MR SURVIVOR: Crisis at the palace after politics kills Queen’s supermarket


If there is a difficult woman to deal and live with when she has no money, that woman is my Queen. 

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Although my enemies of marital bliss will not appreciate this obvious fact, the truth, and nothing but the truth, is that yours truly was the brains behind Queen’s Slopes Supermarket. I planted the initial seed capital in the business which I duly named Queen’s Estate Kiosk.

Queen herself has done everything possible on earth to obliterate my footprints, however remote, from the business. Being the peace-loving husband that I am, I have never complained about this treatment because I had achieved my intention—until Queen joined the recent campaigns against my advice.

When starting the business, my well thought-out husbandly plan was to make Queen both financially independent and meaningfully engaged time-wise. Financial independence was supposed to end her perpetual morning sickness as she demanded for money for food. On the other hand, keeping her busy would ensure that she was at a safe distance from the Aberdare countryside’s rumour mills who kept feeding her with lies about my supposed unholy hobnobbing with Mrembo, the proprietor of Happy Valley Grills.

Luckily, my Queen turned out to be an entrepreneurial powerhouse. Soon, the kiosk picked up like a February fire in the Aberdare Forest. Unfortunately, that good fortune marked my end in the family business. Queen kicked me out of the decision making in the kiosk, upgraded it and baptised it Slopes Supermarket. I did not complain because she was taking care of the kitchen budget as we had agreed.

The monumental success of Queen’s kiosk, nay, Slopes Supermarket, earned her the title C.E.O. The corollary to the title of C.E.O was being assigned vital roles in Aberdare countryside. Recently, she took up the role of a political mobiliser. This was the greatest and most costly mistake Queen has ever made, which led to financial ramifications that reverberated across the valleys of Happy Valley countryside.

As you are obviously well aware through my past missives, Queen abandoned her hitherto good business in the hands of Makena, our long serving C.O.P.A (Comptroller of Palace Affairs), and joined the former governor’s campaigns. What C.O.P.A. did with the Supermarket is a juicy missive for another day.

You will remember how Queen used to compete with me in arriving late at the Palace. Apart from beating me in late arrival, she was also beating me by the mode of transport. While I arrived in my Volkswagen Beetle, she was landing from a black fuel guzzling monster. By the time the campaigns ended, the troika of the governor, the fuel guzzler, and Slopes Supermarket were dead and buried. What remained was yours truly, the one and only Mr Survivor of Happy Valley, and my weather and terrain tested and proven Volkswagen Beetle.

Now, if there is a difficult woman to deal and live with when she has no money, that woman is my Queen. You can now understand why she has been demanding that I bank my day’s earnings with her. When I failed to do it, she expelled my Concorde from the Palace and were it not for the Future Leaders, the Concorde would still be sleeping outside the compound like a transit lorry.

“Do you ever ask yourself what your children eat?” Queen asked on Sunday. That was on our journey back from church after the Future Leaders forced her to use my Concorde, nay, the family car. “Kwani? I thought you are supposed to buy food while I take care of the major projects at the Palace!” I innocently responded.

“What minor projects have you ever implemented, leave alone the major ones?” she asked.

“Let us start from the bottom then move up. You were supposed to buy food for the family, right?” I asked her.

“I was helping you do what is supposed to be your work of feeding your family as a responsible husband and father! But now the devil has taken the shop,” she retorted.

“That is what you should have said but do not claim you were helping me,” I said.

“I have now said it. The Bible says very clearly that the wife is a helper. Take up your role like other responsible husbands and fathers,” Queen said sarcastically.

“Enough! I shall do what other responsible wives and mothers are doing without telling the whole world. But do not give the devil unnecessary credit. Campaigns killed your shop, not the devil,” I said.

And so I had no choice but to go back to the bottom by taking over the kitchen budget. Knowing Queen for who she is, it will take the opposite of a miracle to have her take back her the responsibilities even after the kiosk comes back to life. Yes, I plan to revive it.

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