack was my comfort zone, he never expected much from me as a woman and he was always there whenever I needed him. There were no arguments, no fights and most importantly no heartbreaks! As I walked down memory lane, I remembered the beautiful nights we had where we would act like sixteen year olds and get drunk doing the most outrageous things teenagers do! Our public life was an unbelievable one! We would run into each other we acted like strangers and most of the times we were had another company; which was the first rule of our contract, that we were allowed to see other people, do not confuse this for an open relationship which is a binding relationship that allows couples to seek other partners only for sex according to their agreement. Ours was a “situationship”, whereby you call when the ‘need’ arises as nothing was expected out of our partnership other than physical pleasure and it was a smooth happy ride.
The thought of loneliness disturbed me as I tried finding all the possible solutions.”Can I replace him immediately?”I asked myself, no this can’t happen because not everyone can be trusted with confidentiality a key component to our mutual agreement. If wishes were horses, I would have called Toke Makinwa my favorite Nigerian vloger to give me some ‘situationship’ advice. What about Oprah the sweet mother of television? All these thoughts were impractical but they felt better thinking about them. Then the still voice inside me made its way past the confusion and panic going on in my medulla oblongata at least the smart girl Mrs.Kamidi taught at the Kenya High School still existed in this moment. I had no alternative other than to surrender and have the most torturous but honest conversation with myself.
Just like most people, I figured out that I was really insecure and I had things that I depended on to keep me going. For instance, in school, all I had to do was get good grades in order to buy self esteem. At work I am doing excellent, my bosses love me, in fact they nicknamed me firstlady at the office because last month just as schools were opening and the reality of a new year was hitting all the heavy spenders of the Christmas holidays; I mean in a month where we Kenyans call “Njaa-nuary’meaning a month of hunger in reference to January. I had secured 3 top shipping and transport companies for Public Relations and Communications at my firm. When everyone was complaining about money I was bringing billions to my bosses and making a huge commission out of it. So I guess it was easy for me to say all is well. Without good grades and a great business for my bosses, I am nobody, in my opinion hence such recurrences of Jacks’ in my life. To other people it might be things such as the houses they own, or the vacation trips they can afford. We never ask ourselves if we are genuinely happy with the life we are living or we tagging along life acting as if all is well. Just like Jack, the job you hate so much but you have to do and pretend like it’s the best thing that has ever happened to you can tomorrow love someone else. I realized these things do not care about us, but we are convenient for the time being and so they play along having their terms and conditions applied. I am a lover girl, I love being in love and being loved, but look at the mess I got myself into, for the sake of killing my loneliness!
My soul had been crying out to me, it was void and dull and was trying to keep up with the appearance of the recent Gucci bag. My body was in a race with the entire world, keeping up with appearances in glamorous events such as the HR Awards 2017 Kenya by Ability Resources so that I could meet the who’s and who’s of the society. The tears intensified and I couldn’t control them, even my strong feminist speech vanished, my wealth was not in question and neither were my contacts; it was just Daisy! Who am I? Do the clothes I wear define the person I am? Does the man I sleep with add value to my being? Who am I? That was the question! I decided to write down the things that genuinely make me happy and was surprised at how they were cost sufficient! I am chocolate-skin Luhya girl who loves eating roasted maize by the road side, let alone talking to my mother in my mother tongue other than the acquired accent I gave myself in the bustling city of Nairobi. It was time to be honest with myself because our rent here on earth can be due anytime soon!
As I watched Jack toss around my bed like a gigantic baby, I decided that I was going to do better for myself and love myself unconditionally. I was going to take in the lessons that my call boy gave me!
By Daisy Wanzala
I am an enthusiastic Kenyan girl excited about life,love and living through writing, communications, fashion and culture!