Why weren’t we born animals? Dogs, cows, bears, toads, snake? Do they have special days? Hay days, are they special? When a cow is de-ticked, is that its best day? Is that its pedicure? Does a dog look at guests thronging a place and say, yes yippee! My special day! That bitch will finally come over? And how do they look at us? Do you think we are slaves of our own lives? Like why we wear clothes?
Valentine’s Day is gone, just like Christmas Day, Boxing Day, New Year’s Day… here we are again people, staring at each other full of questions and sighs. Those who broke up broke up. Those who proposed proposed. Those who had a terrible fight fought. Those who got nothing are still brooding and thinking their partner doesn’t love them enough. Crazy world out there. Now it is on 16th. How do you feel? Bad? Good? Empty? Did you even know that 14th is also World’s Condom day? No. You only think about yourself, flowers, roses, watches, perfumes, dinners. And you don’t even think fondly about a condom. How does a Condom feel? That it shares a day with Valentine’s? Is it too much of a coincidence?
You are now entering an x-rated zone…
Yet condom, just like the pantie has some privileges many people don’t have. With no limbs, it touches all corners. With no eyes it sees things people haven’t seen. Ok, that tip there must be its eye. It enters in territories that many people haven’t seen with their naked eyes but only feel the nether regions. So we can say confidently that a condom is luckier than we humans? Can we say it has won? That it has triumphed? Talking of which, who knows the condom man? He has stuck condoms dramatically all over his body and only his mouth and eyes aren’t covered. He talks too much and keeps picking on people to act as teaching aid. God, next time he asks me to volunteer as a clande to a pastor, I’ll tell him those condoms all over his body suck.
We treat the condom like an outcast. Can you imagine how condoms feel in the dispensers? Sad. Dejected. Shocked. Neglected. Dusty. Useless. And when a kind enough person looks at them, they pull one with such incredible speed and stuff it in the pocket. Horror comes when someone is going to buy it.
Let me tell you a story:
My gal was falling for someone back then, when I was still my mother’s child, my father’s girl and my village’s pride. When the man was to come over for the first time, she convened an urgent meeting with us. Theme? Condoms. If he doesn’t carry them, he might lure her to have unprotected sex. First, I know you are wondering what sort of friends I hang out with. But you know, this life has no time for raised eyebrows. Mimi nimeenda. So we unanimously agreed that she needed to arm herself with a condom in case our good man didn’t carry a packet. And you know if you don’t have them, it is like the devil injects you with this insane, irreversible sexual urge and you begin justifying everything. You even say David did not make any mistake killing a man to steal his wife. Your sanity is utterly compromised. The agenda for the meeting was not about her having a condom for what if, but who was to buy.
I suggested we get from the dispenser but in campus, they were pinned inside hostels near the entrance. Somehow, people were always moving up and down all the time. 1 am. A soul was hovering. 3 am, there was someone. Nobody wanted to be seen taking them, but they disappeared somehow through osmosis I think. Those eyes of kumbe pia wewe unafanyanga hio mambo would kill you if you attempted to touch the dispenser.
We went to Naivas in Eldy. This young Kipsigis guy on a far counter, different from regular ones, shows us many brands, asking which one exactly we wanted.
“Ile ya blue.” I point.
“Ooh hii si poa saaana. It can rupture easily.” He opines
The girl who needed the condom was expressionless and detached herself from the talk. Like you know, my heavy voice always makes me a team leader involuntarily.
“Okay. Na hiyo ya green?”
“Ni same company, but flavors ndio different.” He explains holding them in his hands. My friends are now behind me, quiet, timid with no giggles.
“Gani ni poa basi?” I consult, still embarrassed.
He licks his lips. “Take this.” He offers a shiny pack.
The cover is a woman who looks like a rapist. Aggressive. Fiery. Dangerous. Boss. In charge. Her hair is wild and rough. The girl who needed it looked at me tepidly. “Imagine hio ni poa tu.” I encourage a sister. She shushes me and I pay for it dearly and we vanish.
But come to think of it, why should a girl be ashamed of buying condoms? My sources tell me that males too have a challenge buying it. I once saw a boy trying to buy it and called it “socks”. It took a lifetime for the shopkeeper to understand to the amusement of other comrades. Sometimes it might be embarrassing buying them because someone will know what you are up to. But it is better the embarrassment of buying than scratching your groins and pubis terribly. And itches have no shame and manners. In the middle of the road, this burning sensation will start and you will scratch your privates out of existence. Getting those annoying STIs will humble you to the pharmacy and more embarrassing is buying those ointments, capsules and anti-biotic.
So today, walk into that shop, head high, shoulders straight, ass behind and buy it without blinking, smiling, and giggling and weka condom mpangoni.