Masikonde sat on Moraa’s bed looking down at a sleeping Terian. With a pained look on her face, she turned her head from side to side, snoring softly. Her face was shiny with sweat, for a moment transporting him back to the early days of knowing her. If he did not know she had drunk the night before, he would have worried about a possible fever.

“How many glasses of wine did she consume?” He had earlier asked Moraa with concern, worried that perhaps Terian had alcohol poisoning. He once dated a girl who had drank too much of his expensive whisky and it had cost him more than his whisky through her hospital bills.

Half an hour into his arrival and he woke her up by shaking her. At first, softly, then harder with every shake,u ntil she sat up with a start and yelped.

“Masikonde...” she whispered, face downcast.

****

“Hello, Terian.”

Rubbing her eyes and nose noisily,she asked what time it was. He told her.

“Almost three? How long have I been sleeping?” “Long enough to miss college,” he said flatly. “Sorry...”

He stood up and put his hands in his pockets. “I will wait for you in the sitting room. Freshen up.” Moments later, she emerged, clutching her rucksack at the front, and standing a distance from him.

He stood up and headed to the door. “Let’s go.”

They drove to Kajiado in silence;Terian was nervous, Masikonde was irate with her and with himself for not being irate enough.

As soon as the door to her flat was shut, Masikonde roughly grabbed her, so hard she gasped and put up her hands in defence. The kiss was just as rough. He lifted her roughly and carried her to the bedroom, half-throwing her on the bed.

They made love. Passionate, angry love. Terian cried in pleasure and pain. He was grabbing her too hard but every time she was about to protest, he would relax and thrust, her protests would become moans. Later, as Masikonde lay panting on top of her, she finally allowed herself to cry.

Without acknowledging her tears,he went to the shower. She stayed in bed, pulling the duvet with her fingers upto her mouth. She cried as she looked at the bathroom door. He left the showerand found her still crying. He ignored her and dressed silently.

 “I am going to stay away for a week,” he finally said. He was standing near the door, holding her gaze. “You need to decide what you really want, not what you think everybody else expects of you. You are not a child, but you are behaving like one. If you have something bothering you, you do not play emotional games. Talk about it like the grown up you are.” And he was gone, banging the front door so hard, she jumped. And she started crying again, then fell asleep.

In college, Terian spent her day in a near trance. She feigned a headache to anyone who asked if she was alright. As she listened to the teachers talk and talk about cooking, as she took incomplete notes and listened to other students ask and answer questions about things she did not remember hearing, as she listened to other students joke and laugh, she decided there and then that she would learn, and learn well.

She switched on her phone during lunch break, and immediately Moraa called to check on her.

“How are you, girl?”

“I am okay, I think. I will be fine.” Terian was sitting on a secluded bench, nibbling on a banana as she watched other students interacting with one another, longing to join them but lacking the energy. “Thank you for taking care of me. I don’t know what happened.”

“What are friends for? I am glad you chose to come to mine. Feel free to come over whenever you feel like talking to someone, okay?”

“Sawa.”

****

For the umpteenth time, Sinta looked at her phone for missed calls. There were none, because   she had switched it off. Having it off for so many hours made her nervous, but  it was  the  only way  to stop herself from blubbering her plans to people who would definitely try to dissuade her.  Wahu, for instance, would put a very good argument on why it was a bad, bad idea. It probably was.

She was tired. She was a city driver used to short distances that did not involve stepping on the accelerator too hard and for too long.

Almost seven hours later since making the decision, she drove into Olpaiyan’s compound.

When she first saw a woman surrounded by too many puppies sitting outside the smoky manyatta, she wondered why she had not noticed earlier that Yeyo had lost weight. The woman however looked up – it was not Yeyo.

Her heart missed a bit.

****

She sat for a moment after turning off the engine, as she peered at the stranger, wondering why the stranger was looking so comfortable. Were there relatives of Masikonde she did not know? Sinta opened the car door when the stranger turned towards the kitchen and mouthed something. A few seconds later, Yeyo emerged and squinted at the car, and then covered the distance to the car in quick steps.

“Sinta, entito supa?” Yeyo greeted cautiously, placing her hand on Sinta’s bent head. “Are you alone?” She was peeping inside the car.

“Yeyo, takwenya. I am well. Yes, Iam alone.” Sinta was shifting on her feet, trying to look at the strangerdiscreetly. “You have visitors?”

“Huh?” Then she saw Sinta looking at Kokoi. “Oh, I will tell you about her later. Mapi. Mapi. Come inside. You must be tired from the journey. Rest your feet, my daughter.”

“I brought some foodstuff.” Sinta opened the car boot, removing a couple of shopping bags and carrying them towards the kitchen. When she reached Kokoi, she bent her head. “Takwenya?”

“Entito supa. How are you mydaughter?”

“I am well, thank you.”

There was a nervous silence. Onethat was broken by the arrival of the half-naked Lemaiyan who came straight forSinta and bent his head. Sinta felt another missed heartbeat.

“Hello there? What’s your name?”

“Lemaiyan. What is your name?”

