8/10/2019 Upon Leaving Mombasa

1/3

December 26, 2014Jane SigeiGladstone RdNakuru, Kenya

Dear Jane,

I tool the bus to Mombasa on Wednesday night and he met me on Thursday morning and tookme to his home.....suffice to say that I was seriously disappointed and shocked by the way helives.....and had to review my own fairly bourgeois sensibilities and then began to question myvalue systems and previously held sense of self.

The problem for me is that he lives in a half finished house in the poorer side of Mombasa,called Likoni, bricked and walled and roofed etc, but still no piped water or electricity and nodecorative touches. Not a romantic campsite kind of structure but a bare walled three bedroomhouse, the floors of the sitting room just finished but the other rooms not completed, no kitchenor en suite bathroom yet. His own house is encased within a closed kind of courtyard complexwith three other one bedroom structures and central bathrooms and toilets (two each) servingthe enclosure. I can imagine that it could be lovely when it is finished.....but then I have a very

good imagination. What tempers my own view is that the other structures in sleepy impover-ished Mombasa are not much to write home about.

Hmmmmm....................

So his story is that he decided to buy a large plot of land in Mombasa after the divorce sixyears ago, rather than renting a new home in Nairobi. His self worth was so diminished by thebreakdown of his marriage that he just wanted to start again from the bottom up, within acommunity of people who would not judge him by his lack of material possessions, as he was

judged in Nairobi. He tells me that he has other houses in Nairobi and Mombasa that arerented out or being used by family members. He tells me that he demolished part of the exist-ing old houses on the land in Mombasa, rebuilt part and rented it out. The final part he is build-ing for himself and using all his money as it comes in to build piecemeal. Fair enoughmaybe........

I also understand, though more from deductions, rather than his own clear admission, that hisstrong drive to find meaning for his life, led him to spend most of his earning in different kindsof organized religious groups that further impoverished him. He started out as a Catholic andhe became a missionary for many years in Tanzania working for a charity with street kids andgetting them scholarships through achievements in sports, mostly football. Then he became aScientologist because it exposed him to international networks and gave him a narrative ofenhancing his natural abilities through positive thinking and other such mind over matter ex-ercises. Then he went to work in Oman and whilst living with a family became enchanted byIslam (this part I sympathized with) and learned arabic and even started going to theMosque. He was in love with a muslim girl and considered conversions. But in the end hecame back to Nairobi, married a lady who is greek. They could not have children, so he beganto feel useless. They adopted a daughter and eventually she left to return to Greece. Thatswhen he retreated to Mombasa.

Interesting.perhaps admirable in part so far maybe..........

So he decided that because he sees the potential for a life with me as his wife, he decided thatit was important for me to share this experience in his half built house, with him rather thanstaying in a hotel.

It is lovely that I should be considered so noble and generous of heart and in many instances Iam and have been very happy to live in villages and break bread with people I love. But now Irealize suddenly that I am not that saintly character that I believed I am, I am really not thatgood when faced with the thought of living like this with a future spouse even in the short-term.

Koinange Street, Nairobi, Kenya.

JennaSigei

Writer

Nairobi,Kenya

8/10/2019 Upon Leaving Mombasa

2/3

My own poverty is not romantic and I am terrified that I will not find a means of escape. I can-not find any part of my inner being acquiescing to this standard of life and certainly when I amnot anesthetized by that kind of delusional love that you can only maintain in your 20s. So.Iwas not happy by the standards of my accommodation during this first visit. But kept my peacebecause he must be very very brave to make such a move with someone he clearly does notknow very well, more especially with someone who he can see clearly lives a very middle class

lifestyle.

Anyway, I was ready to turn round on the spot and to tell him outright that this relationshipcannot work because of the economic disparity between us. I suddenly felt totally OK aboutgoing back to settle into a long term of celibate, solitary living. End of dreams, full stop!

What stopped me was that, although I am appalled by his frugality and poor living conditions, Icannot yet find fault with his character or his personality. He is a sober, sweet, gentleman, kind,thoughtful and extremely loving. I could not bear to humiliate him and since I can now clearlysee why he has remained single all these years....which upwardly mobile city woman wants tolive the village life again?..........I did not want to add to his long list of what I can only imaginewere fairly abrupt, maybe brutal rejections, like the one I was rehearsing in my mind.

So I drew breath and just sent a horrified text to my sister. She said, well, since the man has

bought his own land and is building we should not disdain him, especially since we do not evenhave our own homes. Secondly, since he is well travelled and educated and exposed in otherways I should also reconsider my view of his apparent poverty now. Thirdly, she said maybeit's an opportunity to base our relationship on a strong foundation, where I can be his supportnow that he so clearly needs me. Finally (and this is the only thing that actually trickled downfrom my head to my heart), that I should just think of it as a challenging camping trip, tell him Ihave a work thing that is forcing me to come home early. Which is what I did. But told him wemust come back to Nairobi on Saturday morning, since I have to go to church on Sunday, youhave to book the bus tickets a day in advanceso I was stuck there on Friday).

