My inability to complete degree and house leaves Fiolina fuming

Everyone (except for a few misguided enemies of development) will agree that I am a very hardworking man. But most people will claim to be hardworking anyway. What sets me apart is that I am creative. And there are very few people in Mwisho wa Lami and its environs, indeed in the whole world – that are both creative and hard working.

Besides serving as the most successful Deputy HM of Mwisho wa Lami Primary, I am also a Board member of Mwisho wa Lami Secondary, representing community interests; and an important member of the Mwisho wa Lami Community.

If you do not know, I am the secretary of the Mwisho wa Lami welfare group and chairman of Mwisho wa Lami Young Teachers Consortium.

I must also mention that I am the administrator of several WhatsApp groups – including the staffroom one, the family one, another one for young teachers of Mwisho wa Lami, one for deputy HMs in our county and another one for my brothers – Pius, Ford and I! The only reason I have not created a Hitler’s WhatsApp group is because only two members, Kwame and myself, have digital phones.

Despite all these, I still have created time to be the Dean of Busy Bee Top KCPE Preparatory Academy, where I have been going to prepare a good number of KCPE candidates from this region every evening and at weekends. Is it not a miracle that besides all this, I still have found time to pass by Hitler’s?

“Where do you get the energy to do all this?” Saphire asked me when we met at Hitler’s last Wednesday. Other than the occasional coming to school and drinking at Hitler’s every day, the only other thing that Saphire is known for doing is eating.

“I thank God for the energy,” I told him. He, however, told me to slowdown lest I get old fast.

But as they always say, heroes are not celebrated at home. Despite all my achievements, and the respect I get from everyone in Mwisho wa Lami and beyond, I am not respected at home. And of late, due to my very busy schedule, my parents and my wife seem to have closed ranks and ganged up against me.

FIOLINA WEEPS

I was therefore not surprised when I returned home last Wednesday to find a brooding Fiolina, the laugh of my life. It was not the first time she was brooding and if she thought I was going to beg her, she was so wrong.

“Where are you from this late?” she asked me. “Schools closed at 5.30 pm!”

“You know very well I go for tuition at Busy Bee to make money for us,” I said.

“Which tuition goes upto 9pm,” she asked. Indeed the tuition had ended at 6.50pm, and I had passed by Hitler’s to thank the body that toils. There was nothing wrong with that. And a full-blooded Mwisho wa Lami man did not need to seek permission from his wife to pass by Hitler’s – or go anywhere.

“And do you drink at tuition?” she asked. “Your fellow teachers are making great strides in life while all you do is drink,” she said. I couldn’t believe she just said that. I had done so much, including educating her at Mosoriot. That was too much for me and I moved to slap her but she ducked.

“You want to beat me? You want to beat me Dre?” she asked. “I can’t stay here.” She packed some of her stuff and left the house. I did not try to stop her. She then walked out of house into the darkness. It was too late and I knew she would not go anywhere. I wasn’t wrong. A few minutes later, my father called me to his house.

I found him there with my mother and Fiolina. Fiolina was crying. Also present was my sister Yunia, Fiolina’s self-appointed lawyer. There is no prize for guessing why Yunia was at home – she must have disagreed with her husband - again!

“Why are you mistreating your wife for asking you development questions?” my father started.

“Mzee wacha kuongea mambo haujui,” I told my father. “I came back from school to find her angry and I don’t know why.”

“Ulitoka shule saa tatu ya usiku?” my mother asked me.

“Mnataka niulize ruhusa ndio niende mahali popote?” I asked them. “I don’t eat in your house so please let me do what I want,” I said.

“You are in my home so you have to follow rules,” my father said, banging the table. “Keep quiet.” I have never seen my father is such a foul mood so I kept quiet. He then asked Fiolina to raise her grievances.

“Shida yangu ni kukunywa kila siku, lakini hiyo si shida kubwa,” she started off. “We have been quarreling over two things: completing his degree and completing his house?”

“My son, a man who stays in his father’s house is still a boy,” started my father. “When will you complete your house so that my daughter here has somewhere to call home?”

“Building a house like the one I am building is not joke,” I told my father. “Have you ever built a permanent house ama unaongea tu?” I asked him.

“This is the biggest house in this region and I have done everything to complete it.”

“What have you done?”

“I have taken four loans, I have changed fundis, I have done some of the work myself,” I said.

“That is ok but when will you finish the house?” he asked.

“I will finish the house don’t worry. I am working hard. Even now I am doing tuition so that I can raise money to complete the house, jameni hamuoni?”

“Pesa ya tuition yote unakunywa tu,” said Yunia. I told her to keep quiet and added that I would still be drinking even if I was not taking tuition classes.

FAILED UNITS

“Hii kukunywa itakuharibia ndoa,” Yunia said. She touched a raw nerve.

“Why are you here you? Your husband chased you and you are here taking about other people’s marriages. Rudi kwa bwana wako ndio uongee,” I told her.

“Pilipili usioila yakuwashiani?” she said. “Hata kama tumekosana na bwana wangu hakunywi kama wewe. Jinga sana wewe”

“Stop abusing Dre,” said Fiolina. This was getting interesting, seeing Fiolina argue with Yunia.

“Sawa, tetea yeye tuone nani atapigwa,” Yunia said but my father calmed the two women, then sent Yunia away. “Yako na bwana wako tutaongea baadaye.”

“What was the other thing my daughter?” my father asked Fiolina.

“The degree,” she said, “Dre started his degree long before I started my course. I have finished mine na yeye bado.”

“Don’t compare a degree with your P1 course,” I told her. “A degree is different my friend. We are taught by professors not lecturers like yours. It takes time.”

Fiolina reminded me that some of the people I had started with had completed. “Because I had to stop so that I could pay fees for you,” I said. “Or that was not important?” I asked.

She agreed that it was important but she said that I did not work hard and had failed some courses.

“My son you failed some courses?” my father asked me.

“I did not fail,” I said. “It is just that I did not pass it well despite trying very hard. I have done everything possible to pass: revised very well, hired a tutor, attended group discussions but I just haven’t performed well in the statistics course.”

“What else can I do?” I wondered. Fiolina agreed that I had given my best on both items and there was nothing else I could do. “Let us leave the rest to God,” she said. We left mzee’s house and walked back to my house – holding hands.

We talked with my wife until very late. Luckily for us, the next day was a holiday and for obvious reasons, we woke up very later, at around 11am.