Sinta laughed nervously. “My nameis Sinta. You can call me Enkanashe Yeiyo.” Calling someone older aunty wasalways a safe way to refer to someone you were not familiar with.

Yeyo let Sinta into a manyatta.

“You rest here, my daughter. Ishall prepare a cup of tea then we can talk, eh?”

It took twenty minutes to prepare the tea. In that twenty minutes, Sinta shifted nervously. She ended up drinking more water than she needed because, whenever she stood up, she would end up at the water dispenser. Who was the woman? Who was the child? Could it be? Surely no. What if the mother of the child was also around?

“Is everything well?” Yeyo had taken the sofa opposite Sinta, holding her cup of tea with both hands.

Sinta nodded. “Everything is well.”

“My son?”

“He is well. He does not know I am here, though.”

“Oh...”

“Don’t tell him,” she added quickly. “Not yet. I just made the decision to come this morning.” She placed her cup on the glass stool.

“Yeyo, who are the visitors?”

“I shall tell you who they are but first, let’s talk about what brought you here. I hope there is no trouble.”

Sinta took a deep breath. When she had been preparing her speech, she had not counted on finding strangers living here. And if they were who she suspected they were…

“Where is Olpaiyan?”

“He will not be home until late.”

“Okay. It’s... it’s this issue of second wife,” She finally said and looked at Yeyo wrinkling her nose non-committally, like what Sinta said was what she had expected to hear. “I... I'am okay with it.”

Yeyo pulled on her tea noisily.“Good to know that. Enhe, so what really is the problem?”

“Masikonde may be changing his mind. I don’t want him to change his mind,” She added quickly, like a caveat to show she had nothing to do with it. And she spoke in length. About his sudden change of attitude, and mood. Their conversation last night. “I did not know who else to talk to, so I came here.”

Yeyo nodded, allowing Sinta tofinally see a trace of concern on her face. “I am glad you did.”

“I want to know who she is. I want to do it the traditional way - talk to her and perhaps tell her that I am okay with it.”

They both pulled in sharp breaths, lost in their own calculations.

****

“You are sure?” Sinta nodded. “That is good. Ihave met her. She is a good girl. Beautiful, too. Not your type of beautiful...it is different.”

Sinta cringed internally. A surprise wave of jealousy swept across her as she listened to Yeyo sing her adversary’s praises.

“I do not know why Masikonde would change his mind.

Things were alright a few daysago... but I could ask him.” “Not while I am here.”

“But will he not be worried that you are missing? Surely you are not thinking of driving back today? Sunset will be here soon.”

Sinta shook her head. Today, she was happy to sleep in the manyatta. Her eyelids were already heavy with fatigue, and if this talk had not been important, she would have asked to lie down first.

“I sent him a message. He knows my phone is off, too. I will call him in the morning.” She took another sip of her tea. The aluminium cups always burned her lips, so she ended up waiting for the tea to cool down. “Who are they?”

Yeyo looked towards the door. “The boy is Terian’s son.

Terian is…”

Sinta, eyes downcast, nodded. “Iknow who she is.”

“Kokoi is the adopted grandmother, and they are both staying with us because she is my new co-wife.”

Sinta gasped and jerked, spilling some tea on her jeans. “What?” She placed the cup back on the stool and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Since when?”

And for the next half hour, Yeyo brought Sinta up to date on the developments since Terian came into their lives. Sinta, in shock, laughed most of the time.

****

Terian and her classmates were having a practical lesson in cooking. The teacher was demonstrating how to prepare some stir fry. Terian, the tallest in her class, was

standing behind Nyokabi, who was standing next to Cherop.

“We should go out tonight, ”Nyokabi whispered over her shoulder at Terian. “Out?”

“Yes. Out. Dancing. You do go out, don’t you?”

Terian did not answer, because the teacher was explaining something.

“So, can we go out?” Nyokabi asked again when the teacher stopped talking.

“I don’t know... I am tired,”Terian protested weakly, memories of the previous weekend with Chef making herwince.

“I have never been out dancing! How embarrassing is that?” Cherop whispered, looking every bit embarrassed.

“See! Let’s go out. Please.”

Her two friends having ganged up against her, Terian agreed. She did not want to return to her empty house anyway. A week of being utterly on her own had taught her that she was not one of those people who appreciated their own company.

****

It was way past midnight, but Terian and Moraa were still wide awake. There was a movie showing on the television, both of them looked at it intently, but only because there was more action than dialogue.

They spoke to each other more than they listened to the television. Terian had fully recovered from the effects of the spiking, but she was suffering from effects of a different sort; Sinta effects. She had been upset with Moraa, even accused her of betrayal. She had cried. Moraa had rolled eyes at her over and over, telling her to grow up.

Even with all the assurances about her own beauty, every time she thought of Sinta, she felt inadequate. How was anyone supposed to measure up to Sinta?

“First of all,” Moraa had admonished. “If Masikonde wanted somebody who could measure up to Sinta, he would have looked for a woman who looked and behaved like Sinta. You two could not be more different if you tried.”