He reluctantly agreed but now decided to come with me on a reciprocal visit to Nairobi for aweek to follow-up on business and spend more time together. Well, I was just happy to know Iwould be leaving soon and decided to just grit my teeth and survive two nights in his shack,focus on the fact that he turned out to me a really passionate and more than decent lover.

AFTER THE ORGASMS

So we made love all day and all night on Thursday and then went to his office in MombasaTown on Friday. Here the story is that he joined forces with three friends to buy a large officecomplex. The four of them can therefore offer full property development services - he is anarchitectural engineer, one guy does the drawing, the other two do the legal side and otherservices.

So then they partitioned the block out - the front is rented to 4 small clothes stores and at theback the four of them partitioned the area to individual offices. His own office is in an attic likearea at the top, which he has not yet finished partitioning.

The location of the office is good, right in the centre of town. All the structures here resemble

those ramshackle, colonial structures you see in Accra or small towns like Alexandria or Is-mailia. Hmmmm........

After working on several job applications all day which cheered me up, because I could againimagine a "clean", urban future elsewhere, sipping Cappuccinos, reading good books, hangingout in shiny malls........my shallow false self was fairly satisfied.

Back to reality....we went back home to his shack on the other side of the river. Strangelythough, I totally loved the short ferry ride with the masses of bodies rushing to board morning

Page 2

a: Work Street Work City, Work State Work ZIP e: Work Email

8/10/2019 Upon Leaving Mombasa

3/3

and night and shuffling through the bustling dusty tuk tuks, motorbikes and overcrowded mata-tus. Like Accra, going home in the dark, markets lit by lamplight, selling everything......our poordark African city lives where slums are sandwiched in between upscale apartments. I did notlong to be insulated in my air conditioned car etc...this part I loved, but realized that the nonnegotiable for me is a clean neat home, with as much beauty as I can have, even if I have tolive in one room, it has to be fairly decent. I can sacrifice much else for just that.

So....despite all the lovely orgasms and the gracious beauty of the man in the midst of next tonothing.......I could not be charmed. My inner child is fairly appalled and I have some seriousmaking up to do to be at peace with her again. My saboteur has set up her own radio channelin my head....broadcasting day and night, on why being alone forever is totally preferable tomanaging with this man, living on the edge of subsistence. I know in my mind I should calcu-late his collective assets before I write him off as poor, but the over-riding take home image forme is that he is prepared to live like a slum dweller, not acceptable to me even for a day.

CHANGING INTERIORS

All this has triggered a long stream of inner reflections which challenge my sense of my self. I

am this person supposedly committed to a life that empowers disadvantaged communitiesworldwide. I claim to love the poor and hold passionately to projects which create wealth withdignity for poor communities worldwide. This is part of my personal vision, mission value basedsystem of living that I describe to myself all the time. Just last week I told my friends about howpleased I was with myself, for being so good so stable, so Zenlike water. Well, I am sograteful to God for challenging this idolators edifice I was beginning to build for myself. Who doI think I am? I am a child born in village to poor folks saved only by extraordinary opportuni-ties which their education offered them. They were also just blessed to be at the right place atthe right time. This man that has been introduced into my life however, was fairly middle classby Kenyan standards, his father was an architect who worked for a large international com-pany all his life. In many ways I am really pleased that he can live like this because now I knowthat I can take him to the village in Nigeria to visit some of my own relatives, those who still livein mud shacks, people I love and respect deeply, but who can only be seen if you are able tolook beyond their material possessions and the basic conditions that define rural life in Africa.

I think I can love this manbut really not yet. First, I have to secure my income base and besure that I can maintain the life I have built for myself and my children, without his help. Now Iwonder whether part of the enduring attraction with Mutua is that he is a Made man? He hasconsolidated his wealth and exudes that assurance of a man of financial worth. And yet that iswhat repels me too, because he thinks of everything in terms his power to possess it and can-not build a relationship which requires compromise and shared vulnerabilities. What is wrongwith me that I do not shun and disdain a man who is closely associated with demonic and darkforces? Have I been ensnared completely by the love of money and the Pride of Life?

I dont know what it isbut clearly there is a lot of interior work still to be done before I canbuild a life with John or any other man for that matter.

Sincerely yours,

Jenna XXX

Page 3

a: Work Street Work City, Work State Work ZIP e: Work Email