I will tell you a story about how, not long ago, I locked eyes with a stranger, a man, and we proceeded to share a brief but intense and revealing moment.
It started with me wanting to make a smoothie. I’m from the school of thought that a smoothie has to have a banana in it. Otherwise, why bother? I hear there is a small tribe of primitive humans who hate bananas. I’m lucky I haven’t run into one.
I wanted to make a smoothie because my eating habits have been deteriorating sharply of late and we all know that you are what you eat, and going by that adage, I am a glutton. It doesn’t help that in this dying and jaded era of COVID, the fridge seems to follow me everywhere in the house like a house dog. Notably, I have recently greatly increased my intake of chapatis. I have taken to folding three chapatis at a go, which isn’t so bad if I was feeling remorseful after. And that’s dangerous, when you stop feeling guilty. When you stop giving a toss.
There was a night I was watching the final two episodes of Michael Jordan’s “Last Dance” and although I had eaten dinner two hours earlier, I impulsively put the kettle on and threw in half a chapati in the microwave to warm. I ate that and felt no guilt. After ten minutes, I started thinking about the half chapati I had returned to the fridge. I just felt like it was a bit pretentious and insincere to leave that half chapo uneaten. It’s not like it would cause diabetes, I thought to myself. After a long (64 seconds) sober debate I figured I wouldn’t concentrate on the final episode of that series with that chapo still in the fridge. And Jordan deserved better. So I warmed and ate that too.
That’s been happening a lot lately, chapatis just tempting me and me not resisting them. We are talking three or five chapatis a day. I can’t be left alone unsupervised in a room with a chapati. I don’t fear COVID, I fear what chapatis are turning me into; weak-willed and gluttonous. And it’s starting to show around my gut area.
So I started making smoothies to distract my body. To lessen the guilt. To fill a disturbing hole of inadequacy that only a chapo has always filled. I set on a path to be a better man, a momentous task faced with the temptations of chapos. And from making smoothies I made a discovery; that if I emerge with a skill from this COVID season, it’s my adeptness at making smoothies. I didn’t know I had it in me. The trick is to throw in a banana, whatever it is you are making. A banana is the elixir of smoothies. And good health. But a word of caution; don’t overdo it…to say, don’t go bananas. Just one or two bananas is fine. Then you can throw in other things; baby spinach, chia seeds, pumpkin seeds, almond milk, pawpaw and maybe a mango. (I don’t particularly care for mangoes).
This material day I needed supplies.
I drove to Quick Mart, Lavington. There is a reason why the first thing you see when you enter that store are bananas, of course over and above serendipity. A ripened, yellow banana exudes joy and warmth – a ripe avocado could never hold a candle to that. Or ripened pineapples. No matter how ripe a pineapple is, it will always feel like something that can prick you. Like a porcupine. You don’t want to make a smoothie from a porcupine now, do you? I don’t care how ripe it is.
This time – hanging at the entrance – were some very old overripe bananas with dark underbellies, like they were crawling under a tunnel. If bananas could get stretch marks, those bananas had a lot of them. I stood there and bowed my head somberly, like you would at a wake. Thankfully, there were some more bananas arranged below. I picked a beautiful bunch while acutely aware of how hard it must be to be a fruit. Think about it. Shoppers come and look you over, inspecting you to see if you are worth their time and money. You have no choice in this as a fruit. You are a slave in a market. To be a fruit you can’t afford to wear your emotions on your sleeve. And you can’t take it personally because your whole life is spent being chosen or discarded and being taken home even by people at the very bottom of the food chain; people who still wear briefs.
You have no hand in this process. The only thing you can be is the best fruit you can ever be. The rest you leave to the gods of nutrition. We shall never know how fruits that have not been chosen feel at the end of the day, when they have to be discarded, their whole lives ending up in a bin where, I’m sure, conversations about “purpose” must happen in earnest.
I also picked some baby spinach, a tender name to give a vegetable. But the thing with baby spinach is that they never grow up. While they weighed my fruits, I heard a low psst psst and looked up to see a pawpaw looking at me. I had forgotten to pick one so I went over, picked the pawpaw and whispered, “Don’t do that. This is not Koinange Street.” It wasn’t the best looking pawpaw; bruised in certain areas and looked like it had led a very rough childhood. A loveless pawpaw. Only reason I picked it was because it was proactive. Some fruits, especially the very good looking ones, normally just assume they will be picked because they look good. It’s shallow. But then most of us city dwellers are shallow.
