The humdrum that greeted the announcement
might have spoken volumes. Perhaps to those who love subtle insinuations could
have read from the announcer’s sneered mouth pulled back Mwende[1]
style. Those who like direct confrontation like Mamaji in her late forties and
too big for her age ‘nktted’. Loud and clear enough, following through with her
eyelids and pouting her voluptuous cheeks enough to get the reverberating ‘nkt’
loud and clear you would think the microphone caught her protest and amplified
it. Probably for the men in the small tin church who understood the intrigues
of women and had their interests at heart, kept quiet as pastor Ken did. Hoping
the episode would die over quickly perhaps, finding the delay would make the
service longer and especially now that Muthutho time was already over or
bungled out like the politician. Hoping the episode would die over knowing the
details will be recounted over lunch at home. Hoping the incident would be over
because this was a women issues to them.
The tin house hosted the lanky woman making
announcements at the altar after mass. “Next week, the youth group will wash
the church and do general cleanliness… blah blah blah, there will be a
fundraising for the blah blah blah, Blah’s daughter and Blah’s son have
announced their intentions to be married and blah blah blah. And lastly there
will be a mothers’ Union meeting for the inauguration of the new chairlady.
Blah blah blah.
And like the humdrum doing the announcement
a handshake women started up. Men ignored and the concerned parties threw daggers
at each other, just luckily they did it with eyes. Pastor Ken rose up and
gladly ended the service traditionally doctrinal to the latter that one could
have said the words for him were they not afraid to be sacrilegious. And the
churchgoers poured out to the scarlet afternoon as clear as the depth of the
sea.
Ma’ Akinyi came out into the light and
caught its glare in the folds of her brow reacting to its gaudy rays. She moved
towards an umbrella tree where children were playing oblivious of the sanctity
that surrounded them. They were hitting at car tyres looking for those with
alarms that would blare out loudly (more ignorant of the sanctity) and
would send the young-ones screeching
away accusing one another of the offence. She stood there scanning the crowd
and fanning the thick folds of her neck with the loose ends of her scarf which
was more of a prop rather than a functionality. She spotted Ma’Wafula and
beckoned waving frantically her scarf which was no longer a prop but a functionality.
They smiled at each other conspiratorially.
‘Did you see her face when she heard the
announcement, you could have though she was UhuRuto on winning the Kenyan presidency,’ started off
Ma’Waf. They did their African laugh that goes, hehehe huu and was capped off
with a high five just for kicks. ‘And to think that she had stolen money when
she was a treasurer and all the other accusations against her, that she won,
mhh,’ added Ma’ Akinyi.
Ma Kimani had always maintained an aura
above the din of gossiping women. She was one woman with an upstanding husband,
intelligent children and a car. You might take this for granted but driving off
after church was a prestige in Busia town. Having all those women wave to you
as you left them behind gossiping how big and educated you think you are, or
having one of them come over to your window and feign a smile begging for a
lift and letting her cram up with the children or even sympathizing with the
pastor who complained that the offering was not enough to fuel his vehicle in
light of sky rocketing oil prices when he had to go round in his car burying people
is quite a privilege. She was upstanding to degrees afforded her competition
who were mostly wives to drunks who could never make it to church, mothers to
sons who trailed at school and had to walk the dusty roads home. Ma’ Kim was
going towards her family Toyota ‘nissan’ (Kenyan for Van) when she heard the
gossipers. She turned and reproached them as she always did of people who
always complained and did nothing to improve their lives. ‘I told you people
that if we want good leaders we must do more than just talk. We must elect
leaders of integrity who we can entrust our mothers’ Union. And that must be
done when voting and not all talk and when time comes we vote without thinking
and complain complain complain like #kot,’ she burst out on them.
She had not vied because she said she had a
lot of commitment on her hands, she sat on four school boards which she chaired
two, was a leader of other church organizations etc etc, good explanation to
turning down the mothers’ Union job. ‘Aah, we were just saying,’ Ma Akinyi was
on her defense but Ma” Waf sneered the castigation away and whispered rather
too loudly to Ma’ Akinyi, ‘Mhm she goes around high headed ati integrity when we know Ma Mwas passed with twenty five votes
and there are only twenty five Kikuyus in the mothers’ Union including
herself.’ And Ma Akinyi laughed rather too awkwardly or knowingly or accusingly
or all. It’s hard to have progress in a society the is too anecdotal to tribe.
