The Contemporary Woman

Tag: Marriage

  • They Say the More The Merrier; Could that Apply to a Wedding too?

     

    After sixteen long years without attending a wedding, this past December, I attended my cousin-sister’s wedding. It was such a lively and beautiful wedding! The unbelievable thing about the wedding is that it was planned at the very last minute. We even joked about how the committee had only two members 😂— the bride, and ‘‘Short Joyce’’ (we are 5 Joyce(s) Nyambu the First, Joyce Murimi, Pretty Joyce, Me, and Short Joyce; but that’s a story for another day)
    You know those stories you always hear about how fundis will frustrate you? I finally had an experience of my own.
    The day before the wedding, we went to pick our bridesmaids’ dresses. Being a jubilee wedding, we had chosen Kitenge fits to be unique. Oh, and yes, it worked! When we got to the fundis we had trusted with the dresses, we were utterly surprised.

    Make no mistake, saying that we were utterly surprised is a serious understatement. Three dresses were complete and done well (though not to our expectations) but my dress couldn’t have been further from the design I wanted. As if that was not enough, it wouldn’t even fit me! The grudgingly annoying thing is that one of the girls who worked at the shop implied that I was the one wearing it wrong! Let’s give her a name, she seemed like a Pamela. So, Pamela insisted on trying to (allegedly) help me wear it “right”.  Now have you ever been suffocated by a dress and you can’t take it out?! That was me at that moment. Thanks Pamela, but you almost choked me to death with a dress! You probably wouldn’t believe me when I say that that was not the worst-case scenario but it really wasn’t. One dress was not made and the fundis didn’t know it! They literally took ‘‘Pretty Joyce’s’’ measurements then, and started looking for her Kitenge fabric. Ooh, you’re wondering what time it was for us to cause an uproar. It was almost 5. p.m., on the eve of the wedding! 😂

    And while we were all panicking, the main fundi in the shape asked, ‘‘si bora ikue ready before harusi?’’ And yes, that was it, and fortunately yes, she did deliver. We picked the dresses at around 10 a.m., and they were ready! And now that that stress was done, it was time for the much-anticipated wedding.
    The wedding took place in St. Thomas A.C.K Huruma with a total of three couples. Now let me tell you the pros and cons of a jubilee wedding. Now I know that the obvious pro everyone knows about is on the aspect of money and you are right. Jubilee weddings are a great way of having a budget wedding. For example, at the wedding I attended, the church funded the food, which was a great save for the couples. But then again, one of the couples who had the wedding had their private reception at a different venue so they did not conduct the wedding because of the budget savings. Still, I would never have known about that had I not been told so it is really not on the list of the pros I observed.


    Now to the pros, I observed,


    You know the saying, ‘‘The more the merrier?’’ Yeah, that’s true! The wedding had three couples so more attendees from their various families. Imagine having three entrances in three different songs, dances, and bridesmaids in different outfits, how beautiful is that?
    The second pro, the occasion was indeed a celebration of love. We went to the wedding for our couple-Nyambura and Njihia-but that did not mean that we did not celebrate with the other couples. We cheered just as much when it was their turn to perform, give out their vows, dances, and speeches. And vice versa was true, at the end of the wedding, there was a surprise birthday celebration for Njihia (Nyambura the bride had secretly organized and got the cake) and you should have seen how the other couple and their people sang along!


    The third pro is quite an interesting one and might seem far-fetched but here it is. I believe the wedding gave the couples confidence. If you ask me, a wedding is more like a performance. The couple getting married is literally on a stage performing to a huge crowd. This can cause them serious stage fright, especially when they are naturally shy. In a jubilee wedding like Nyambura’s, there are several couples at the stage which could ease up on the stage fright. At the beginning of the wedding, our Nyambura was extremely shy, and so was the other bride I kept tabs on, Lucy. (I have to say, Lucy was such a happy bride. She could not wipe off the smile of her face which was just so beautiful) However, as the wedding continued, they gave each other confidence, stopped being shy, and gave us quite a show dancing.
    The last pro I observed, no one can argue with – the wedding was a great way for people to appreciate different tribes and their cultures. You know that bride I enjoyed watching, the one with the permanent smile? She and her husband were Luo. Nyambura and the third couple (the Munenes) were Kikuyu. Now back to Lucy and her people, they played really beautiful Luo songs when it was their turn to perform. And the way her people danced, you just found yourself swaying and dancing, even when you could not understand the music. I remember seeing my cousin on one of the ‘‘dancing circles’’ of Lucy’s people and she said, ‘‘Nī gūtahwo’’. Directly translated, this means ‘‘I was scooped’’ which is the best way to say she simply got swayed.