Take oranges for instance. Oranges are the most deceptive of all fruits. They are always bright and in good spirits but often you get home and peel one only to discover how bitter it is inside, a bitterness that comes from deep-seated issues. So I’m always very careful with oranges, because what you see isn’t always what you get. If an orange had a twitter handle it’s bio would read; people say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing every day.
At the grains section I stared at the groundnuts a little too long. There is this myth that groundnuts are powerful grains that make a man virile. That we should all keep some in our pockets, nibbling on them throughout the day. I decided that I didn’t need it. Besides, groundnuts bloat me. So I looked up at the lady seated behind one of those drums bearing the nuts and smiled at her. “Sasa?” I don’t know if she smiled back behind her mask but I saw her eyes narrow, which could mean that indeed she smiled back or she grimaced. I inquired where I could get almond milk. She pointed.
At the till, some guy in a jacket at high noon stood too close to me even though there were clear markers indicating social distancing. I’m used to people like this. Most people don’t bother to read anything; signage, instructions, traffic lights, dosages. I could hear him chew gum right behind my ear. The whole store could hear him chew gum.
My phone rang and I stared at it for a while before picking it.
“I thought you were going to look at it ring and ignore it,” the caller said. “That would have been awkward because I can see you.”
I chuckled and looked around. He was paying at a different till.
“I see you grew a beard,” I said.
He stroked it proudly, like you would stroke a favorite cat. We men are so uncomplicated, really small things thrill us. Like a grown beard. Or a new pair of tyres. I bought this fancy silver measuring tot in a Remy Martin gift shop in Cognac, France and it’s the only thing I can save in a burning house.
“How’z biashara?” I asked.
We had the usual phone conversation people have now; quarantine, e-learning, lack of business. We asked about each other’s children (“I gave away mine,” I told him. “Last in first out kinda thing”), then we promised to meet up after COVID. I then took the staircase to the rooftop where I had parked just near that place which refills milk, I think. It was one of those very hot afternoons that the sun bounced harshly from the bodies of parked cars.
A car away I could see a fellow standing outside his car with a small child who must have been three or four years old. The only reason I noticed them was because of that child, a little baby doll wearing socks in that heat and snub-nosed pink shoes that made noise when she hopped playfully on the spot.
As I popped open my trunk I heard a female voice; a harsh-edged voice, matronly voice, displeased, harangued and urgent. She was castigating the man, saying something to him about him not having “brains” for bringing the child out in the hot sun. “I don’t even know how you think sometimes,” I remember her saying. I caught a glimpse of her as I closed my boot, she was loading a bag of shopping into the car. As I made my way to the driver’s door, I happened to look at the man standing there taking the heat and that’s when our eyes met. Normally, we would have both looked away but for some reason we held each other’s gaze. This moment might have lasted three or so seconds but it felt forever because of – what I would learn later – was the significance of that non-verbal exchange.
I drove away.
I thought about him on my short drive home. I thought about him as my blender whirred and churned, the ice-cubes crashing and rattling. And over the following days the man and that child would occasionally cross my mind. I remember his silence, his resignation. It sounded loud in my head, like an echo in a cave. His silence, it seemed, had somehow normalized his situation, at least from that brief moment we interacted in that parking lot. I wondered what was on his mind as he got a hiding. Was he thinking, “This too shall pass?” Or “Silence is the best medicine.” How thick had his skin become? How thick can one’s skin become? I narrated this story to a friend of mine and he said simply, “that man knows his escape.”
Sometimes I picture him at home sitting in the living room in as small a ball because the smaller you are the less a target you become. He’s hiding behind an old newspaper, his tea losing its heat next to him. I wondered what occupies his mind when he’s in bed. Where he gets his validation. What makes him feel good about himself? I also wonder about that little girl, if one day she will grow up and remember that hot day in the rooftop parking; the fire on her mother’s tongue and the resounding silence of her father. I wonder what adjectives she will use to describe her father when she’s 12. Or 20. “Stoic.” “Wise.” “Calm.” “muted.” “mousy”, “faint.” And how that incidence might shape her view of a man.
