The Day a Man Marries

On that very day a man marries, the woman weds. Yes, on that very day one marries, the other weds. You may see it in his eyes. Or maybe in his best man's. Or maybe on his suit. His best wedding suit. It may be written all over it. Or in the confidence and 'pettyness' with which he holds anything. Or how he holds everything. Or in the distant feeling within the stealth in his eyes. He's getting married… and you surely will see it in the way he sniffs the air around him. Differently. Nonchalantly. Busily. But easily. Yes, that's what happens to a man the day he marries. 

On the day a man marries, another one is born. The old one dies. Maybe partially. Maybe completely. Maybe forever. Maybe not ever. But, whatever the case, another is born. Different from the first. He dies. The old one dies. And a new one is born. Maybe quieter. Maybe more solemn. Maybe passive. Maybe not. Well, sky over earth, another is born. And the new one almost always kills the old one. Almost always. He has to in order for him to survive. The old one fades away as the new one takes over. Yeah, I know. I know this truth that the old man may want to sneak in from time to time with a desire to kill the new one. I know he has a way with not wanting to completely vanish - where he intrudes the new man's privacy and new life. But be that as it may, he can never take over the new one. It is true.

On the day a man marries, he tightens his belt. He also tightens his heart. And his eyes. He tightens his heart. He then weeds the garden that are his thoughts and often looks at the framed picture of his dad, err, his  father. Quite often. He looks at it with wonder. He wonders just how fast he's joining his league. Then he chooses to change. He changes his walk, his talk, his hiding; and even the way he smirks. The day he marries he grows up. He has to. He becomes a leader. He rules his world. Not with fists and terror, and bother, but with diligence and fervence and love. Yeah, he may toddle in these ways, but he steadies fast. He grows up.

Oh that day a man marries, he becomes a perfect stranger to himself. Even to his OWN mirror. Even to his own walls and corridors. The whole earth becomes an alien the day he marries. And he wonders why. And how. And what. But it happens. It is what happens when men marry.

So when he marries and picks up a new pair of shoes at the altar - shoes he has never worn - and the crowd is gazing at him; some in bewilderment, some with regret, some with desire and others with fury; when he marries and they are gazing at him in that way, let him remember that beyond that day, his surroundings will scream at him louder with expectancy with every passing moment. He should know that the very congregation that is cheering him on is going to expect much more than the veils and suits or flowers and balloons he has offered to display. It is going to want so much more than he (together with his partner) can afford to give. Let him remember (I am told) that the one wedding him in this day needs him - she'll be needing him for a lifetime. That she is now him, and him, her. That they're going to build bridges and hunt lions, and deers, and rabbits, and troubles together. That they're going to cry, and sing, and feel bored, and feel like giving up - but they'll need to hold it together.

I am told many things about 'the day a man marries', but above them all, what I hold onto most is: when a man marries, the Lord God is right there with him. He is there with them. He is watching and is waiting to lead him and bind him to the one wedding him, and the best thing he can ever do (while joining hands with the one wedding him) is to learn to daily tell Him (the LORD God who created them), "Dear Lord, here we come again…" I am told that the unison of those words makes ways through mighty rivers and can calm the most fierce of fires and storms - but first, he needs to marry…

Note: This one I dedicate to my two buddies, Antony and Ben, being bound to some very awesome ladies out there.
Guys, remember that many things DO happen when a man marries, and each one is for his own good.

Bonface Morris.

Of Weddings, Fashion and Christmas Gatherings

Hi guys!
The festive season is here, and with it will come all kinds of fabrications, swaggafications and complications. Save your breathe for another day, because you may or may not like what is going to be happening around you in those paintings of fabrications, swaggafications and complications; but it will happen anyway...  with or without your approval.

As always, we are going to witness the meanest and most weird kind of behaviour amongst the various people(s) we will meet. The main agenda will be about feasts, weddings, travelling and partying; boasting, mimicking, ranting and paranoia; it may end up boring or thrilling you – and for that I don’t really care – all to the sovereignty of intermittent bliss. In sortof short, people will be yelling into your well-bred ears about things you may never want to hear, things that you may end up wishing had been shouted louder before somewhere in January when darkness looms over people’s pockets, or in the depths of February when Valentine is whispering good nothings into lovers’ lame ears... and you may or may not end up being the same person you were in November or in early December... A surge of fluctuating interests is going to be torrential within you, and you may (or may not) pretend to be concerned, but well-the-more you are going to be consumed in its fieriness...  

So in that concern, I will only play around with the fun in a few of those so-called weddings, ‘fashion shows’, shadows of fun and Christmas gatherings... zingine utajijazia...

To begin with, let me tell you something about my take on weddings because as a refresher to my trifling dislike for them, I attended one last Saturday. Yes, I attended a wedding.