    Now to the cons,


    I only observed two cons, which unfortunately are huge deal breakers to a Jubilee Wedding.
    First, there is a lack of privacy. The main con of a jubilee wedding is that it is not private. You have to share your special day with other couples and their people. So, if you don’t view it with a ‘‘the more the merrier’’ perspective, you will find it to be a huge invasion of privacy, inconveniencing, and too crowded. This applies whether you are the couple getting married, or a guest to the wedding.

    Secondly, the wedding could feel like a competition. It is in human nature to be competitive. Thus, in a jubilee wedding, the couples will find themselves comparing themselves and their teams with the other couples and competing in terms of outfits, dances, wedding arrangement, among others. In this specific wedding, Nyambura decided that as the bridesmaids we should wear kitenge outfits so that we would be ‘‘unique’’ and stand out from the rest, in the spirit of competing. Also, at the end of the wedding, I remember us saying that we had won because the wedding switched to Njihia (the groom)’s surprise birthday celebration. Now I don’t know what we were competing, but we won 😂😂

  • Unlearning, and Relearning the Definition of a “Broken Home”

    Unlearning, and Relearning the Definition of a “Broken Home”


      Working from home, I mostly love to sit in my bed (my office) and write alone in the silence. It is so quiet and serene which is great both for my thoughts, and my writing. Although sometimes it can get too comfortable that I lose a whole day 😭. Today, my quiet was interrupted by the wailing and screams of a woman, whose voice sounded familiar. These screams followed a loud thud from what I believe was a man hitting her. The thud sounded again and this time, she screamed even louder. By then, there was commotion as I started hearing the voices or two more women, and that of a another man—aside from the attacker.


      The argument continued for quite a while and I couldn’t help but thank God their older kids were not around to watch—being a school day. I could not quite comprehend what they are saying because they are speaking in Kipsigis, but I could hear the clear cut pain and hurt in her vibrating voice. To be honest, such incidents scare the hell out of me 😱 However, every time I pray to God that I never become that woman on the receiving end. I always find myself thinking, but that woman never asked for it either. She too, prayed to never be in that position and yet there she was.  So what makes me think I am so special?

      You know the saddest thing about such cases is that sometimes—most times—these women stay. They stay, hoping, and praying that it gets better. Because when is it really the right time to leave? And you know, sometimes it is not about traditions and the aspect of women being told to stay, “vumilia” and pray. It is not about, “ what will people say?” It is about a woman who still sees the good in the man she loved. A woman whose heart still has not come to terms with the fact that that man hitting them, is not the same man they fell-in-love with. I woman whose heart is so broken, but one who still loves.  💔💔

      Over the past two years, I have seen so many of these cases that, I have involuntarily turned into a really bitter woman. It is very unfortunate for me that I might never see marriages and partnerships in as much positivity as I did before. Or was I just naive and living in a cocoon of the Disney happily ever after? — I loved it better there.


      I read on a blog I love (they had  shared the post)  that the society should stop viewing single mothers as to having broken homes because theirs is not the typical home of a father, mother, and children.  Their homes are not broken, they are a conventional home, and happy family of the mother and her kids. Broken homes are unhappy homes filled with chaos, homes where the children live with parents who are always fighting, or homes where the parents do not talk to each other. Such homes and families are so broken that they can only be best described as roommates!

       Whenever I hear a child scream because they saw their dad hit their mother, or their mother throw something at their dad and it almost hit them, or the story of how such events happened, my heart (even in a movie, because having seen it in real life, I no longer see it as just fictional acting) I imagine the pain, confusion, anger, and resentment in children brought up in such homes, and how it will affect them as adults, and I wish I there was a prayer, or a magic potion that could make sure they happen.

