Last year, January, Carol came up with an idea that sounded phony and nonsensical. You were to open up a piggy bank, or something similar, and start something she called a “Savings Challenge”. Every week, you were to post some cash, usually in hundreds, and see how much you could save by December. It was a fever that caught on last year and women embraced it thoroughly.
It sounded idiotic and you told Carol as much. She was hurt like hell. She never raised the issue again. In December your car developed a serious mechanical problem that set you back by a few tens of thousands. You went to borrow money from her and she gave me this length lecture about how much she had saved after you dismissed her early in the year. It stung. Even worse, she refused to lend you any money.
So, this year, you’re more ready than ever to partner with her for the savings challenge. When you approached her, telling her that she would be the treasurer and accountant, she dismissed you on the spot. “You are never serious. I can’t trust you. You are a source of so much negative energy.”
How can a wife be so rude? That burned like the first sip of ginger soda. What is the world coming to?
“You can go invest with your boys, mimi na wewe, mambo ya pesa hapana,” she went on. By telling you to go it with the boys, she was mocking you and your boys’ inability to save a single cent or even run a project from start to finish.
She knows it. Her chama on the other end, has done several deals, own several pieces of land and you have never seen a woman so aggressive. The ambition is just too toxic.
Yet, this year, you have some business ideas and would have loved to partner with her. But she is totally opposed to the idea. So you have to do it on your own. But is business even worth it?
Your male friends are equally cynical about even having a chama, terming chamas a female thing, and men should be above it. But they are constantly broke, despite pocketing some abnormal salaries. Other than the piece of land they bought on the outskirts of Nairobi, in their youthful and exciting days, they have barely achieved anything besides changing cars and souping them. But you want to be serious. So who do you partner with?
“Can I join your chama?” You ask her, if skeptically.
“You can, but I doubt if you will fulfill the requirements…”
“Which are?” You ask.
“Starting this year, the down payment is Sh50,000 and we will save Sh10,000 monthly, and will meet in June to decide which business we can invest in…” she explains.
“And where do you get all that money?” You ask, incredulous.
“We save. How much do you drink in a month?” She asks, and stands in a lecture mode.
But you are not in a mood for a lecture. You will figure it out on your own. You can’t start a year with lectures from your wife about your drinking ways. You don’t have to invest with her.
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