Mostly I think of that look we exchanged, strangers, yet brothers. That intense look that evoked a strange feeling in me. I felt shame for him and embarrassment for myself. Shame because I saw him in his most vulnerable state, in his weakness, in his nakedness. The one language that we share as men is ego and pride, and he had none at that moment he was getting an earful in public. He was clothed, but his nakedness was stark. I intruded on his vulnerability and was embarrassed to be a witness.
I still think about him occasionally, almost a month later. And if he’s reading this, I hope he never lowers his chin.
Oranges are the most deceptive of all fruits. They are always bright and in good spirits but often you get home and peel one only to discover how bitter it is inside, a bitterness that comes from deep-seated issues….. just like 2020.. very promising lakini WAPI!
This woman at the end is like the orange described above, though we are not told how she looked..
What do you call people who fall in love with fruits because am really starting to have feelings for them ⚪
About the stranger May we grow to be calmer humans in handling situations
They are known as Fruitarians
Not sure how I will react if my wife embarrassed me in public
The naked men out here are many, but keep the silence brother. i can relate
Naked like a voiceless fruit awaiting “her” fate
Or maybe he was crying for help with his gaze.. « Please dial 911.. Hurry «
Poor fellow. Covid 19 lockdown and now wife. Life is hard.
I feel your pain though I don’t know what’s wrong with briefs ?
The Fruit’s Descriptions were just superb
Too Bad Men are Raised in a Society where from their Tender age they’re taught and expected to Man up, not Lower their Chin and Never act vulnerable Not forgetting they’re also human Beings, they are hurt, they do cry and need a shoulder to lean on or someone to open upto
The manipulated man!!! some good woman somewhere decided to educate men on atrocities women have committed to men since time immemorial…this man deserves a copy!!
Such comments come from not following instruction given by the missus.You give someone simple instructions and they cant seem to do anything right.And no I am not the lady in this story
But surely, aren’t there better ways of handling the situation?
And shouting at him/her in public achieves what, exactly? There’s something called tact. You should Google it.
I wouldn’t be surprised if that lady’s ire had absolutely nothing to do with what she was talking about. Chances are she was already peeved by something else and was just unleashing on the dude. No one deserves to be spoken to in such a derogatory manner.
I thought that too
I didn’t know fruits could have a life too! Biko you have a way with words.
I feel sorry for the little girl – she will either do the same thing to men or end up being passive-aggressive like her dad. If only we understood the impact of our behavior on children, we would do better by them.
By the way I am one of those who doesn’t eat bananas and I feel zero 🙂
“He was clothed,but his nakedness was stark” that description really hit me hard,to all men going through this hope you never lower your chins.
Chin up my brother, we are in this together. A cold shower will thicken your skin. Try it sometimes.
Plus discard the briefs and walk free.
Men suffer through this silently, but Karma soon catches up sooner or later. Always give a brother a pat on the back..reassure him that his life still is important. It is not easy being a gentleman, but after much observation in these circles of this galaxy, there is no honour in being a good man …you will not get a trophy in heaven too for being a super dad. Nevertheless do good and be good. Exit the earth when time cometh and be fodder to termites.
‘Only reason I picked it was because it was proactive. Some fruits, especially the very good looking ones, normally just assume they will be picked because they look good. It’s shallow. But then most of us city dwellers are shallow.’
I bowed with you at the entrance Biko. The way you brings things to life is amazing. Thank you. Go easy on the chapat.
Interesting, i have now developed a likeness for smoothies minus the pineapple. I wish you find the man and get to know his story.
Yes I don’t like bananas, now you know someone who doesn’t … An amazing description of fruits
Our behaviour as spouses greatly determine If our kids will ever choose marriage.
If they ever do,.most become paranoid and leave at the slightest provocation. They are avoiding a repeat of what their parent tolerated for years
I get it Biko. A wise woman or man knows that the public domain (this includes children, house help, visitors, our parents, friends) is never a place to raise your voice against your spouse. It feels terrible even for the woman to be castigated in public, it takes away our covering, all of it, everything. Someone feels like they are walking the street nude as nude can be.
,i live in a world where its my mum who is quiet my dad is the one who shouts,scolds even when all he is saying ,now,is like a song you‘ve heard forever literally, he said it last year, last year but one ,nothing new but ooooh there is noice alright! Kwaaanii?what happened to keeping quiet, to letting go?to giving people peace?
