Fiolina kills my dream of buying a motorcycle

As you may already be aware, I was the proud owner of an AVS motorcycle just a few months ago.

You will also remember that, regretfully, I had to dispose off the enviable asset last September to raise fees for the laugh of my life after well-wishers who came to her harambee gave me a lot of verbal support — but forgot to escort this with actions.

But a few months ago, I decided that time to own a motorcycle again was ripe. I contemplated between buying a motorcycle and a posho mill but settled on motorcycle.

Well, they are both engines but one can move from point A to B while the other is stationary!

As such, I applied for a loan from the Sacco. Due to the heavy strain on my pay slip, I could not afford an Sh80,000 loan so I took Sh60,000. I raised the balance by selling trees — trees that I planted on my father’s land that was grabbed by my brother Pius.

The last time I sold the trees I got into trouble with my father and brother, the only saving grace being that even they could not agree on who actually owned the trees. The trees fetched for me Sh20,000. It could have raised more, but I had to give my mother some protection fee, and since they had to be cut when mzee was not around, this brought the price down.

HUGE INVESTMENT

Last week, I went to our county headquarters to get the motorcycle. Apostle Elkana, The Spiritual Superintendent of THOAG (The Holiest of All Ghosts) Tabernacle Assembly was waiting at home to pray for the motorcycle. Alphayo and Rasto were also at hand waiting to bless it.

I suspect the reason the last motorcycle did not stay for long was because it did not received proper blessings. I, however, took long in the bank such that by the time I got the money, the shop where I had identified a motorcycle had closed. I deposited the money in my M-Pesa and went home.

Of course I remained with some Sh10,000 pocket allowance. I used part of it to do shopping for Fio and my mother — which they happily received. I then gave Apostle Elkana and the elders Sh100 each. But if they think I will still give them something on the actual day of blessing the motorcycle then they are mistaken.

That evening, I passed by Hitler’s to take one for the path. Since I was liquid, I touched the lives of many. Practically everyone who knew me had their throats wetted, courtesy of my generosity.

I staggered home late, to find Fiolina brooding like a chicken that’s protecting her eggs; frequently quarrelling her niece Frida around. Those of you who are married will know that whenever your wife quarrels someone, you need to listen to her tone to know if the quarrel is directed at you or the person in question.

Fiolina’s tone that day told me that although she was quarrelling Frida, she was actually angry with me. My safety was in silence.

So after supper, I quietly went to sleep, but I had already been questioned as to why I hadn’t closed the door behind me when I arrived, and admonished for adding salt to my food.

When Fiolina joined me in bed, she was still in a combative mood.

“If you occupy the whole bed like this, where will I sleep?” she asked. I moved to one side, leaving over a half of the bed for her.

“It is time we bought a better, bigger bed,” she said. I did not respond. She then asked for my phone. Any married man will tell you that there are very many dangerous situations in the world, but none is a more dangerous experience than your phone in your wife’s hands!

"PIN?" SHE ASKED

“PIN?” she asked me when I gave her. I pretended to be asleep. “PIN?” she asked me, shaking me violently. “What do you want to see?” I asked her.

“What are you hiding that you don’t want me to see?” she challenged me.

Since I had no answer, I unlocked the phone for her, and then pretended to be dead asleep, even though my heart was literally racing, and I was sweating as she went through everything, every message, Bookface, call records with a toothcomb, as if there would be an exam after.

I could feel her focus more on M-Pesa messages. After an agonising 30 minutes that felt like a week, she put down the phone, clicked and said. “So this is what has been happening.” I pretended to be dead asleep.

The next day, Fiolina woke up in the same combative mood. I could hear her quarrelling Frida as they prepared breakfast. When I woke up and joined them, I was immediately asked why I had not made the bed yet I was the last to wake up.

“And please wash your face before you join us,” she told me.

Later, she told me that she wanted to go to the salon, and also needed to buy a new dress. It was a delicate matter: she knew I had money, and I could not argue given my many mistakes.

“You know the money I have is for a reason,” I said

“I know, but so you want me to walk with such like hair? You want me to walk naked. Yesterday you bought new shoes, what about me?” she asked. And the way I had hidden the shoes under the bed to wear them to work once she returns to college!

Unwilling to argue, I asked her how much she wanted.

“Eight thousand shillings,” she said.

“That will interfere with our project,” I said. “I will give you Sh2,000.”

“If you don’t want to give me, I will get someone to give me,” she said and started preparing to leave. I could not let her go to a private developer, so we negotiated and settled on Sh4,500 to be sent to her via M-Pesa. She left.

I left my phone charging and when I went to pick it up, there were numerous missed calls from her. I immediately sent her the Sh4,500. An hour later, the owner of the motorcycle shop called me. He said that he had remained with only two TVS motorcycles and added that if I was serious, I needed to send him a deposit of at least Sh30,000. Since I had the money, I saw no reason not to, so I sent him Sh30,000.

I was surprised to get an SMS that I had insufficient balance to send Sh30,000.

This outraged me but on further investigations, I was shocked to find that I had inadvertently sent to my wife Sh45,000 instead of Sh4,500. I tried calling Fiolina immediately but she did not pick. I called and called and even sent her an SMS but there was no response. I immediately called M-Pesa and was informed that a huge chunk of the money had been used or withdrawn and as such, they could not reverse the transaction.

MAD RUSH

I went to Mwisho wa Lami market where she had gone and was told she had just boarded Msamaria Mwema to Kisumu.

She returned very late that evening, with two cartons of shopping and a bag full of new clothes.

“I thought you had decided to surprise me with a Valentine,” she said when I confronted her. The shopping couldn’t have cost Sh45,000 so I asked her where the rest of the money was.

“My brother Tocla had a problem so I sent him Sh7,000, and I sent my father and mother Sh12,700 to start a business,” she said.

“Watarudisha hiyo pesa,” I thundered.

“No way,” she said. “Let me return you the balance of 4,720 that I have.” She only returned Sh3,640. “Wanaume huko nje wanapea bibi zao mamilioni; pesa kidogo na unalia!” she remarked.

And that is how the dream of owning a motorcycle died! I haven’t talked to her since then, and I doubt we will talk any time soon.