Can someone play ‘Huyo Ni Chaguo Lako’ as I wipe my tears? Skip the part ‘alizaliwa kwajili yako’ because clearly, Chege doesn’t deserve me. Or rather, just ignore the song. I’ll be okay.
I’ve not talked since Saturday noon. I don’t have the strength. Chege will be the end of me—literally.
I was psyched for his special gift. I knew he had changed from how he sounded every time he reminded me that it was something worth smiling about.
“This time, you’ll be proud of me,” is what he echoed the whole week.
Come Saturday.
I woke up ready to get my million-dollar gift. I had imagined all sorts of gifts on Friday night. Maybe he was finally done picking me up in lorries or his old pick-up. Maybe he was finally buying me the sneakers I admired. Or maybe it was a surprise dinner in a fancy hotel. I knew it was something special—something that shouted, “You matter, babe.”
I was glowing. I even ironed my soul.
I got into the house expecting to see something big, but there he was, his usual composed self.
“Chege, where’s my gift?” I asked excitedly.
“Walk around. Look for something unusual,” he said, smiling.
The living room? Same.
His bedroom? Same.
The balcony? Same.
The kitchen? Same.
I went back again and asked, “Where’s the gift?”
“Check the kitchen,” he said, grinning. I checked again, but there was nothing new.
I called him excitedly and told him to show me the gift because I couldn’t see anything new.
“Surprise! I washed the dishes,” he said, pointing at the sink.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“I changed. I washed the dishes today. You always complain about them,” he said proudly.
I thought maybe I misheard him.
“Chege, you washed the dishes? So where’s the gift?” I asked again, confused.
“I washed the dishes. I’m the gift. I’m a changed man. You always complain about the dishes, right? I cleaned everything,” he said, smiling as if he’d won the lottery.
“Chege,” I whispered, “you’re the gift?”
“Yes. The gift of love,” he nodded enthusiastically.
Ladies and gentlemen, that’s when I knew love is blind, but disappointment wears glasses.
I felt tears pricking. My heart dropped. This man that I had defended and loved is the gift I’d been waiting for the whole week. I wasn’t angry. I was sad. I was sad for imagining Chege would reason like this. How did he consider himself a gift to announce the whole week? Why, Chege? I had to let my tears flow.
Chege,” I whispered, “why would you call yourself a gift and hype it like a new iPhone release?”
“I changed. You love this new version. I did the dishes! You know I only do dishes when you’re sick or away? It was an act of love.”
I couldn’t control my tears. Why is Chege so unpredictable?
“Shut up. I don’t want to talk to you,” I shouted angrily.
“Hope you get the point. I did the dishes out of love. That shows I’m changed, which means I’m a gift.”
“Do you know I expected something spectacular? Why are you shocking me daily?”
“But I’m a gift…” he kept defending himself. “If I wash, it’s bad. If I don’t, it’s still bad. Next time I’ll clean half the dishes to neutralize the cases,” he whispered.
“Shut up. Don’t talk to me again. I’ll leave this house and never come back,” I walked away before my spirit left my body.
“What do women want? If we change, it’s bad. If we remain the same, it’s bad. I wish I did half the dishes as I imagined earlier. Next time, I’ll listen to my inner voice. It’s better to clean half and neutralize her…” I heard him murmuring.
But then I sat on the bed and wondered—does Chege know I’m a slay queen in my village? Does he know that? Does Chege know my father was born in 1960 but didn’t do what Chege did to my mum or us? My father never lied about such a gift.
You know the worst part? The people I told all took his side and laughed their hearts out.
I’m not sure what I want now, but I think I need a therapist. I need a therapist to guide me on how to confidently dump Chege. This man has been shocking me since 2020, and my heart no longer has shock absorbers. I might collapse anytime.
A lesson I learned this weekend:
1. Never trust Chege when he talks of a special gift.
2. When he tells me of any special gift again, I’ll tag KRA. He should pay taxes for emotional damage.
3. When he talks of a special gift, I’ll head straight to the police. He’ll unlock his special gift in front of DCI.