Biko, you should never, ever, talk ill about avocados, priis!
We women should stop scolding men no matter what they have done, especially in public…..You hurt their ego and they hate it and hate you in return
A man’s response to disrespect is anger. Don’t be deceived by their silence.
Let me tell you, as a 31 year old single woman, i grew up in a house where my mum was the ‘shouter’, screamer. When you are young its just domez, but then you grow up and view men differently. My last rshp i noticed i was turning into my mum, blowing up for no reason, short tempered and angry. I decided to exit the rshp and work on my anger issues. Find out where they come from.
2 years single and am still working on myself.
The man should link up to #MasculinitySaturday..
Then the nagging will cease.
This is so deep. Men are really getting striped off and left naked out here. It’s only that nobody wants to talk about it.
Sigh..,complicated story. Allow me to say about your smoothies , God bless your heart as Southerners would say.Please find out about a Jane Mukami and do it…differently, then you will get the gut results you want.
I am one of those fiery ladies- trying my damnest to not dress a man down in public but I fail to fathom how an independent grown ass CEO type- can be so …there I go again. Here’s the crux of the matter. Men in general put their A-game for the boss- because that’s where his bread is buttered, and at home he throws his brains out the window. Women have their A-game on all the time. It is effing annoying… that said, I can do better but Pastor Mwebi says sometimes men only hear at certain decibels…&)@“:
I so feel what you’re saying. This is one side of the story.
why did you have to snitch on Chapati so much.you made me feel cold at the groin area.Chapati had nothing to do with this man.
Well done Biko.
“…People say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing every day.”…
Kukuleleshwa in public is just shameful and embarrassing…He was clothed, but his nakedness was stark.
I escaped, though briefly. Thanks Biko.
Poor guy. I wonder how many more are going through the same especially now. Men out there suffering in silence.
Masculine nakedness is painful to experience. Painful to watch. But even more painful to be watched. Unfortunately it is usually from what is supposed to be his primary source of affirmation: the wife. She knows him well enough to know and feel his vulnerability (and this works both ways). The careless and insensitive comments therefore cut deeper than similar comments from dukawala boss (no racial offence intended). And even deeper because it is in front of the child who thinks of her dad as Superman (well, not anymore…). He probably picks his fights; i.e. deal with the boulders and let the pebbles slide. Just 2 problems with this: (1) if public humiliation is a pebble, I dread to think what the rocks boulders look or sound. (2) pebbles tend to pile into untidy heaps (what the counsellor types call bottling up). So when his eruptions do occur, they are likely to be all molten lava. Leaving both battered
About oranges: I prefer the local ones. But selection is a true gambling act. Pick any 5 and you will get the following: 1 sad, shrivelled, dry. 2 sour, unripe. 3 So so. 4. Yummy. 5. Juicy but flat taste. I once asked a vendor to help me select. She saw the skepticism and picked one of the selected ones at “random”. Lovely. But when I got home the rest were kawaida. Poof
“as small a ball because the smaller you are the less a target you become” Waaaah! we women need to learn to do better. But the amount of laughter I have laughed, wacha tu
Nice. A place where you get validation. mmmh
Hope I’ll not be that woman who exposes the kings nakedness
You are here my brother
I have never been left speechless like I did reading this piece. I have been brought up in a family where none of my parents raised their voices nor scolded each other in our presence.
And it’s rubbed on me. I’ve never imagined myself raising my voice at anyone male or female, but I have & know female friends and acquaintances who will speak like this to their boyfriends & husbands – in public. And I get embarrassed on their behalf…
I dunno, I think it has a lot to do with the upbringing?
I feel sad for this and the many other men who go through this.
This is happening in many households especially in this covid era.
Would………sad, why do people get married and stay in marriages that are not worth it?
“This too shall pass?” Or “Silence is the best medicine.” How thick had his skin become? How thick can one’s skin become? I narrated this story to a friend of mine and he said simply, “that man knows his escape.”
This is too shall pass.
C’est la vie ✌
May he always keep his chin up.
I wonder what adjectives she will use to describe her father when she’s 12. Or 20. “Stoic.” “Wise.” “Calm.” “muted.” “mousy”, “faint.” …This has really got me., How will that daughter perceive his Father?
The one language that we share as men is ego and pride, and he had none at that moment he was getting an earful in public. He was clothed, but his nakedness was stark.
