There shall be no more dowry from me to my in-laws

A few days after Fiolina arrived from Mosoriot TTC, I met her brother Tocla – at Hitler’s obviously. In fact, I don’t remember ever meeting Tocla at any other place. Tocla and I haven’t been the best of in-laws for the last few months. This came after I stopped buying him and his friends pick-ups at Hitler’s. He had always known that I would be the one to buy him but since he never returned the hand, I stopped – after all, I am not vying for any electoral seat now or in future.

“Bring it any day,” I had told him when he said that he had a letter for me. In Mwisho wa Lami parlance, a letter simply meant a message – but it could as well be a letter!

The next day, Tocla arrived at our home. With him was his daughter Frida. In our early marriage days, Frida used to stay with us and had even enrolled at Mwisho wa Lami Primary School and only went back home when Fiolina went to Mosoriot.

On seeing Tocla and Frida, Fiolina was very excited and moved quickly to start preparing a meal for them. There wasn’t much for me to discuss with Tocla as we were both sober. So he went straight to what had brought him.

“Is your father around?” he asked. Mzee had left but I could get him.

“He is not far but I can assist,” I answered him.

“The letter I have is from my father to your father,” he said. I could sense what he was looking for. After he had eaten a plateful of ugali and a whole tilapia fish, I took him to see my parents.

After pleasantries, Tocla gave my father the letter. It was a poorly written letter in which Fiolina’s father was asking when we would complete paying the remaining instalment of dowry.

I knew Fiolina was behind this. And it always happened when I expected some money. As I may have mentioned to you, I recently applied for a loan to buy a new commercial motorcycle, after Nyayo broke down my old one. Knowing that I was expecting some money in a few days, Fiolina was pushing her people so that they could also get a share of the money.

And I knew my father would not defend me. Since he knew that I would not give him any of this money anyway, he didn’t mind seeing me waste it away. Plus he knew he would get something small once he takes me for dowry negotiations.

 After some discussions, against my wish, my father agreed that we would visit Fiolina’s place in a week’s time. I tried to dispute this but they were adamant. We looked for the wisest of Mwisho wa Lami’s wazees; and Alphayo, Rasto and Nyayo joined us in visiting Fiolina’s parents yesterday.

I WORE ME NEWEST , BLUEST KAUNDA SUIT

I wore my newest blue Kaunda suit – but in a new, modern style. Under the Kaunda suit I had a green shirt and red tie. I, however, did not button the Kaunda coat.

I then matched this with my special function glasses. I had given Nyayo one of my old green Kaunda suits and he looked great in it. Rasto and Alphayo borrowed shoes and a shirt respectively from me.

I did not expect them to return them as they have never returned anything borrowed from me before.

We arrived at the home at around 11 a.m. I could see Fiolina, who had travelled the previous day, busy in the kitchen. Before travelling, she had insisted that I do shopping for the function, which I had done to avoid a quarrel.

Nyayo relished such functions, and he had not taken breakfast that day, as he expected a lot of food ahead. We started with tea accompanied with ground nuts, ugali and chapati. Only I touched ground nuts. Nyayo took three cups of tea and about half a loaf.

After the tea we went straight into discussions, after introductions were done. My side was led by Alphayo.

“We received a letter from you and we said let us come and hear from you what you have for us,” he started.

“Thank you Alphayo,” said Rafael, their spokesperson. “Penye wazee hapaharibiki neno. It has been years since you last visited us.”

He went on: “And our daughter, as you know, will soon be a teacher who will be bringing her salary to your home, not ours.”

“We are happy that Fiolina will soon be a teacher,” said Rasto. “And we thank you Andrea who pays her fees.” This was not taken well by Fiolina’s side.

“We are all educating her and our son should not think he is the only one paying,” said Fiolina’s father. “I am the one who gave her transport to Morosiot in January.”

“And don’t forget we had taken her up to Form Four,” Rafael reminded all.

My father, who ideally should not speak at such functions, joined in: “Ever since my daughter joined Morosiot, my son here has never given me anything,” he said. “All his money goes to paying Fiolina’s fees.”

“He also never sends anything to us,” complained Fiolina’s father. “My other sons who married my daughters usually send some sugar, but huyu Andrea wenyu ni mkono birika.”

Tocla nodded to this before adding, “Hata mkikutana mahali ya wazee, huyu Dre ni kama hanijui, hawezi kufanya kitu na ni mtu ako na mshahara.”

Since food was ready, it was agreed that we be served and continue with discussions after food. You do not know Nyayo until you put food before him. He filled his plate with practically everything available – ugali, chicken, beef, matumbo, chapati, fruits, all at the same time. His plate was so full that some pieces of beef were hanging precariously.

Discussions continued shortly after lunch, but only a few people could concentrate. Nyayo, Tocla and Alphayo were so full they were just dozing through the discussions. I couldn’t remember what was being said until my father made comments that infuriated Fiolina’s father.

“You want to be added more dowry na hata sijaona matokeo ya Fiolina,” he said.

“Matokeo gani?” wondered Fiolina’s father. “Huwezi vuna kama hujapanda? Ambia kijana yako apande. Wasichana wangu wengine wote wametoa matokeo. Uliza Andrea mbona Fiolina hana matokeo.”

The mood of the discussion changed after that and the two sides could not agree on anything. In the end it was agreed that I would give Sh6,300 and another Sh1,050 for Fiolina’s mother but further dowry discussions would be held after we have our first born.

“Na kijana yangu ufanye hii mambo haraka,” Fiolina’s father told me just before we left. “Kama kuna shida sema tukusaidie.”

 On our way back, my father said that he expected Sh4,000 from me so he could pay the elders.

The money I am getting is purely for the motorcycle and my parents and Fiolina’s parents will not be getting even a cent! In the meantime, I will be working hard this April to get results from the laugh of my life!

***

Almost everyone in the education sector has been complaining about the proposed new Kaimenyi rules in which the Minister is seeking powers to fire non-performing school heads.

It is easy to oppose such rules but any teacher who has worked under Bensouda will agree that such rules should have been put in place long time ago.

I hope the rules will be passed soon and that the first victim will be Bensouda.