COUP
De’ TAT. TAIL TURNS HEAD
By Tickler; Son of the Unquenched.
A military overthrowing
the government is a common phenomenon so is a rebel or a militia. The coup is a
bloody affair in most times and that’s what makes the whole ordeal unpleasant
and unfathomable. Consequently, you rue tenure as a president when such an
occurrence arises during your reign. Catching wind of a brewing coup as a
president of a country sends shivers of cold sweat down the spine. However,
since a military coup has been there since time immemorial when a human was
thought to be a cousin to a primate or a Neanderthal, in the Stone Age, it’s
not perturbing. At least in my opinion, I do not find a political coup
perturbing.
Military coup aside, a
serious coup has taken prominence and this is perturbing. It’s a coup involving
humans at the smallest unit of society, the family. A coup de’ tat involving
spouses, commonly known as head and neck of the house or better still, family.
I prefer head and tail for the purpose of this story. The good book of the
Supernatural famously referred as The Bible, created the head to mean husband
and the neck in reference to wife. The Holy book, which I pledge my allegiance
to, claims that the wife originated from a single rib of a husband who was once
called Adam, therefore giving forth to a being in form of a woman from a man. Since
the Bible created the head and the neck, some era before Christ was born; it
has not been updated albeit eons have passed to get us to the current century
.The 21st Century to be precise. I therefore tend to propose to the
most eminence that inspired the content in the good book to consider these
trying times and update it consequentially with these times. What I am asking
is a new edition of the 21St Century!
I should also tell His
eminence the Supernatural that since He created the head and the tail, a lot
has changed. The ‘tail’ as men believed and still do when it comes to
considering women, has since refused to remain at the posterity of the heads. The
woman thinks that the so called head has wagged the tail one too many times and
she is fed up to wherever. The head has since been overthrown by a coup de’ tat
arising from a tail that shed off its old skin from a beast known as
empowerment. The head’s existence save dominance is threatened.
The head will have
itself to blame for its demise. I being a head by nature makes my heart skip a
series of beats when I comprehend the tail’s resilience and total impeccable
chest thumping. I blame fellow heads for the suffering of ego and dignity
within our perk. One of such men with a hand in igniting our doomsday in form
of a coup de’ tat against heads is my friend and neighbor Mwaura. Mwaura is suffering from alcoholism for his frequent visits
to Mama Pima’s den for kanyuaji. He has had one too many of Mama Pima’s glasses of illegal brew to
the extent of sending his body nerves, hormones and muscles into a state of
irresponsiveness and total slumber.
He earns peanuts from
his employment whose designation is a truck driver cum loader. That does not
deter Mwaura from wetting his throat
at Mama Pima’s over the weekend. The
kind of brew that he utilizes would not pass a lab test anywhere on this planet
let alone in a lawless country like our neighbor Somalia. The brew steams and
evaporates from the glass and dries up if not swallowed instantly as fast as it
was poured in. He gulps a series of such glasses over the weekend before
embarking on a journey to his house at dusk. I call his walk home a journey
considering the time he takes from Mama
Pima’s, a stone’s throw away to his house. In the state of intoxication, a
two kilometer walk for Mwaura is a journey. It is a journey of a thousand miles
and thousands of steps. On reaching his doorstep, amid staggers, falls and
recuperations, he knocks the door with his foot and parks at the foot of it.
Parking in this context means sliding against it with his back, sitting on the
floor and leaning his back on it as he awaits his wife Wangeci and his herd of children to open the door. Snoring may even
follow suit.
Often, I overhear
quarrels with Wangeci and her pile of
a husband as she calls him whenever they pick up a quarrel. Since her husband
has turned out not to be a professional teeter taller, he has earned himself
several names that aren’t pleasant. Once the door falls ajar, Mwaura’s herd of children and their
mother drag him into the house against the scurry floor. No sooner does he get
into the confines of their small unit of a house than the whole family rises
upon him with blows, kicks and tantrums. He mourns in pain like a toddler. I
have in so many occasions played a good neighbor and offered help to my friend seeking
to save him from fury of a scorned woman and it hasn’t been pleasant to me
either. For every dent received from this perk of predators by my friend, I
received my share too. I have healed too many of those scars arising from the
beating administered by his wife and children and I can no longer be of
assistance. I have had enough!
Instead, I have learned
to enjoy the tantrums from Mwaura’s
wife towards her husband. They are a rib cracker! Apparently, my dear friend
can no longer attain an erection let alone sustain one if by any chance it
comes to heed. Mama Pima’s brew is
the main culprit for this as his wife alleges in high pitched tone of voice
heard across the board. Wangeci
complains that her man can’t fulfill his conjugal obligations and that she is
in a state of sexual starvation. She continues to blame Mwaura for forcing her into bearing too many children and
restricting him to a household budget of a thousand shillings per week. She
continues to remind him that she hails from Tetu
in Nyeri County and risked his life
if he continued in a manner that is detestable. She gives an example of their
youngest child depicting the malnutrition that has engulfed the children due to
lack of enough food. Wangeci claims
her dowry arrears entitled to her parents and reminds her husband that he
doesn’t own her. Her last action to her beloved alcoholic is to frisk her
husband’s pocket for any remaining cash before ordering their six children to
drag their father into the bathroom and run the shower with his clothes on. She
promises that he is bound to spend the rest of the night there until he gets
sober. “After all, I do not need a log beside me on my matrimonial bed” Wangeci says. That statement suggests to
me that truly, my friend and neighbor can’t neither attain an erection nor
sustain one! Coup De’ Tat, tailor made from Nyeri
County!
Compiled by Tickler,
Son of the Unquenched
Kevin Murungi
©Rights Reserved
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