I rise very quickly, so fast that before anyone realizes, I am at the door. As I receive the call I smile in the black darkness. I only hear three words although the sentence may be longer.
"Niko kwa mlango wako, uko wapi?” Suzzie asks.
This is the very hour that our flight-fight hormone, Adrenaline comes to life. I cannot afford to hear that she is around, leave alone meeting her. Yet, she is not only in the neighborhood but also within my vicinity and proximity too.
"Niko kazi, Yes I know it is 8.30 PM but niko kazini", I explain in a highly defensive move.
"What work, where, working at this hour?’ she asks.
"Yes, remember I am a public accountant, June 30th deadline is few days down the line, my sweet pie...” I softly give a reason.
"How long will you take to our house, I can wait, we need to talk", she says.
I sense political malice and economic corruption here. I don't remember my hot spacious bedsitter with 24/7 supply of colored stima being “our" house.
"Our house?”, I ask with a deep tone to stress the word Our.
"Yes I am here, actually, I can hang around at the landlord's house, he knows me, so you have all the time to finish your work, I will be waiting" she concludes as her phone makes the sound of indicating that airtime is running low.
Why always me? I can feel a swift small stream of sweat flowing down my spine. I have to think fast.
"My sweet pie, do you see my shirt on the hanging line?” I ask to tell if she is around for real.
"Yes, I already, have it in my arms, the blue one sindio” she answers.
She is around!
My ship is sinking.
I can't let her go to the landlord's house, especially with Wambui around. I need to hear the story.
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"Niko kwa gate", I tell Susan.
"Are you kidding me, you said you are working late?", she says.
"No, sweet pie, I like surprising you, you know I am the king of surprise, one day I will surprise you with the car”, I add.
"The VW POLO", she asks.
"Yes babe, the fine German Machine will be yours, one day", I say.
We get into the house and I prepare a hearty meal for my Suzzie, I love her and I want to make her happy. As we relax on the coach, an idea creeps in my mind.
I am tempted to propose, and I make up my mind to do it. Maybe this is the hour.
But, how do I do it?
My aim has always been to propose on a night like this but not here.
In the Maasai Mara, probably.
Nothing is more romantic than proposing in the wild,
As the wild beasts are crossing to Magufuli's territory,
From Maasai Mara to Serengeti.
My ideal idea has always been to ask her if she will make the mistake of marrying me, when the last wild beast enters Tanzania.
I am romantic. That, I know for sure. Life ni kujichocha. Maybe I don't have to wait for a perfect opportunity. Now is the time.8.57PM.
"Susanna, I have been dreaming of this day”, I say. I don't give her time to respond.
"If you ever doubted me, let tonight be your answer", I say
She sips her Fanta and looks at me. Susan has shining eyes, her teeth glitter like the gold of Transvaal, she speaks like a doll, I just have to listen to her flawless voice.
"What are you up to?” she asks.
I am about to go down to my knee but I hesitate. It is true I had subscribed to these messaging services of love; those ones that teach one how to love. I stopped when I learnt that they never told me which knee touches the ground when a man is proposing to his girl. I have fallen so many times in this. I really want to but my old joints can't bend.
Maybe I am making a mistake. Actually, I don't have a ring. Well, this is not an issue I can propose now and put the ring on her finger on a different date. I am a Public accountant and there is something we call accounts payables.
The only sound that can be heard is that of the wall clock and my heart thundering. The seconds are ticking so fast and my Vena Cava is allowing more blood to the Left auricles. Like you know, the part of the heart that loves is somewhere in the left auricles where there is a dense concentration of arteries and capillaries.
Now is the time.
I feel like doing it.
I will do it.
"Susan, I cherish you, to the moon, through Pluto and back..." I start.
Out of nowhere, I hear a knock on the door.
"Mteule, dad is asking what took you so long, shika hii niendee nyingine", Wambui , the landlord asks as she enters my house without waiting for authorization.
When she sees Susan, she stops midway. Amazingly, she has a plateful of some cuisines. This is the second time I am wishing the ground to swallow me in a span of less than five hours.
"Who is she?” my Susan asks.
"She is Wa... and she is, she is Wambu.., yes she is, she is the?” I stammer.
"And who are you to ask who I am", Wambui asks dropping the plate on the tiled floor.
"Jeez! You dare ask", Suzzie says and holds her hands akimbo.
If I survive this, I will survive forever
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