Ma’ Kim ignored them and joined her family
and drove off to women waving her off hoping to see her in the afternoon at the
inauguration and those jealously throwing dagger looks at her while trying to
maintain a smudge of a smile for her husband Oyier.
Mamamji walked out of the church last,
trying to maintain her posture and composition. Perhaps she was waiting until
Ma’Mwas was gone. She had taken a long time consulting with the pastor over
programs the mothers’ Unioun would like to do in the church. The pastor was
very impressed and shaking his head in acknowledgement hanging on every word
Ma’Mwas was saying. Mamaji was angry beyond disbelief and pretended to need
more time with invocation with God. She waited until Ma’Mwas moved on to the
next group of women and then she made for the door. The pastor was still there
seeing off the church members. She came to him and greeted him feigning her
social smile that always caught people especially men between the gap of her
teeth. She maintained the natural feminine beauty regardless of her drum shape
that accosts most African women her age. She was leaving when Ma’Akinyi and co.
came crowding around her to pledge their allegiance despite having lost to Ma’Mwas.
When she had lost the accomplices were too ashamed to associate with her and
even now some came to jest her just so they could later have fodder on gossip
Sunday.
This gave her so much millage she held her
head up high and walked past Ma’Mwas leaving the church yard triumphantly. Ma’Mwas
spotted her and carried an olive branch on her head like an Olympic marathon
winner and assailed her. ‘Mamaji, how are you today? I was hoping to talk to
you about the future of mothers Union, I know we can work our vision together
and do good for this church and the community, maybe we’ll catch up at the
inauguration?’ Ma’Mwas offered. Mamaji scrawny with her short lived victory of
sorts, retorted, ‘Maybe, but I do not think I will attend, due to unavoidable
circumstances.’ And she was off in haste like a drunkard to a Shebeen queen, no
pun intended.
***
Later that evening while she was doing
strong tea boiled with lemon grass on her favourite china with Ma’Akinyi who had
brought updates of the inauguration she recounted that scene. ‘Imagine that
thief had the audacity to ask me to join her camp. She must be mad.’
Mr. Njogu her husband was reading a paper
hoping it could distract him from the feminine chatter. But you know how funny
it is when you are in a matatu and
you listen to strangers conversations and secretly make your contribution to
yourself, ‘These women’. He was
looking at the photo of president Uhuru next to his Raila at Mr. Okuta’s burial
and rumour mills were spinning that Uhuru had gone to offer Raila a statesman
job.
Ma’Akinyi was at it fanning Mamaji’s
indignation. She poured herself more tea on the small china and blew off the
steam from the surface of the night black tea and sipped. ‘And you should have
seen her supporters and how they were jesting you. They claim to be your friends
but they were bad mouthing you in the open. Imagine that useless Ma’Amina
audaciously bad mouthing you and we know how her husband is a philanderer’ I
told them I would have none of it.’ She pointed out. Mamaji shrugged off
although you could tell she was angered by her supposed friends who had turned
their back now that she had lost. ‘Mhm let them go crawling
to that leech, we will see if she will deliver on her promises and give those
judases loans as she had promised.’ Mamaji retorted angrily.
What
if she does? Njogu now sought to engross his mind
from the venom of the women talk. He pretended to read keenly the article on
how class one children would all get lap-tops amid skeptism especially with the
fact that some children learnt under trees, wrote on the ground and some had
resorted to prostitution to buy books! Now that is a tall order.
Ma’Akinyi shook her head sadly, ‘I’ll
probably never come back to that union.’ She was saying. ‘Oh, but you must, if
you do not that Ma’Mwas will rule us like kids. She is all evil and what will
become of us.’
Oh
please. Njogu was tired just listening to the women
whine. He slammed the paper on the half inch tinted glass and stood to leave
for the bar where he could discuss something more important like politics. The
headline sprawled on the top of the newspaper. POSSIBLE RETURN OF RAILA AND
KALONZO TO PARLIAMENT.
[1] Mwende was a prostitute who went round churches bearing false
testimony about her mouth handicap and had the pastor heal her and pay her
later
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