Obviously Nyeri women are mad about something their men are doing. Were the recent cases rare acts of revenge for past ills or were they a product of unchecked abusive behavior that had been ongoing? Women are by nature nurturers and caregivers, and when they resort to acts of violence they cannot be ignored.
Yogi Patano had a perpetual misunderstanding with his wife. This always translated into bitter exchange of words and flurry of adrenaline- charged activities. They could break furniture, electronics, deface each other’s cars, or make dents on their house walls during their fits of rage.
Kenyans are faced with not only the mother of all elections, but also uncertainty as to when to elect our president, senators, governors, MPs, kanjoras, and a whole caboodle of elective posts.
I have heard many a woman complain that their men became ‘monsters’ as soon as they hit the jackpot. When money starts flowing, problems flow into the relationship with it.
There is panic in our beloved country. It is so tangible you can feel it in ladies’ conversations along the streets of Nairobi and in their voices when they call in to radio stations to discuss relationship issues.
There is this man that I will call Evans. He is the man who spells trouble for every woman in every corner of the universe and that is why we seek help today.
Just to refresh your mind, Baba Soni had lived in the US for 25 years before the bug to relocate back home started to bite him a few years ago. He finally made it a reality last year and his story was told in these pages a while back.
For trying to change that irresponsible boy into a respectable man, every woman should own up, beat her breast and confess, “Mea Culpa, Mea maxima culpa.”
When I ponder on the happenings in my village, I am cognizant of the fact that what is happening there is a microcosm of the bigger village. For you see, outside of my village is the inside of another global village.
One can listen with empathy to Edna’s story. A successful banker in Nairobi turned almost into a beggar just because her address changed from South B Nairobi, to South Boston.
“I have reached the end of my rope,” Edna sounded a woman defeated. “I have to make a concrete decision ASAP.” I could not fail to notice her lips twitching with trepidation. This was three Sundays ago when I met with Edna after a church service.
Nobody knew where he came from, his age, or his relatives. What everybody knew was that Maiko had been around for as long as the village had existed. His tribe was also a mystery to many since he would not divulge his birth place.