“Why does he want another wife?She looks perfect!”

Moraa paused, remembering Sinta’s confession about her inability to have children. She shrugged. “Who knows? Men are weird. All I know is that man loves you, and he loves his wife too. How, you would have to ask him.”

Terian  grunted.

“Why is Sinta being so nice to me though?” That question had bugged her more than any other. “Perhaps this is none of my business, but I am already a fourth wheel in this love triangle, so here goes:  

“Sinta is barren,” Moraa had finally said. “She does not want to lose Masikonde, so she is happy to have a woman who would give him children.”

Moraa’s answer had been satisfactory if a little shocking, but it had brought another set of insecurities for Terian. So, was her use in Masikonde’s life to procreate? Was that it?

“Don’t be silly. Masikonde could have any woman he wanted in this city, I should know. He chose you.”

“You really think he loves me?”

“I don’t think. I know.”

“I have been meaning to ask you, ”Terian said after a long silence. “Did you always wear that ring?”

****

When having a nightmare, the mind subconsciously knows it is trapped in a dream, and makes a conscious effort to snap out of it. On the flipside, when the dream is good, the same mind conspires to leave one hanging and longing for more, by snapping awake before the anticipated happy ending.

Masikonde woke up before a good dream that involved him, Sinta and Terian came to an end. He groaned in frustration, but as soon as he took his first conscious breath, he smiled.

Terian was cooking. He could smell the exotic spices, some of which he was familiar with because Sinta used them. The more Terian’s confidence in the kitchen grew, the more she was determined to prepare elaborate meals for him. He missed her githeri, but he accepted her experiments with grace.

He sat up against the headboard, yawned and stretched again before swinging out of bed, stark naked, and walked to the kitchen. The cooker had all its four burners on, cooking different meals.

“What’s this, a party?”

She turned to him and  smiled, then she   saw  his nakedness and looked away in embarrassment.

He laughed. “You are embarrassed?By my nakedness?

Come on…”

“It’s… it’s…”

“It is what?” he asked, turning her to him. “Lift your hands.” She did. He removed her tee shirt. “Step out of these too…” he instructed, pulling down her shorts. She was giggling.

“Unless it is freezing cold, you must let your body breathe, especially in front of me,” he whispered, kissing her slightly on the neck.

They ate. They made love. Then they left for the construction site.

Terian gasped when they drove in.

“How fast have they worked?” LikeSinta, Terian was going from room, marvelling at almost everything Sinta had marvelled over.

“And this, my queen number two, isyour new home…”

Terian was looking through the window at the flower garden below when Masikonde said that. She turned to look at him so fast, she felt her neck snap.

“What?”

“I said, welcome to your new home…” He was standing against the wall, hands across his chest, one leg acros  sthe other.

“What do you mean?” her voice and body were shaking at the same rate and she grabbed onto the window sill so hard her knuckles cracked.

“This, my Maasai princess, is your new home…”

She started crying. Masikonde walked to her and hugged her, letting her cry uninterrupted. Minutes later, she pushed him away and snorted loudly. She needed to blow her nose.

“Do you have a handkerchief?” Sheasked. He fished one from his pocket and laughed at how loudly she blew her nose. By the time she was done, she was laughing too.

“I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just move in…”

“What will Sinta think?” she asked with a gasp.

“Sinta already knows you are moving in. You have her blessings…in fact, she would like to help you furnish…”

“What?”

He nodded.

She was crying again.

“Thank you…”

“I have an idea on how you can thank me…”

She was not as easy to carry as Sinta, but carry her he did, to another bedroom where he made love to her onthe bare floor.

“I want to go and see Saitoti…”

She said when she finished dressing.

“Okay. When?”

“Today.” He nodded.

****

That night, Saitoti breathed his last in the presence of his motherly nurse. She held his limp hand as the emergency team fought a losing battle to revive him. She could have helped them, but she was fed up of seeing him suffer.

For months, she had been on the frontline of his prayer warriors, perhaps his only prayer warrior, praying for his healing. In the last few days, she had remained on the frontline, but her prayer strategy had changed.

She started praying for his death. As he breathed his last, she sighed deeply with her eyes tightly shut, holding back the tears, refusing to cry. She would cry later, away from her colleagues, but she would cry with relief, not sadness.

She had been a nurse for three decades. In those three decades, she had learned that dying patients needed a friend more than they needed medical help.

She had given her friendship to Saitoti, had become his silent therapist. He had opened up to her. She had let her breasts accidentally rub on his only sensitive body part, the head, just to make him feel alive. She had known the only reason Saitoti had not released his soul to the skies was because his last wish had not happened, one to see his parents one last time.

When Saitoti’s father had visited that afternoon, her heart had skipped several beats, then she had started to mentally prepare herself for the obvious eventuality. When she had seen Terian unsteadily walk out fighting tears, she had gone to Saitoti’s room, and he had smiled. The first happy smile she had seen him give.

“I saw my father. I did not see mymother, but father told me she has forgiven me. They have all forgiven me. Mywife has found someone to take care of her. I can die in peace,” He had said.

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