MR SURVIVOR: How Makena brought down Queen’s Slopes Supermarket
That whole drama was Queen’s way of seeking sympathy.
In past missives, I have regaled you with the tale of the two women of the Palace, my dear Queen and Makena, our decade long C.P.A (Comptroller of Palace Affairs.) The two are drama queens par excellence and I have lived at the tenterhooks for a decade. As you will certainly remember, C.P.A. looks for the slightest opportunity to discredit Queen’s wifely qualities.
I also know that you know that when two adult women share the same roof in which there is only one adult man, such a house, and the man, are under constant threat of womanly fire—friendly or otherwise. That has been my life for the last 10 years and it is not for nothing that my moniker is Mr Survivor.
Although I neither believe in Makena’s porojo about Queen’s shortcomings as a woman and wife, Queen does not believe me. “You always support that girl!” Queen says. Why Queen thought it wise, if she ever thought about it, to delegate the operations of her Slopes Supermarket to Makena when she joined the campaign trail remains a mystery to me. In other words, Queen trusts C.P.A. with her kiosk more than me.
Now, when Queen returned from the campaigns, she not only found empty shelves but also an empty cash box. And because I have maintained a mile’s distance from her business, it was only last Sunday’s afternoon family outing that Queen broke the sad news to me and in the most hilarious but sympathy seeking manner.
After a heavy helping of kuku kienyenji and chips – ugali for me – at Aberdare Choma Zone, C.P.A. and the Future Leaders left to have fun at the merry-go-round. This left Queen and I free for a husband-wife tete-a-tete, an opportunity that comes rarely. And Queen does not throw to waste such a golden chance to make a killing.
“The devil has averred to demolish our house,” Queen proclaimed. From experience, Queen’s one-liners are an enticement to her signature long lectures on how to be a responsible husband. “What has the devil done this time?” I asked.
“You cannot see because you are his disciple sent to destroy my business,” Queen said.
“I am hearing it from you. And how do I come in the fall of the shop? Please leave me out of your issues with Makena,” I pleaded.
“I have been trying to imagine where and how you and Makena were seated when you conspired to empty my supermarket.”
That was the bombshell. So, like I had suspected, Makena had emptied the kiosk. Omosh’s newly acquired philanthropic tendencies at Happy Valley had caught my attention but I had no evidence. As you well know, Omosh is Makena’s bae.
“I will call her here so that you can clear your name and shame the devil,” Queen said. She called Makena who, as usual, took her time to come.
“Makena! With whom did you empty my supermarket with?” Queen asked.
Makena shot a contemptuous look at Queen then looked at me. She again took her good time to respond.
“Kwani the Supermarket has been destroyed? You are the one telling me. And if you know I was part of the destruction, then you know whom I was with!” shouted Makena.
“You are talking like you know something that some of us do not know. You do not recognise my relevance! You stole from my supermarket and you insult me on top of it!” Queen shouted back.
“So has the shop been destroyed or been stolen from? Anyway, I am not part of either or both and any other of your mehe mehes!” Makena shouted.
“When you see a dog barking, look for its owner,” Queen said, bringing the shouting match to an end.
“You see, you are shoutingly (sic) silent as that girl insults me. Just like I have always suspected, I am the odd one out in this house,” Queen said, dejectedly.
Now, good people, tell me what I was supposed to say in such a situation. The two drama queens of the Palace are capable of creating a very ugly scene in the hotel thereby denting my hitherto good name in the Happy Valley society. I chose to use a more peaceful though expensive method of solving the problem and avoiding marital Siberia.
“I will help you re-open the Supermarket. Just give me a week and we will be good to go,” I pleaded.
That whole drama was Queen’s way of seeking sympathy and if I did not show the same, the automatic reaction by Queen would have been to touch the re-set button to marital Siberia. “Thanks my dear,” Queen said. And with that, the remaining part of the Sunday was lovely and romantic.
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