Bottomline: Most male comrades have several prospective ‘baes’ lined up in there contact lists. “One for the cold” he says, “One for the laundry and this one just has a pretty face.” He scrolls through down the list as if he is checking off items on a grocery list.
Is it possible to keep count of all the quotes and sayings about love on the internet? There is a new one sprouting up every day, on how it should be and how it is. From a young age, we are subconsciously taught to romanticize any situation or occurrence that involves the opposite gender. What with all the fairy tales and soap operas, it is only logical that we would look forward to pairing off the very moment we get freedom; at the University of course.
Not all is rosy in love though, the fatal story of 24 year old Ruth Wanjiku Kamande who stabbed her boyfriend Farid Mohammed to death. Giving her ruling on Justice Jessie Lesiit said Ruth Kamande deliberately stabbed him 25 times after a scuffle over old love letters and text messages he was allegedly keeping from a past affair. The Lang’ata beauty queen was sentenced to death so as to serve as an example for the youth: love is not that serious.
He loves me
It would be daft to assume that the story of Ruth and Farid was not picture perfect at first. It’s the beginning of a relationship that usually has every person pining after it. This is when both partners make an effort to convince the other that they are nothing less than perfection, acting humble about it. She would go through any effort less than cutting her arm off to make him realize that she is ‘wife material’ .He would play off various chivalrous acts like he is the perfect gentleman (as if any man wakes up feeling like pulling a chair for a lady). All this is in effort to solidify the illusion of an ideal human, with the hope that when she finally sees your morning face that ratty old pair of sweatpants which barely reach your ankles, she will not have the overpowering urge to run for the hills.
He loves me not
‘It all started with a wink, then we were chatting the night away’ seems like the fitting opening phrase for a romance movie, but it is all too true in these cold lecture rooms. Most male comrades have several prospective ‘baes’ lined up in there contact lists. “One for the cold” he says, “One for the laundry and this one just has a pretty face.” He scrolls through down the list as if he is checking off items on a grocery list. “Of course there is the main chick, and a few side dishes.” aside from the derogatory name for his various ‘mpango wa kandos’, there is nothing that odd about the scenario, men are often pardoned for their philandering ways, no matter how informal. The ‘but she is not my wife’ explanation accounts for every one of his illicit affairs except for the husband privileges he enjoys.
When is enough really enough? How do the sweet nothings and valentine cards turn to gut wrenching horrors and vicious murders? It is nerve wracking to imagine the person beside you might as well be the cause of your death, and though we might not equate our meaningless flings with a crime of passion, it calls for a relook into what we consider charming to that which is borderline obsessive. Like for instance, at what exact moment did ‘I swear I’ll kill myself’ turn from a cause of concern to a declaration of love?