Mr Survivor: This is what I had to do to remain relevant in the Palace
I have always longed to upgrade to a car that Queen would approve.
‘Desperate times call for desperate measures’. This mantra has never made more sense to me than during these hard economic times. To remain as the incontestable king in the Palace, I had to think outside the box-like hovel I call Palace. My security of tenure as the head of the Palace has increasingly been threatened by Queen’s exponential social, political and economic growth.
My Marshal Plan aimed at arresting the ominous storm that threatened to consign me to financial oblivion, which would automatically lead to my marital death. You see, despite being the proud owner of the all-weather and terrain tested and proven Volkswagen Beetle, Queen has never given it her seal of approval and was not showing signs of doing so in the near future. As you all know, she has been calling my car a tortoise. Further, she says that it is a source of financial and marital embarrassment.
As a result of that marital harassment, I have always longed to upgrade to a car that Queen would approve. That would kill two (three) birds with one stone. First, it would caress Queen’s ego thereby lifting my standing in her eyes, mind and heart. That would earn me instant marital airtime and redeemable bonga points to last me a very long time. Now, peace at a man’s home is a mood buster which in turn acts as a motivation to achieve more.
Second, a better car would attract clients of class and that means more money. My financial worth is an important factor that determines how Queen treats me at the Palace. Finally, an upgrade of my car status would automatically upgrade my social and political status at Happy Valley and beyond. I would overnight gain admission into the class of sonkos of Happy Valley countryside and beyond. Granted, a car is not only a rare commodity but also a significant status symbol this side of Kenya.
I therefore “hung” my name at my Sacco where I had to do a lot of pleading because it was already ‘blacklisted’. This sorry state of affairs is a common feature of men of my variety. “The government of Kenya survives on loans, who are you not to have a loan?” wags aptly argue.
The loans manager was very “sympathetic” to me and agreed to hide me. Of course, I had to ensure that he was adequately watered at Happy Valley Grills. I therefore got the amount of cash I required for my project of the year. With money in my hands, it did not take me long to be the proud owner of an example of a good car, a 1990 version of Volkswagen Passat. For those who are not initiated into the field of vehicles review, the Volkswagen Passat is the beautiful car that Prof Njuguna Ndung’u, Kenya’s cabinet secretary of finance, rode to parliament to deliver this year’s budget. My new catch caused a stir in the entire Happy Valley.
On Wednesday evening, the Passat made its maiden entry at the Palace. The most excitement came from the Palace choir. For long, I have been promising my family to upgrade from what Queen calls a tortoise to a decent and manly car.
“Is this your car or a car hire?” Queen asked when I parked the car in the Palace.
“Have you ever heard or seen me drive other people’s cars? Do I look like a mfugo? I am my own man with his own money and a name to protect!” I answered.
“God has finally saved us from the embarrassment you have fed us on for years,” Queen said.
“Baba ako na gari mpya,” yelled the older of my twin boys. The others joined in a happy welcome of the “gari ya baba.”
They got in and insisted I drive them around. Because it was late in the night, I just reversed to the gate of the Palace and drove back to the parking area.
Sure enough, I have experienced a very big change—for the better—in the way Queen treats me.
“I am now very proud to be associated with you. A man should be a source of pride to his family,” Queen said the following morning as she looked at the car.
We will be holding a strictly family only homecoming party for the new arrival at the Premier Holiday Hotel, at the outskirts of Ol’ kalou town this coming Sunday. And from the look of things, it seems I will kiss goodbye marital Siberia in the Palace. How I hope that my assessment is correct. To my new catch, long live beautiful Passat.
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