Man Enough

Or is it Just Man?

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Or is it Just Man?

It’s Friday late night probably. The real setting of this scenario is in a crowded poorly lit posterogene/hesterogene filled club on a famous a street that shouts twenty-four years in town. No, I have remembered. Its way past midnight, please go back and correct up there it is Saturday morning. Now that’s precise. As fate has it, this happens to be the favorite joint this side of town for the Chaps who attest to the same financial religion as us.

Its late night because everyone says so when they should actually say its early morning. Seated a stretch across is a man. Of course there are other men me included just in case you are doubting but this man is of key interest. Will confess that I had been watching him for a while. It’s however not what brought me to the damn place rather it sneaked slipping top of the hideous list anyway. He sat pitched on a stool in solace. He gulped his drink from the bottle not from a glass like most of us. It got me thinking, they should have supplied her with some drinking straws like the coke guys. On and on he glanced at his wrist watch and every time it changed his facial expression to something I will only pronounce as bad. It began to appear as though his watch and facial expressions were co-relational.

Perhaps. Just perhaps he is not happy at how time flies nowadays (all Nairobians say that and it remnisfys the days people were told to pass with flying colors) Forties is what I will write under age for him. You see perhaps its justified. What else would you expect from forty year olds when all they lie is life begins at forty. “How do you just grow out of this fun? How?” Perhaps he is married unlike most of us engulfing the corner-most table, just perhaps. If he is, it appears he missed home. Wait the club guys had sloganed it “Home away from home” Let’s play justice and dismiss missing home for now. What is it that would really make him miss home like hell? Perhaps he has a family and in this case read a stubborn naughty first born boy and a tantrum filled girl with the missus of course. They mean the world to him. He misses them. He wants to be home around them not patched on a tall stool sipping continually from the head of the bottle. This could be well, correlational only if he glowed his face and put up some brave smile at the realization that he is ditching the club to meet them. It’s almost 4 o’clock for clarity sake. Who concocts their faces at such possibilities?

Look we are left with one possibility only one. A perhaps, Just a possibility. To cut the long story short, yes this guy has seen four decades and there is no doubt time does fly. Whenever you doubt, ask him. He is married and has a family he loves (hypothetical; family then love) to which case home is far better than this joint. Our man however changes his facials from bad to worse to worst with every glare at the wrist watch. The only possibility could be this; he is not amused that he has stayed out this long. It’s already morning and the missus is been waiting all night long. Do you know what that means? Do you?

In a nutshell, man enough or just man is about Man. Did I say man is complex? Being a man is something more complex. It’s a puzzle. No, a crossword puzzle. Men at the center stage are controlled by love, power and resources (read money) It cuts across the male species with power patching at the top of the list. Take the Lion Kingdom for instance and the male endeavor to kill younger male cubs for the kingdom posterity. Who wants competition anyway? See what it did to the famous Mohawk! Would you want such fate to befall you? Not unless you are not a man. You are a man? Ok, then not man enough.

Men are just men rather man is just man. Everything they do and or say is man. They shout out loud for being men and some men enough.

It’s funny but men like to be in control whoever small or gigantic it might be. They love control whoever small or gigantic it might be. They love control. It’s what perhaps inspires some weak guys to purchase gun licenses to smash those toys in your face when you stare at their girlfriends longer than they think it’s necessary’ What’s necessary? The gun, the girlfriend or the man?

On a good evening (good here has monetary connotation), we meet, drown down several crates a whole lot of us part ways and greet like niggas. We had home to meet troubles. Troubles that will not show a damn on the face. Aren’t we men and men are well, tough! We don’t do panic calls to check if niggas hit home or about the ‘troubles’ that were brewing. That’s girlish, we think. It’s not man enough. We know guys made it home when we meet in a weeks’ time for a reconnection and more justice to the bottle. If by bad lack you are compelled to do so. I say bad lack because they will joke “Dream about me” or “am missing you already” then hang up immediately like those guys who always starve of airtime. Someone understands this.

While there we talk in loud tones. We discuss business in moderation. Politics in length. Football and girlfriends over and over like real experts. Even where the latter is non-existent, we lie and pretend that they are there. In fact as we are holed up here, they are at our crib watching “the real house wives of Do-buy. Imagery works here, we dress them and characterize them. Otherwise it won’t be man enough. Yes we date and show up with girls who “chat” (read Facebook) the opportunity away as we struggle to find some common topic. So we go “do you know Omosh?” No. Yes. You don’t know him then you know him. Otherwise we read you are not interested or rather that whatsapp sweet nothing chat is more interesting than well, our presence. Ok, chat on girls. Chat with chaps who will never man up to show up for a date like me (we don’t say that it remains in our head. Sorry this conversation died a premature death at that point when she knew Omosh then she dint. Is Omosh even relevant, men am asking? Why should they even know Omosh? Is he man enough? You are!)

Sometimes we are holed up in a third tier café on a dusty people jammed street downtown (the word sometimes here has economic connotation as well) We seep stuff as boring as tea or coffee depending on what you grew up pruning but some think its dictated by political affiliation which to some degree is true because politics is anchored on ethnicity (they lie its grassroots Agenda. That for another day) We are men enough, we don’t complain but we agree in unison that the economic times are hard and the month itself is negotiating a sharp corner and that’s how we found ourselves here to start with. Things will work out, we conclude like we are the ones who keep destiny keys. “Man must Live!” wish you could see our faces when we say that! No the point is things will man up especially when this government mans up.

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