There is a silent protest kind of a revolution that is building up among middle class women, a quick check on various Whatsapp groups and other social media indicate the largely professionals ladies are getting tired of the curfew, they can’t wait to go back to work, meet colleagues, do coffee with the ‘girls’ and do once a week mad sex at home with hubby etc etc.
With the curfew in place, husbands are stuck at home 24/7, many do not have hobbies, no EPL soccer, they do’t read, can’t meet boys over car wash on Sunday or head to the local joint for a drink, all they do now is sex and more sex, day and night!
Sample this post by Aoko Otieno that has since gone viral:
I cannot begin to imagine the kerfuffle going on in these homes between married folks.
Lady Rona is bludgeoning unions with wanton asunder. Wait and see, the fulcrum will not hold for many of these marriages after the pandemic.
You would assume couples hurdle on the couch, with memsahib barking orders at the Mboch, and Papa admiring his brood, smirking at the efficacy of his loins…The patriarch and matriarch listening to Sam Fan Thomas while waxing nostalgia over their youthful days?
Self- quarantined men now have all the time in the world to stare at their toddlers and shudder at the striking resemblance baby Jayden bears with the Pastor.
Why wouldn’t Jayden look like the Pastor? When you treat your wife like an elevated housemaid? Yes, she found solace in the church. The evening devotions. “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ”- Yes, the Pastor helped you in your neglected duties and no, I did not write the Bible
With the imposed curfew, you cannot go out to the local pub to flirt with the barmaid and suck the bottle everytime your wife begins screeching like jalopy. You are now stuck with bloody radio Nya Ugenya. Ever ranting.
Mama Rhoda, your headache excuses can nolonger work. Mzee has no alternative, Sabina Joy is closed. He follows you to the bedroom at 2pm in the afternoon. Like a Zebu. Your libido Malaysiad after your 4th born. His touch feels like a cockroach is crawling on you. He spends the day reading newspapers. Scolding the kids. Eating. And climbing you. He deposits his ageing seeds in you with a warning- Hii uchumi, siwezani na mtoto mwingine. If you get paged, you are on your own.
Oh, and the squabbles over grand mullah. Mama Boyi wants to kill the entire household with mboga mayai. A protest from baba watoto is met with a …
“Sasa nikukarangie matiti yangu ama?” Aah, but you had an MoU that you handle rent, other utilities and kids school fees while she ensures family is fed.
Oh, and did you try the praying mantis stingo with your wife? I can imagine her response… “Hizo style unafanyanga na malaya wako usiniltee…” Same her will whine at the chama that you mate like a cockerel- within seconds and zero verve.