Once upon a time, many years ago, Mexican soap operas burst onto the Kenyan TV scene and quite a number of people were hooked. There were several other soaps running at the time, mainly American, but there was just something about these Spanish soaps that gripped us from the word go.
Yes, the acting was atrocious, the sub-titles were distracting and the plots were painfully predictable, but we remained glued to the point where evening activities in my mother’s house were structured to ensure that those 30 or so minutes (which included the sponsors’ adverts that usually appeared just as we were about to fall off the sofa from sheer suspense) were free so we could feast on the fictitious lives of the various characters.
If my memory is correct, there were titles like No One But You, The Rich Also Cry and Wild Rose. One day my mother hosted a birthday party that began in the afternoon and went on into the night. We were all having a good time but as evening approached, one of the guests, a neighbour, started to get restless. When we asked her what the problem was she disclosed that she badly wanted to go home, which was a few gates away, to watch the very last episode of one of those soaps. She just had to find out first-hand how it all ended. Nothing we said could dissuade her. When she returned to the party later, she was visibly happier! If there were loyalty awards being given, I have no doubt she would have landed one for herself.
Scripted reality shows
A bit more recently, reality shows made their grand entrance and our attention was divided between fiction and pseudo-fact. I sampled a few, including Keeping Up with the Kardashians and Jerseylicious (which I watched more for the interesting accents than anything else) because I thought they were all about giving insight into how celebs do real life. But I quickly outgrew them as it became apparent that they were actually acting what was supposed to be their real lives! Who does that?
Lately, a new wave has taken over my home. It all started with some intriguing comments my niece would post on Facebook about a locally produced soap that has actually been around for a while but which I had ignored and eventually forgotten about after the first few episodes. After interacting with my niece to find out more, I decided to tune in – and now it seems I cannot tune out, never mind that the acting drives me crazy with its characteristic minute-long silences as the characters stare intensely at each other after one of them has said something not even that profound.
Soon, I had roped in our older girl and we started timing our evening chores around soap time. Then our youngest joined in and we started enjoying our mandatory but totally unnecessary running commentary: “Really??? How now… kwani she hasn’t realised that he’s still in love with her? Oh, please… that is so obvious!” Then, just when one character is about to get caught doing something they shouldn’t, and we’re holding our breaths and hanging onto our seats, the episode ends and we’re left hanging! Which, of course, is why we will tune in again the next day, and the next…
But it wasn’t until the hubby got interested that I realised the true power of soap operas. After watching a few episodes, he started asking about the different characters and the roles they played. Now as long as he’s home, he will happily watch the unfolding drama with his girls.
Although it was pretty easy to catch up with this soap, there are still some gaps that we have been struggling to fill. So much so that we’re seriously considering pooling our resources to pay for a Showmax subscription and watch it from the beginning. The only thing holding me back is that the subscription won’t allow us to go beyond what is already running (at snail’s pace if you ask me) on TV.
By the way, did you know that soap operas were so named in the 1930s because they were originally sponsored in the US by soap manufacturers?