I still think about him occasionally, almost a month later. And if he’s reading this, I hope he never lowers his chin
The little girl’s view of a man, I think, judging from your perception of this incident, might shape up to be “one who is open to rebuke”. And that wouldn’t be too bad, would it?
Maybe she’d think her dad is stoic, women sometimes don’t really care about men. How could you do that to a person in public. I feel sorry for him, he’s strong willed a man of demeanor. I admire his silence. It’s what it is..
If women only knew how men feel in such situations but i think they know thats why they do it to make us feel that way
I tear up if I see someone humiliate someone else in public. It’s just the saddest.
Check out my blog, I was taught by Biko 😉
Hello Biko student
Great piece, Chocolate man!
For you to belittle you’re little.
Never find your validation in people, activities, situations etc the other gender goes through this all the time even in a more inhumane & intimidating ways than the verbal abuse.
May this thing called male ego and pride which has no place in the 21 centuary be replaced by some logical virtue!Why would one feel less of person simply because they are financially low,and allow others to use you as a doormat.
I look forward to the day we shall realize that we have no input in what gender we are.Being male is not a guarantee to life of success neither is being a woman a source of failure.
And thus it should not be used as a yardstick on how to treat each other as pain is pain to everyone and everywhere so as joy.
Anyway,the two need to sort out their issues and more importantly each to redefine themselves on who and not what they are as person.
I heard a low psst psst and looked up to see a pawpaw looking at me. I had forgotten to pick one so I went over, picked the pawpaw and whispered, “Don’t do that. This is not Koinange Street.”
Every man wants to be the “Cock that crows and all the other cocks goes silent” at least with his family; now when you take that from him isn’t he truly naked? I think no man wants to be the one asking who is wearing the pants in this house? By the time it gets to that point I imagine it is almost over. I wish him peace and an antidote for that poison tongue.
“very old overripe bananas with dark underbellies”. Reminded me of the soft white underbelly interviews.
indeed, some silences speak louder than words.
The old bananas sound like plantain .
Stoicism takes it!
My heartd breaks for that man. I pray that his litle girl doesn’t take after her mum.
No need to feel sorry for the guy. First he is the one who chose that woman and second, he probably knows what he didn’t or didn’t do to set her off. Also can men just give us a break with this pride and ego nonsense. It’s a false front that they never live up to behind closed doors and that’s why they end up getting yelled at in public.
Would it be okay if the situation was reversed? i.e., the man scolding the woman?
It doesn’t matter the gender, there is always a better way to solve such issues.
I compare it to your boss scolding you in an open plan office. Never a great feeling.
Men do worse things to women in public everyday. BIG DEAL.
Well said Wacuka. PERIODTTTTT.
Nice read as always. And indeed oranges are very deceptive.
But those people who insist on standing right behind you, breathing the same air, what’s your problem?
Its sad,i would hate to be asked if i dont think.
Take oranges for instance. Oranges are the most deceptive of all fruits. They are always bright and in good spirits but often you get home and peel one only to discover how bitter it is inside, a bitterness that comes from deep-seated issues. So I’m always very careful with oranges, because what you see isn’t always what you get.
Same to bitter people…always appear calm
Umeishusha hadhi parachichi kwanini ?
The same applies to mothers who scold their children in the same manner in public. It does a number to the confidence of the child and the child will resent that parent.
Hapo kwa chapo I can relate
My Husband’s obligations (well spelt out in the bible as they may be) are not my right. That is for God to deal with him about. And vice versa. May all couples learn and know this and choose their battles and build each other up after all we are all in this school of hard knocks. All of us plus our children. Including that lil girl. Especially the lil ones.
Fruits have a way of calming the nerves.. .
Some women are demons. But why is he still there? I hope it’s not for his daughter. Because even she would be bitter with him for staying.
If you grew up in a home where there was a strong matriarch who made rules that everyone in the home adhered to, you tend to view such scenarios as perfectly normal. Outside the home, you observe her putting people in their place regardless of their gender and surprisingly, it works.
On the flip side, men brought up.in such homes tend to be beta-males; overly respectful and humble which are positive attributes, but on the other hand indecisive and always waiting for a strong woman to come and take over.
But indeed, let men in such environments think creatively on how to run their homes peacefully and in an orderly fashion. Sometimes it may mean overlooking such misdeeds in favour of peace, or staying on their spouse’s favour. They live together so no one is better in deciphering his women’s love language than he is.