Side note: I don’t dislike weddings as in ‘dislike’, but I just get bored that I should attend them or be involved in them... Weddings are good... they are of God...what is of God is GOOD...
Weddings may bore me (Wololo! Um just a man, sawa?) but weddings are most interesting. Weddings have things only shared with funerals – crowds, pomp and over-extended emotions. From weddings you are likely to gather up things you may never gather in funerals though; like over-fetched and almost hysterical happiness.
Weddings have always made me promise myself that I will wed one day. I choose to promise myself like that because I have no liking for gatherings where people meet to look and gaze at two people they've been seeing for a long, long time all along as if they had just dropped as a perfect bundle from heaven - and all in the name if celebration!
But I honor weddings. They are an epitome of the rapture. They have their origin in God. That makes them cool: because they are inspired by God.
Ok. Maybe weddings are done differently where you come from, but they can be quite disgusting to the fashionista or the pious ‘style’ fanatic who may accidentally stumble upon one from this side of the earth. So, if you are fashion sensitive and have a liking for order and civilization, I beg you, yes, I beg you not to attend my wedding or any wedding from these sides of the world.
But to solve that, lemme show you on how to do this wedding thing my ‘civilized’ way.

Here's my take:

About gifts, you may just send me the gift you had for me via my innovative channel, where I will only accept cash [solid cheddar] rather than those funny and rugged maua gifts people waste good money on. I’ll be introducing M-WEDDING: a great way to send gifts (especially money) to a wedding couple... haha. This service will not be in collabo with any network but just a simple way to get your precious money (which will then become my precious gift from you) into my ever-receiving pockets... Also don’t bring me plates, cups and so on... I’ll already be having enough... hehe but please, I beg you, ask either for my bank account number or my M-PESA number direct from me for easier and less hustling transactions, sawa? Please don't attend the wedding with those funny gifts, I beg you... Amen? Please say "Amen!" Thank you.
About fashion, allow me to do my thing. If you ever will be attending, please allow me to make my so-called steam of youngsters to wear the fashion of my liking: no funny ties, no weird colors, no oversized coats or dresses, not mismatched clothing, no oversize shoes, no rugged fabrics (as if we all may be going out to slaughter hens after the wedding). Allow my wedding to be cute and swaggarific, I beg you, sawa?

About food, bear with me that we won’t be cooking all that funny food you are used to in weddings... hehe... Why should we cook you such food anyway, huh? If you aspire to eat such food, come with your own packed lunch or go buy yourself lunch...!! *Hiding*... But there will be lots of cakes, sawa? Cakes and conscious food. This is because a wedding is a celebration, and celebrations need ‘conscious’ food, not blubbery...

In addition to these boring weddings, there are also these so-called ‘family get-togethers’ where you meet flabby people of different cultural likings pretending to like each other's company, meeting somewhere in a remote place in the name of family - ultimate shadows of ‘like’ and ‘love’. This is what you may witness when you will travel upcountry like myself;
Most of the time after travelling upcountry, town-bred tomboys with hawky eyes will move around subduing the whole village into swaggarific stupors. The locals will always hate them and spread unruly gossip about them... And after evening creeps in, an analysis of eating behaviour, sleeping style and clothing [read fashion], fluency of language and lack of electricity will emerge... always done in whispers lest the walls announce the deadness of such moments...
Then you will bury your face in pretence when you hear such things like;
While using town-bragga, a town-bred lass will go something like this: "Kwani hawa wasee wanaishi aje kwenda bathroom in the open?" Then the ka-relative of hers sitting quite close will go like, "Tutakaa huku mpaka lini? [and while smirking] Sijui mom alifikiria nini kutuleta huku...!!" “Umeona vile wanakaa kama pumpkins kwa hizo nguo zao?”, she will rant... and the other will look boringly at her and not say a word...
Yet still, on a table next to them will be an elderly lad and a younger one conversing: "Dude, ati tuna-share kikombe! Hawa watu walizaliwa wapi?" And the other holding a smartphone with a dying battery will go like, "Nimeenda hiki ki-tao/centre chao na hata charger ya phone yangu hawana! Kisha ati wanataka ku-charge my phone [also smirking] [my phone!] na car battery...!!" hehe...
Before them, in that dimly lit room, will pass one of their so-called relatives in funny shorts, and they will look at him with owl-like eyes, Googling the whole of his stature with their eyes, and in the end feeling "Yaaaaaaak!"
Their "village comrades" also out of swaggaphobia will be hiding under a shack somewhere whimpering and whispering terribly hot gossip... [While speaking vernacular]
"Wanadhani wanaown hapa kwetu? Eish! Wakwende huko!"
"Wanadhani tutawaabudu? Eish! Wakwende huko!"
Another one will go like, "Nitawamwagia maji kwa bed. Nitawashow sisi ndo wenye hii place!"
Yet another one will go like, "Na kile kingine [referring to one of the innumerable tomboys] kinaonyesha nani tumbo? [Because she will be wearing more spaghetti tops and bare-backs]. Tumbo imejaa minyoo utadhania kina mimba! Kesho morning nitajifanya ni accident nitakapokimwagia maji kwa nywele...!"
And the ranting will go on and on for 7 good days... you can only imagine how those so-called get-togethers are a relief to many after ending...
Imagine I've not talked about the different cuisine and "maendeleo-ya-hapa-na-pale" talk amongst the elderly in those get-togethers; and the way "things should be done" code appearing and re-appearing here and there whenever the shaggs people will be correcting the town-bred ones . Oooops! It really gets hefty. Quite hefty my friend.
In short, I beg you, yes, I beg you, not to attend those gatherings. They will spare you a lot of stress, pride or low self-esteem... hehe...

Have a grateful festive season people... and go enjoy yourself somewhere...!!

Morris.