Mama Wizzy’s dilemma

There once lived a man named Zachary and his rib Elizabeth. The two had high blood pressure because whenever they tried to execute the order given to their greatest grandparents to populate the earth they drew blanks. Unlike Sarah who, finding herself in a similar crisis, told Abraham to change the job description of their mboch Zach and Liz remained loyal to each other as Kenya is to corruption. Being stout followers of their Creator they did not visit the doctor from local Kitui. Their Creator, being the doctor of doctors, struck a miracle that saw granny Liz give birth to a tough kid called John. In case you have forgotten John is the fellow who preferred locusts over beef. He is also famous for baptising JC, his cousin, and having his head harvested as a gift to a miji miji called Salome because she could dance dombolo.

Fast forward, there is a resident of Kiandutu who is having high blood pressure and sleepless nights. And no, she is not drawing blanks. She served her order of filling the earth in her day and that is why among the 45m Kenyans there is Supuu and Wizard also known as God’s Property. She laments having sowed just two seeds, both of which fell on the rock. She could have done more if only someone somewhere had not come up with the gospel of family planning which went against the order given to her greatest grandparent at the Garden of Eden. She swears that if she could reverse time she would fill the earth on her own.

Mama Wizzy is a worried rib because Supuu and Wizard, Munyotoku’s ambassadors into the future, are yet to take part in population explosion for reason which she cannot start to understand. She is regretting now for following the opposition because, as she says, the name of Munyotoku Wa Mung’aru is on the verge being forgotten.

Mama Wizzy never gives up easily and that is why whenever I visit home she approaches me and says, ‘Kababa,’ that is Mama Wizzy’s way of penetrating my armour. ‘When are you bringing the princess home?’

At this point I start regretting my visit. If I suggest a possible Mrs. Wizard exists Mama Wizzy will board the next bus to the city under the sun. To make light of a serious crisis I tell her I am still waiting for the beautiful ones to be born. Mama Wizzy demands to know what would have happened if Kamau wa Ngengi alias Kenyatta had not replaced his rib and given his mother a grandchild by the name of Unye. I tell her that Joshua would have become the cockerel of cockerels and taken us to Canaan.

At this point Mama Wizzy looks as if she will cry and laugh at the same time. She decides against either and her expression changes to that of mheshimiwa whose sitting, walking, running and sleeping allowances have been taken away. She asks whether I am what she carried for nine months and, since I have no answer, declares that some irregularities and illegalities must have taken place at Pumwani.

After deciding that I am dead stock, Mama Wizzy approaches Supuu who is admiring the portrait of a rib who was born and brought up in Gichugu. The rib goes by the name of Iron Lady. Before Mama Wizzy can open her mouth Supuu demands to know why anyone should entertain slavery in a jail called marriage.

“A day will come,” I say to no one in particular but Supuu throws me a look that suggests she is ready to commit murder. As it were, Supuu is a grand-rib of Wa Nderi hence she is also a vessel of very brave blood. For one reason or the other she did not turn out to be a Conje and teach other ribs one thing or two with her fists. She does not seem poised to become a Martha Karua and terrorize fellow mheshimiwas either. Instead she chooses to terrorize me for all the problems of men, real and imagined.

Telling myself that humour can build bridges I accuse Mama Wizzy of bringing forth an incarnate of Wangu wa Makeri. In case you have forgotten, Wangu wa Makeri was a rib who lived before you and me and loved having a man on all fours as her rocking chair.

But Supuu sees no humour in my statement. Instead she warns that calling her Wangu wa Makeri is slander and that she is a feminist. Before I can record ‘feminist’ in my brain for research Supuu unleashes tougher vocabularies among which are ‘affirmative action’ and ‘gender equality’. She crowns it all by declaring that she cannot be barter-traded with goats and cows just to appease anybody.

At this point I smell an outbreak of gender clashes and since I don’t want either of us ending up in ICC or in a coffin I point out that I was misquoted.

Just like Zack and Liz Mama Wizzy is a stout follower of her Creator and that is why she vows to sow a bigger seed coming Sunday.



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