      Visual Representation of a Frustrated Boy


      You know I wish there was a way the contemporary woman could tell and know that their long-term relationship and or marriage would not work in the future. That the person you trust will one day turn into the one that wrecks you, and the family you built together. Then we would simply let them go when it is easy. Because honestly, teaching your heart to leave when you have spent 15 years and shared 2 to 3 kids with them, (and you don’t know who you are without them) that has got to be the literal leap of faith.  Sadly, most women do not get the strength to choose themselves and do it. Instead, they choose their families; they stay for their kids.  They just are oblivious of the fact that they choose broken families themselves and their kids. We really need to unlearn, and re-learning the definition of a broken home.

      ❤❤❤❤

      Nyambura Macharia

    • When Is it the Right Time to Leave? (A Happy Ending).

      When Is it the Right Time to Leave? (A Happy Ending).

      During my 24th year, I made the first female friend after finishing campus; I might even say, the first lady friend I drew out of “life”. By this I mean, all my other friends have been school-related; primary school, high school, and campus friends. But with her, it was different; she was a friend I made while doing life as an adult. Of course, this might explain why we have so many differences. But, luckily, it also explains why our friendship grew exponentially in such a short time. I liked – and still do – listening to her because she has a more extensive experience in life than I did since she had left school before me.

      When we started getting close, I learned that my friend was having marital problems, so to speak. Sometimes, I would find her crying, and while she tried to hide it, I could tell she was dying inside. Then, there was this day she came to work with a swollen face and a torn lip. Just like it happens in the stories we read and the movies we watch, she lied to everyone that she fell in the bathroom while taking a shower to protect her husband. It’s not like she even had a choice; the man was hovering around to ensure she did not tell anyone of what happened. A churchman with the perfect image wouldn’t want his reputation tarnished now, would he?

      It was quite a controversial position for me to be in. I did not understand why the man, who looked so innocent and loved his two beautiful daughters, would be such a monster when it came to his wife. Worse still, I never said anything; I just kept quiet. I could not rebuke the man for his actions because I was not even supposed to know what happened in their marriage. And if I stood up for my friend and said something, he would probably beat her more at night because she told me. He had actually done that once, beaten her for disclosing their issues to the church. According to him, she was out of control and destroying his reputation in the church. As time passed by and the incidents kept repeating themselves. I realized that, in reality, life was not black and white.

      Why didn’t she leave you ask? She was waiting for the perfect time to go. She lives with her niece, who is in class 7, and she wanted her to finish class 8 first. She did not want to disrupt her education. Also, she tried to save as much money as possible to make it easier for her and her girls to start life. Yes, life is not black and white.

      Of course, the perfect time never came, and it finally dawned on her that by staying, she was risking her life.

      March 28th, 2021, a Saturday, marked the beginning of my friend’s life. She finally decided to leave, and for a whole week, she made a grandiose plot to do so. Frankly, I thought she was bluffing when she called me and told me she was leaving in three days’ time. By that time, her plan was already in motion. I just did not know it yet. She had packed a few utensils, enough for her to start life and just enough so that her husband would not notice anything was missing in the kitchen. The following morning at around 6 a.m., she brought them to my house for me to keep them.

      At this point, despite my fear of getting involved, like the coward I am, I knew I had to help her. That was when she told me the plan. She was to leave on Saturday when her husband was in church. I did not know how she was to organize and meet her daughters yet. It was already on a Thursday, so she only had Friday to complete her plan. That day, she made a call to the man who supplied her with fruits for her grocery store and made an order. She made sure that her husband overheard the call. However, he did not know that she was ordering them for her friend, and it was all meant to make sure that he was not suspicious of anything.

      That same Thursday, she moved the clothes had packed to a nearby shop for storage. She also made arrangements and paid for the house she was to move to, and by this time, everything was already going as planned. Then, on Friday, she told the husband that she would be going home to visit her sick mother on Sunday and asked for some money for shopping. Ironically, he supported the idea and even told her it would give her room to go and think of what she was telling people about their lives. Of course, that hurt her feelings, but she did not even react. She was tired of arguments, and she did not want anything to jeopardize her plan. At this point, she was so nervous and anxious that she could barely eat.