What is everyone’s favorite fruit?
Banana. It’s a peeling
Why are oranges the smartest fruit?
Because they are made to concentrate.
What is a vampire’s favorite fruit?
A blood orange.
What is a scarecrow’s favorite fruit?
Bananas are the most popular fruit in the world.
I guess I see the ap-peel.
My mom has us all on a tropical fruit diet. the stuff is everywhere.
It’s enough to make a mango crazy.
I enjoy canning fruit.
Food preservation is my jam.
Two fruits wanted to sneak away from their parents and get married in the forest
But sadly one of them Cantaloupe
Wow ..just wow…. masterpiece….and I totally relate to the oranges
Nature of a king as a habit
“I intruded on his vulnerability and was embarrassed to be a witness” …… so well phrased.
I love chapati too, especially freshly made ones from whole meal flour.Delicious!!!!
Captivating read especially from the part where your eyes locked at the rooftop. I hope you meet him someday and tell us his story.
Always beautiful read. I’m still thinking about pawpaw that you picked. I think about stuff like that when choosing anything. I tend to choose the lesser one coz it feels bad everyone else overlooks it……..
Spouses should respect each other n sort their battles in a mature way. Its not about gender, no one has the right to shout at another , kwanza mbele ya watoi, not good at all. Lets respect each other, even if bcos of this Covid for example, the hubby aint able to provide, as wives, lets not forget all the times that our husbands provided. Its time to give back, respecting them fully. This too shall pass. Lets not take our frustrations on each other.
Am i the only one who was waiting for more?A sit down with that naked king would have been good for a start.Maybe he would raise his chin……
How thick can one’s skin become?…………..
Witty, interesting read.
With an ego, the man would feel naked but without it, in his calm demeanour, he is being superhuman and setting a great example to his daughter. He is beyond pettiness and doesn’t let human follies get to him. He exudes more confidence and wisdom in his silence and that is powerful.
Not many people will look at him in that light because they are also driven by ego, but in his spiritual being, he is actually a lot more clothed than naked.
Most popular opinion: Good read.
I’m still trying to figure out if quick mart is in lavington or kileleshwa.
Well I don’t know where to “draw my boundaries” … Few will def. Get this one.
Dude you can do everything right and still be treated like Trash, people don’t value character they value who they want and it’s a sad situation. I always say, treat someone bad and it shall be done to you sooner than later.
The Naked king.
How dare she to undress His Majesty .
Infront of his subject & the heiress.
She deserves utmost punishment .
Her position as Queen dethroned and a search party for Biblical Ruth to start Earnestly
Good piece Biko…. Keep writing
Minority opinion: this was an uninteresting story
So true about the oranges, on point kabisa. Aki though the three chicks I swagged who loved avocado were all terrible in bed. There is a link between bad sex and avocado.
These lungulas were pre-covid? Let’s hope so because human behavior must change kama sio go and have a test or this virus will us all .
Phahahahahahahahaha. We are here for fruits Mzee where did bad sex come into the conversation. Hapa ndio covid imetufikisha?
Gaaatho, I feel so attacked. I looove ovacado. Warrathis
Hahaha. Ukweli kabisa.
I think I hate pineapples now…
In the defense of over-ripe bananas: they make the most tasty banana bread. I intentionally let bananas get over-ripe in my house as I anticipate delicious banana bread.
I ran into one of the primitive people who hate bananas, Nduta, i know you will see this. And that stranger reminds me of someone i know.
Lakini avocados are overrated…..
Toast bread was your chapo addiction for me….
Let talk about the briefs first
Laban …thank you for introducing me to bikos blog and making me fall in love with it.
The smaller you are the less a target you become. Just the imagination of the sitting posture of the guy on the coach in his own house. Goodness me.
That is so funny and true, the monologue part….unparalleled..
I have a shameful confession – you’ll write descriptive non-ficition (like the week before last), or touching stories about a little nomad girl’s ambition (last week); and yet this is the story that will enthrall me. Because it is you making daily observations about things I can relate to in a manner that makes them new and funny…
A Fine piece.
First part felt like I was watching some fruit animated movie… And then the last part whispered to me something like “don’t marry”.
