Mr Survivor: Listen, my Queen, the Concorde is here to stay
She had already told her friends in the chama that we were upgrading, and therefore she has no place to hide her face.
What you need to know:
- You see, I do not require a professor of the psychology of women to tell me why this malady has afflicted queen.
- As you might have noted by now, I am a village professor of the psychology of women in general with a speciality in Queen in particular.
The third tortoise wave has hit my Palace with a thud only superseded by the third corona wave reigning in the whole world. The tortoise wave is the period during which my Queen suffers a spell in which she disparages my other love, the time tested and proven Volkswagen Beetle, aka Concorde. How I survive this wave will depend on how well I handle Queen, but if my moniker, Mr Survivor, is anything to go by, I am sure I shall survive. You will remember how I survived the past two waves when Concorde was declared a persona non grata at the Palace.
Professor of psychology
You see, I do not require a professor of the psychology of women to tell me why this malady has afflicted queen. As you might have noted by now, I am a village professor of the psychology of women in general with a speciality in Queen in particular. My survival with the two women of the Palace, Queen and Makena, bears me witness. Here are the three reasons why Queen is mad with Concorde.
A vehicle upgrade
The first reason is that I had promised her to upgrade my vehicle status from a Volkswagen Beetle to a Volkswagen Golf by the Easter holiday of this year of the Lord, which is already in history. She had already told her friends in the chama that we were upgrading, and therefore she has no place to hide her face.
The second reason is that since her re-election as the chairlady of Aberdare’s giant chama, she got a status promotion and has recently been riding in the Kenya Women Bank’s Rav 4. Now, my Concorde is incomparable with a Rav 4 in terms of aesthetics. Although Concorde is unparalleled in terrain adaptability and durability, as a woman is wont to do, Queen has fallen for aesthetics.
Hitting back at me
The third reason, and perhaps the most pregnant, is that Queen is hitting back at me because of surprising Makena, our Palace mboch with a dress and a poncho ‘imported’ from Stelley’s Baby and Women Wear in Nairobi. She has interpreted my innocent act of charity to be a gross infringement into her territorial boundaries as the Queen of the Palace, thereby flying right into her flight path. “Mmmmm! You can buy dress for your women but you cannot buy a man’s car for your family!” Queen said recently in her one-liner ‘you talk’. Wanaume wengine wanaendesha gali, sio toys!” she taunted me. I did not respond.
Before I strayed into the psychology of Queen, my pet subject, I meant to tell you why my Concorde will be with us, nay, with me, for some time unless a financial miracle happens. Like Queen, I have my three substantive reasons why Concorde will be a persona grata at the Palace until I decide otherwise, or rather, until the next financial miracle.
Quite obvious
The first one is regrettably obvious. If my memory serves me right, the promise was a product of my fertile imagination fuelled by Mrembo’s frothy servings at Happy Valley. For your information, I become ingeniously creative while under the influence of Mrembo’s drink, but I am not personally responsible for even an iota of my word. That time I was saving Concorde from the second corona wave, and it bought her and my peace at the Palace.
As you all know, the second reason is that I suffer from a perpetual inadequacy of cash. What Queen does not understand is that I am not blind to aesthetics and taste of style. After all, I am the only man in the Aberdare countryside who dresses his family in ‘imported’ clothes from Nairobi. And it is not just any other second-hand clothes from Gikomba sunshine boutique but trendy wears from no other than Stelley’s Baby and Women Wear. Talking of money and Queen should know better, the corona has rudely disrupted my financial projections in a big way. As I write this message, my chickenpreneurship is struggling to remain afloat. The Happy Valley comrades are not financially behaving as they should, throwing Mrembo and me into an economic spin.
The third and more pregnant reason is that my chickenpreneurship does not require a luxury car. It requires a utility vehicle, and Concorde fits the bill. The Beetle is the most adapted machine to flatten the curves and hills of the government forsaken Aberdare jungle. In fuel consumption, the Beetle smells instead of ‘drinking’ petrol. I will not bore you with the cost and availability of spare parts, load capacity, load clearance and stability of the Beetle because these are obvious to anyone with an eye for vehicles.
And so you can now understand why my beloved Concorde will be a permanent feature of the Palace, Happy Valley Resort and the Aberdare cow tracks that pass for roads. Queen has to adapt and accept to be seeing it every morning the way she sees my face first thing in the morning despite banishing me to marital Siberia, apende, asipende.! Long live my Beetle, long live my beloved Concorde.
