A while back, I was in a bus from work heading to town. As usual, all the windows were shut. No air! It always surprises me just how much people hate cracking ‘em windows and letting in a little freshness. Well, I took it upon myself to nudge the stuck glasses into submission so that I could get lost into my own world while staring at the blankness of traffic.
It is from the point of the ‘window opening’ that things started sinking. It took a while, but the window slid open alright. Only, I used a little ‘too much force’ and it kind of hit the young lady who was seated in front of me. Next to her was a man who she kept whispering stuff to; so let me rightfully assume they were lovers.
The window hit her. Nothing serious….or so I thought.
She turned to me and told me in Swahili: “Wewe, umenigonga…”
She was frowning! And so angry, I eased back and muttered a sorry.
She frowned even more, turned to her man and said audibly:
“I think she did it deliberately. Had I been alone, she wouldn’t have done it. She is just pushing me because I am with a man…..”
I was confused. First, errrm, that she talked to me in Swahili, then turned to her man and spoke the pretentious English with a fake accent suggested that she thought I probably didn’t speak English.
Please, allow me to be petty!
Then, it isn’t like English is some strange dialect spoken only by a few anthropologists and people in a remote population off the continent. Come on, it isn’t like you had to go through some special schools ad fill several forms for you to know the language.
So, I didn’t get why she would audibly talk about me in English, in a tone that suggested I couldn’t understand a thing.
I have a lot of chills.
I decided to let it pass and keep my mind occupied till they probably found a topic suited for lovers and leave me alone.
She didn’t stop. She went on and on about women and jealousy. It made me uncomfortable; for someone to talk about me like that. I wanted to put a stop to it, but I didn’t know how to do it without creating a storm and getting all passengers freaked out. My ears were on extra alert though.
“ I don’t understand why women cannot be happy for each other. Imagine, you get so jealous mpaka you hit a stranger you have just met in the bus….” She said.
Her man laughed nervously, trying to steal peeps at me. I pretended to be reading a book.
You will pardon me, when I say that I develop extreme disgust towards the lady. I mean, I have my own man, and I wouldn’t get jealous just because some random person in the bus is with hers. They were not even doing anything that would make my stomach warm, or make me go green….so why would I get jealous?
Then she started acting like an expert of Psychology – throwing gems like: “You know it is something people do without even knowing….it’s like an impulse.”
Seriousy, all this psychoanalysis and Freudism because I opened a window and it hit her? Add a man into the mix and aha! I deserve my own couch in a psychologist’s chair, talking ‘bout my jealous rages? C’mon!
When I felt like I had heard enough (Which wasn’t really a lot, except for that one time when she shook her head and tried to steal a look at me through the cracks the chairs provided) I tapped her oh so slightly and asked her:
“Excuse me, do we have a problem?”
“She blew air into her mouth, let out some in exasperation and then said: “Nope…”
Theeeeeen, she grabbed her man’s arm in an ‘I- told- you- so’ manner.
You know, uhm, the: “Bae, seems like this jealous freak will not leave us alone.”
Of course, I wasn’t going to. Had she stopped sooner, I would have let it slide without a word. But she had stretched it, and I wasn’t going to let her go home and tell the false story of the woman in the bus whose green eyed monster is so much on the loose; she hits the lovers she meets riding the bus.
I looked her fiercely in the eye….okay I am being dramatic. I looked at her, and asked her:
“Why would you imagine that I hit you because you have a man? Do you know that I have my own, and I am sorry to say, I wouldn’t even be slightly attracted to the one you have by your side?” I said in the most polite way.
I know. I know. I know.
I shouldn’t have involved the man, and I shouldn’t have mentioned things that I said about both of them as the conversation progressed. But can you blame me? He should have leashed his lady! He should have tamed that Itch in his B! But noooooo! He let her go on and on…..
The lady decided to put up a show. And great! Because my calendar was also on the same side as hers.
She told me:
“Why cant some people let others ride in peace….nini nini….”
I was just on my seat, looking at her yelling and throwing a tantrum, because I am a ghetto chick, and my mama taught me how to fight without shouting. We were taught to throw the lethal stuff without maximizing the volume.
I looked at her man and told him:
“I really feel sorry for you. “
I didn’t wait for his response. That is now such fights are won.
Then I shrugged, wore my earphones and leaned back. The whole us was now straining to see what was going on, and the more the lady shouted, the more I put on a face that indicated I was clueless about what was going on.
Lakini seriously, why do women think that all women are after their men; some of whom you would not even look at twice without feeling nauseated? Why?