      Finally, the night which according to her seemed too long ended. It was Saturday at last. She prepared her two daughters and niece to church with their father. He was used to her not joining them for church. He did not always go with the girls to church, but on that day, he asked her to prepare them so he would take them with him. He must have been suspicious of her, but he knew she would never leave without them. Therefore, taking them to church with him was what he felt he was smart enough to frustrate anything she had planned.

      What he did not know was that she had already seen that coming. She planned with the niece, who is older, and made her carry a phone. It was to stay on vibration mode to call her when she was done packing everything in the car. Oh, I must have forgotten that part. She had rented a car for the “escape.” She was not to pick the call at all. When she called her and the phone vibrated, the girl, let’s call her Lindsey, informed her uncle that the youngest soiled her diaper and she forgot to carry one from home. At this point, the uncle would give them money to buy a new diaper. This would allow the three kids to leave the church without him being suspicious at all. I mean, if they did not return soon, he would only assume that they decided to go home and change the diaper there. I know, genius, right?

      So everything went on as planned, and the girls left the church. When they got to the road, my friend and I were waiting in the car, and they quickly got in. There was a slight hiccup in the plan, though. My lady friend, whose name I’ve chosen not to mention on her request, had forgotten to carry her gas cylinder. Not to worry, her niece went and picked it really quick. Had us panicking for some minutes there. But God was on her side, and in no time, she was back, and we were on the road. I had never seen her so happy. She literally started singing. Despite her constant fear of the unknown, she was certain leaving was what she wanted. Fast-forward six months and here we are, we talked on the phone yesterday and she tells me the only thing she regrets is not leaving sooner. She is happy now, and we, the contemporary women, should be happy for her!

      ❤❤❤❤

      Nyambura Macharia.

    • What It Means to be a Strong Woman (A Personal Story).

      You know what they say that when you get a wife, you get a good thing? Or that the best decision a man can make is to marry a good woman? Well, all these assertions are correct! However, I believe and have come to learn that the most accurate approach to marriage is that, whoever you choose as a life partner, make sure they are kind. You are probably wondering where I’m headed with this. Give me your ear, and I will explain.

      In 2015, my maternal grandfather was diagnosed with an illness, which I cannot quite fathom, except its symptoms. He started suffering from dementia that has significantly progressed over the years. He began forgetting people and places to the point that he could barely talk. After multiple hospital visits in different hospitals and seeing various specialists, it was revealed that his condition was irreversible. The doctor who seemed to understand his condition best explained that there must have been a time when my grandfather could not breathe, and his brain did not receive oxygen for several minutes, which is what triggered the illness. This theory makes sense because when my grandfather was first taken to the hospital at the onset of the illness, he had just visited his older sister. During that visit, he is said to have slept in a room that had been locked out for a while.

      Now, back to the main agenda of the story.

      With all his children married off and leading their own lives, they can only visit him so much. As such, my grandmother is my grandfather’s (her husband’s) main caretaker. She is entirely devoted to taking care of him despite the struggle. At this point, my grandfather, with his condition, can only lie in bed. My grandmother feeds and takes care of him like he were a child. I visited him last month and what amazed me is that despite the work and the hurt she must be in seeing her husband in that state, she never complains. She is still hopeful and has faith that God is in control.

      During our visit, my mother, her daughter, could see how disturbed I was, and she told me,

      “I used to come here, and whenever I am about to leave, I always left feeling sick. Then your grandmother told me we have to accept things for how they are, and apart from supporting her emotionally and financially, there is only so much that we can do.”

      Deep inside, I could not help but feel like I had failed my grandmother since I do not communicate with her as often as I probably should. My fear of the situation made me shy away, and I only ever asked my mom about her and how she was doing but rarely asked her directly. This, I swore to change.

      The beauty of the whole situation is that my grandmother, despite everything, still remains hopeful, generous, and very selfless. Because of this, you just cannot help but feel like you do not deserve her. But you know what, God does protect His people because my grandfather has my grandmother to take care of him. And she has people who support and care for her, even though I feel that what we do is still not enough. But as she remains hopeful and strong, so do we.

      So, you know how people call famous people their heroes; my grandmother is mine. Because she is quite literally the strongest woman I know.

      ❤❤❤❤

      Nyambura Macharia.