Frailty, thy name is woman

By Timothy Bamwita, Uganda:

Wonders shall never cease. They aren't absolutely limited to the great “eight wonders of the world”- my mother certainly being the eighth. I recall a time when an acquaintance from my neighborhood got into a bitter argument in the wee hours of the night – that threatened the peace of every immediate neighbor's beauty sleep, into an inquisition to what havoc was happening. Oblivious about what had transpired, I lazily strolled to his door, flung it open and my sleepy eyes immediately popped in dire bewilderment. His wife held a machete as she mumbled some inaudible savagery threats to him. I wasn't about to witness a murder or attend many court sessions accounting for the demise of a neighbor. I wildly wailed loud enough to attract a seemingly responsible crowd. Warren had been caught in an uncompromising situation with his maid and was in fact stuck. He had been charmed by his “evil” wife for special effects like these. He looked like a dog that just got stuck after mating. Talk of African skies being blue indeed!

That said, Warren had a reputation for amorous dalliances with lower class women and his friends took to imagining or joking that bars had provided him series of new mistresses often times. So this was no surprise. Sanity eventually prevailed after we convinced the wife to forgive his promiscuity and consider breaking the charm. She again mumbled some very inaudible incantations while touching the victims' stuck fundaments – setting the culprits free. I noticed Warren's sigh of relief as his facial expression quickly dampened from “beggarly” to shameful appreciation. We spent a few hours at their home trying to harness the disgraceful situation. If memory serves me right, I remember we invoked him to seek remorse; to which he even further pledged not to shelve and estrange his marital vows in a bid to stop his wife from selling out pictures of the dishonorable incident to a popular Ugandan tabloid. It worked!

I returned to my cold bed later that night to tuck in what was left of it. I could barely sleep. The particular events that unfolded that night couldn't tolerate my eyes getting nudged into once again sweet sleep. I pitied Warren whose forty days were over; in contrast to my very own unintentional emotional misdeeds that equally got me on tenterhooks. But all my consoling mind offered was a mere c'est la vie. Warren the dog as many called him thereafter reformed enough for all to notice that his ardent notoriety turned into self imposed commitment to his wife without being inveigled by any of us that had pledged to play big brother to him. Talk of the power of unfamiliar African pious Justice!

So, cognizant of the fact that many take the plunge down the aisle and make a whole lot of traditional vows to each other; I on the contrary shall marry when I deem necessary after vigorously examining my would-be suitor to tie up such Warren-like lose ends. Such would be damning to a man of my pedigree. Warren served a sacrificial lamb to then the available would-be philanderers. At least that was the effect on me. I took to watching Cheaters – a US based reality TV show dedicated to the faithful and “the falsehearted”. As to whether they actually succeed at bridging the gap between the unfaithful spouses with their disgruntled lovers through busting them on National TV- is a totally different thing all together. But while I merit them for exposing the evil in cheating, I find it a feeble approach towards solving love related troubles. On the brighter side though, I at least get to watch the drama unfurl and learn to elude under cover spies that may provide highly classified information about my “significant other” to my missus. That is if fate allows me to chance on one anyway. Talk of the true dynamics of demand, supply, and diminishing marginal returns in love economics!

As Warren had initially given love a bad name, the justice that ensued gathered his long lost senses together and relinquished the invisible pull towards many females other than his spouse. There are always second chances in life. In the words of Reagan: A woman is like a tea bag. Only in hot water do you realize how strong she is.

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