No woman likes to be passed as being insecure or come off in the slightest way doubtful of who she is and what she has to bring at the table. She would rather put up a façade that she can even bring the table let alone what she is offering. Women put a certain intensity of faith in what they think, do and who they are with. The latter of course is the Achilles’ heel if it happens to be that they are with a man. Sorry lesbians but the boyfriend in the relationship is not a man or rather wasn’t born a man but she can be a man (homosexuality blurs me) But who am I to come in between a woman and her sexuality? Or is it a man and her sexuality?
If a woman can have it all from a Phantom dipped in coal black paint with the interiors covered in white crisp leather, a house big enough to accommodate Vera Sidika, Kim Kardashian and their counterparts (I do recognize their derriere as another person) rooms covered in ceramic marbles with a touch of finesse that gives off an impression of wealth and class, shoes running in her closet like the jam from Nairobi to Rongai. To top it all off she is a loving wife; the type to drop everything if her husband comes down with a flu (might be Ebola but she wouldn’t give a damn)
She wouldn’t ask for anything because she is well accomplished and her wealth tails her from the moments back in history. She would work hard to keep her accounts in check but she wouldn’t give a second thought to shower her partner with a Porsche on his birthday, a trip to Morocco on a Sunday evening, club going up on a Tuesday. To many she is idolized but behind closed doors, she is nothing but a woman who suspects her husband of infidelity, money laundering, wealth parasite and with too many calls in the night like it’s a calling(literally). I wouldn’t date a doctor even if he tranquillizes me. (Confession)
You at the prime of your life, basically doing what people say “living life” but she is always on a prowl that the man of her dreams should have stayed in her dreams. At least that way she would have more dreams than nightmares of her husband being shared among the scum and ratchets of the society.
But she is wrong; “a woman is always right until she is wrong”. He works at odd hours just to be the bread winner of his family; a little taste of being the head of the family. He craved to pay the bills for the month but his wife would cash out all the bills for the year. He wanted a type of recognition in his home whereby his wife would let him fix a loose door knob or the annoying recoil of the pantry door that occasionally slaps him from behind when he goes in; but his wife was always two islands ahead. He was emasculated; the most heartrending torture but she thought of it as love. He never fancied anyone from the female species, his wife was literally the only bean in the githeri. I bet Julie Gichuru would pass right in front of him and he wouldn’t flinch. He loved her more than he loved himself. But she still doubted…………
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