WIFESPEAK: Please, don’t make the mistake of marrying this man

It is a beautiful Tuesday morning, the baby is asleep, the two older ones are at school, hubby is at work, so it is just me and my computer.

This is the life! I look up to the heavens and whisper a thankful prayer before settling down to write.

Beatrice, our house assistant, bless her, serves me hot water with lemon, and quietly walks away.

Suddenly, there is a loud booming noise. Some people call it music. Music is a language that pleases the senses, but this noise causes my house to tremble and startles the baby awake. Beatrice runs to pick him up as she curses;

“Arrgg! It’s those guys downstairs, again.”

“You mean they do this often?” I ask.

I try humming Chariots of Fire but with that racket going on, cannot hold the tune. I give into the rage building in me with each boom and each cry that my baby makes.  I storm downstairs, ring their door bell and wait. No response. I press again but doubt they can even hear, so I bang the door. Finally, a man opens.

“It’s too loud in here,” I shout and indicate my ears since he cannot hear me above the noise.

He gives me a condescending look, the way one primary school teacher would, when you pointed out an error in his calculus.

“Would you lower the volume, please?” I say.

NOTHING AS OFFPUTTING

I am trying to be polite, nice. You see, I had been ready to give him a dress down earlier, because I expected a teenager with sagging jeans and tattooed arms to open the door.

But here stands an adult male, early or late thirties, reeking of alcohol, bloodshot eyes, crumpled shirt untucked, some buttons undone. Nothing is as off putting as infantile behaviour in an adult, male or female.

I want to scream, but I keep my calm as I stare back at him. He reminds me of something revolting, something that my editor will not publish here, but I think it shows on my face.

Still not saying anything, he gives me a nasty sweeping glance, mouth curled up in a sneer, and bangs the door on my face!

Thankfully, the noise dies down just as I am about to kick the door in frustration, and risk a broken leg.

“Thank you!” I shout, and go back to my house for a glass of cold water, a remedy for the flames in my belly.

Later in the afternoon, I go downstairs to open the gate for the kids, and as fate would have it, there, at the car park, is the same man, leaning on a car with blaring music, talking to a girl. He studiously ignores me as I approach.

“Bye love,” the girl says and kisses him, and then walks away.

He gives her behind a leering look until she is out of sight.

I cannot help feeling sorry for this girl. I have advice for her, and for others who are in relationships with men who have no idea what respect means.

Sweetheart, if he cannot be polite to a neighbour, the nearest person he would run to when in need of help, chances are that he will be disrespectful towards you as well.

And no, your love will change him, not when he is already 30-something. Marrying him will only make the tissue manufacturers wealthy, and you will spend a lot of time at a counsellor’s couch, blowing your nose and dabbing at your swollen eyes.

The fact is that such a man cannot be the head of your home if he still exhibits rebellious teenage behaviour in his thirties.

Of all the traits that a girl should seek in a prospective husband, maturity must top the list.

Signs of maturity include consideration for others, ability to take care of himself, including caring about his physical appearance, and respecting others, including his wife or girlfriend – even his neighbours.