Mr Survivor: With Queen banishing me to Siberia, Makena takes to saving my stomach

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

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Every time Queen banishes me to marital Siberia, Makena sees a fertile ground to plant both her profuse sympathy and empathy towards me. As the CPA (Comptroller of Palace Affairs) she is in charge of the kitchen, a position she uses to lavish me with delicious meals when Queen denies me the same. As our people are wont to say, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

As you will certainly remember, we have been using separate sets of bedding for the same bed, with Queen occupying two thirds of it. Queen has not been opening the door in a timely fashion and when she finally does, she runs back to the bedroom without a word about my supper. That is where Makena saw a gap and decided to fill it.

Now, when Queen and our boys retired to bed last Wednesday after successfully ‘torturing’ me with a lecture on my unloving and unfatherly behaviour, Makena tiptoed from her bedroom and came to my timely rescue.

Nilikuwa nimekufichia chakula yako. Wewe jipange (I had reserved food for you. Sort yourself out),” she whispered. I was drowsy and she had to tap me at the cheeks.

Nashukuru sana,” I said.  “Nitakufa nawe, kama baya, baya (I die with, if that is what it takes),” Makena said.

The same ceremony of conspiracy was repeated on Thursday with a slight improvement. On that evening, Makena sat down briefly and her voice was louder. Her dress was suggestively shorter and she deliberately sat directly opposite me.

Haki si unateseka! Sasa hii maneno itaisha lini?” she asked. I had not answered her when, because of a reason known to all of us, we thought we heard Queen coming. Makena grew thinner and escaped to her room. But Queen was fast asleep when I took my third of the bed.

On Friday, Makena took her immoral support to extremely risky levels. After placing the supper on the table, she took a step of faith and sat directly opposite me. “Umejipeana sana kwa huyu malkia wako. Mwanamume nikunguruma (You have allowed your Queen to torture you. A man is known for roaring),” Makena said. Her strong perfume competed with the aroma of the delicious meal she had brought.

“Life is funny. Those who are being rained on outside would kill to get inside a house but those inside are working very hard to go out into the rain. I wish I were in her shoes, I would be washing your feet,” Makena said. Her flirtatious behaviour was obvious but my strong spirit overcame my weak body.

You see, being a grown up African-Kenyan-Happy Valley man, I had to appreciate Makena for her sacrifice. As a wise Englishman said, It is the mark of an intelligent man to entertain ideas but not to accept them. The girl had engaged her fertile imaginations to the highest gear but accepting to fall for her trap would be committing marital suicide.

“She will soon see the light and change,” I said. After playing safe for two days, we must have become careless. Our voices were high and Makena’s stay longer. Queen must have wondered why I had taken that long to take my part of the bed. She decided to come and find out. Luckily, the hinges of our bedroom door make noise.

Makena bumped into Queen along the veranda. It was a close shave. Queen did not know where Makena was coming from but her feminine instincts must have told her that things were not as fine as they looked. When I joined her in bed, I realised that she had removed the extra set of bedding. And she was at the farthest end of our king-size bed facing the wall.

I was very disappointed. It was better when each of us had their set of beddings. There was no hope then. Now, I was so close yet so far from the kingdom.  But that is life.

The following morning, I received an SMS from Makena. “Hi? I almost fainted. I saw death with my eyes,” she wrote. Since then, she has taken to writing text messages with directions on where she has hidden my supper.

I have tried to discourage her from texting me by not responding to any of her messages but she is not just about to let go. I have heard people say that the internet does not forget and I just hope that this will soon come to an end. But for now, that is the only survival tactic for us. And Makena likes that way.

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