I still think about him occasionally, almost a month later. And if he’s reading this, I hope he never lowers his chin.
This is an interesting one. We are all in the same boat though. During this time we may be tempted to eat unhealthy as most of the times we’re at home. It’s actually a great time to reflect and change our lifestyle.
This is an interesting one. We are all in the same boat though. During this time we may be tempted to eat unhealthy as most of the times we’re at home. It’s actually a great time to reflect and change our lifestyle.
Yup, sometimes as a chap the easiest course is to not counter the tirade.
It is a nil sum game.
Let us say you reply and counter reply and shout back! Your kid freaks out at the rage, your wife blames you for arguing and scaring the kid, you lose!
Maybe you win the shouting match, with a brilliant stroke such as ‘I was only bringing her round to this side so that you could hold her while I put the contents of the trolley into the boot!’ A momentary win because she will be like, ‘Why didnt you think of that earlier, every win is only round 1. So we are back to the beginning!
If you participate in the argument you get to a stalemate, then for the next couple of days there is an inextricable need for pots and pans to be moved around as you watch the conclusion of ‘Last Dance’ or whatever series you like, stony silences in the bedroom until you make peace by saying ‘Sorry for making you upset!’
If by miracles of miracles you do win the argument (I have heard it happens) there will never be an admission of losing. All that happens is her buttock moves nearer your instrument in the bed and bam it will never come up again!
So commiserate with the chap, that is why we meet to feel happy in the bar!
Me: Is Covid -19 testing relationships
Expert: Not really, relationships that were meaningless and had no solid foundation were just exposed during the pandemic.
Prognosis: Mr. now is the time to leave or stay and feel the wrath of being belittled.
That is a low vibrational, dead-end relationship.
The King is naked…because his uncouth queen ridiculed his ego in a grocery store… smiles
…”…No matter how ripe a pineapple is, it will always feel like something that can prick you. Like a porcupine. You don’t want to make a smoothie from a porcupine now, do you? I don’t care how ripe it is…”…
I relate this to the good-looking ,sweet ,light-skinned girls that our eyes as men get attracted to.
Weuwe…. it is a rough world out there for Men.
Wait. You gave away your kids? 🙂
On a side note, that man probably had the worst afternoon back home as you sipped on a home-made smoothie. Poor man!
Interesting to see, by the presence of the little girl, where people’s foundations for relationships are laid.
Kip the chin up
There’s like a million little stories in here.
Wow I never thought of fruits that way before.
This is good.
Be careful who you marry. The biggest prison in the world is a home without peace.
So I am not the only one receiving Morse code from chapos in the fridge huh? At some point I genuinely hear something straight from a horror movie akin to tortured souls wanting to be released from captivity or maybe that’s just too much t.v. Amazing piece.
“Take oranges for instance. Oranges are the most deceptive of all fruits. They are always bright and in good spirits but often you get home and peel one only to discover how bitter it is inside, a bitterness that comes from deep-seated issues. So I’m always very careful with oranges, because what you see isn’t always what you get… ” are we still talking of fruits here?
Amazing read.As always.
Bad wife. Early grave.
Biko, you start with an amazing story, only those that finish your piece will know what the story is all about.
Many kings out here dressed yet not. Chin up men. Vows must go unbroken..
You are probably the best writer on the continent.
How do you fall in love with fruits? how
New tyres are exciting, it doesn’t matter that you see them very little. Great read
i adore your writing
Oh no. A tongue lashing in public for any man- a boy included is hurtful to his pride and by now, half the world should be aware of this very much talked about fact. Anywaiz, He needs to know his chin up is a very strong statement too.
This read was witty, out there and sometime’s misleading; but the best I think I’ve read in a long time.
I was laughing out so loud that all my workmates had to read it too. Thanks Biko
i love this
The man at the parking lot must have gone through that before so he saw no need to talk back
I don’t fear COVID, I fear what chapatis are turning me into; weak-willed and gluttonous. And it’s starting to show around my gut area… This statement just left me in tears. Good work man
Personification at its best application …I enjoyed the story you gluton
The stranger must have been expressing his vulnerability to you through the gaze,my heart goes to men who hurt in silence……may you find peace.
This one fine evening, I passed a guy. Smartly dressed. Very handsomely in tears. He didn’t see me staring or I hope he didn’t. I still think about him.
What could have happened. Does he ever think of that day?