Open letter to my father-in-law

Sir, I know you don’t know me. I don’t know you either because I haven’t even met your daughter. But as Lupita aka Nyar Gem aka daughter of Nyong’o said, our dreams are valid, so we will soon get to know each other.

How it will work out is that I will meet your daughter and convince her that I get dizzy merely by gazing at her elbows. If she buys that, you and I will meet. That is why I am writing this letter.

First Mzee, when I visit, I shall not come dressed in a suit. I don’t wear those stuffy things so don’t expect me to pop in dressed to the nines and sweating like a pig. I definitely shall not wear a tie because my religious sect (Dini ya Jevohah Mwenyewe) frowns upon them. Thus, when I come dressed in a pair of jeans and a multi-coloured shirt, kindly don’t take it to mean that I am disrespectful.

Also, like the next man, my socks are wanting so if my mother-in-law owns a carpet, please tell her to fold it and put it away. I will not scandalise the clan by taking off shoes in your house.

On matters food, no feast please. There is no way my team will work through three kettles of tea with toast bandika and toast siagi after drinking soda. We cannot devour brown ugali, white ugali, steamed rice, pilau, plus chicken, fish, roast meat, boiled meat, fried meat, turkey and quail. Being a bachelor, my feeding regime is rudimentary to say the least and I often consider boiro and a chunk of ugali a feast. So let us keep things simple. A slice of ugali with kuku wet fry (sukuma wiki kando) will be perfect. Tell mum not to bother with fruit salad. Fruits are for sissies and I hail from a long line of skinny warriors.

Now, cultural tenets bar me from speaking. Let us keep it that way. Otherwise you will discover that I am scatterbrain, a secret that I have hidden from your daughter for the two weeks we have courted. It is important for all parties concerned to discover that I stole exams all the way to college when your daughter is six babies down and too dented to dump me.

Now to bride price. Yes, I will give you cows and one goat although I have never owned livestock in my life. I will do that because my clan has been paying good, fat cows for our women since time immemorial. Much as I know that giving you two cows will impoverish me, I will do so because I am not in the habit of breaking tradition. I will also go to the Sacco and borrow Sh10,000 to ‘escort’ the cows. But if you ask me to give you Sh1 million, I will I melt into thin air, your daughter will tiptoe after me and you will get zero. You hear me? Zero.

Please don’t ask me to build a water tank, replace your roof and buy you gumboots, raincoats, or a car because I won’t. It is the duty of your sons to do all that in the same way it is my duty to buy a water tank for my father, replace his roof and buy him gumboots, raincoats and salt. If your kids are hopelessly irresponsible, jipange.

And whatever you do, kindly don’t tell me that you educated your daughter. My father also educated me at such great sacrifice that at one point, his one pair of shoes got bent at the sole and his shirts became threadbare. It was your duty to educate your daughter, just like it will be my duty to educate your granddaughters, you get?

Now that we are clear about that, let us talk about the wedding, or lack thereof. The last wedding in my village was conducted in 1962. Weddings are not the kind of thing we do. To be frank, after I am done paying dowry, I will not have the sort of cash to splash on a wedding anyway. Besides, marriage is a serious matter and I shall not trivialise it by eating cakes like a baby and dancing ndombolo with my wife in front of people. So once I pay the goats and cows, hand over my wife chap chap.

Finally Mzee, remember that the constitution demands that you give your daughter Truphosa a piece of land. I would appreciate if that land is registered in my name because as you very well know, I will be the head of the family and we cannot have two centres of power.