upon reaching mombasa

8/10/2019 Upon Reaching Mombasa

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UPON REACHING MOMBASA

I tool the bus to Mombasa on Wednesday night and he met me on Thursday morningand took me to his home.....suffice to say that I was seriously disappointed andshocked by the way he lives.....and had to review my own fairly bourgeoius

sensibilities and then began to question my value systems and previously held senseof self..

The problem for me is that he lives in a half finished house in the poorer side ofMombasa, called Likoni, bricked and walled and roofed etc, but still no piped water orelectricity and no decorative touches. Not a romantic campsite kind of structure but abare walled three bedroom house, the floors of the sitting room just finished but theother rooms not completed, no kitchen or en suite bathroom yet. His own house isencased within a closed kind of courtyard complex with three other one bedroomstructures and central bathrooms and toilets (two each) serving the enclosure. I canimagine that it could be lovely when it is finished.....but then I have a very goodimagination. What tempers my own view is that the other structures in sleepyimpoverished 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 thedivorce six years ago, rather than renting a new home in Nairobi. His self worth wasso diminished by the breakdown of his marriage that he just wanted to start again

from the bottom up, within a community of people who would not judge him by hislack of material possessions, as he was judged in Nairobi. He tells me that he hasother houses in Nairobi and Mombasa that are rented out or beng used by familymembers. He tells me that he demolished part of the existing old houses on the landin Mombasa, rebuilt part and rented it out. The final part he is building for himself andusing all his money as it comes in to build piecemeal. Fair enough maybe........

I also understand, though more from deductions, rather than his own clearadmission, that his strong drive to find meaning for his life, led him to spend most ofhis earning in different kinds of organised religoius groups that further impoevrishedhim. He started out as a Catholic and he became a missionary for many years inTanzania working for a charity with street kids and getting them scholarships throughachievements in sports, mostly football. Then he became a Scientologist because itexposed him to international networks and gave him a narrative of enhacing hisnatural abilities through positive thinking and other such mind over matterexercises. Then he went to work in Oman and whilst living with a family becameenchanted by Islam (this part I sympathized with) and learned arabic and evenstarted going to the Mosque. He was in love with a muslim girl and consideredconversions. But in the end he came back to Nairobi, married a lady who is greek.They could not have children, so he began to feel useless. They adopted a daughter

and eventually she left to return to Greece. Thats when he retreated to Mombasa.

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


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AFTER THE ORGASMS

So we made love all day and all night on Thursday and then went to his office inMombasa Town on Friday. Here the story is that he joined forces with three friends tobuy a large office complex. The four of them can therefore offer full propertydevelopment services - he is an architectural engineer, one guy does the drawing,the other two do the legal side and other services.

So then they partitioned the block out - the front is rented to 4 small clothes storesand at the back the four of them partitioned the area to individual offices. His ownoffice is in an attic like area 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 hereresemble those ramshackle, colonial structures you see in Accra or small towns likeAlexandria or Ishmailia. Hmmmm........

After working on several job applications all day which cheered me up, because Icould again imagine a "clean", urban future elsewhere, sipping Cappucinos, readinggood books, hanging out 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.Strangely though, I totally loved the short ferry ride with the masses of bodies rushingto board morning and night and shuffling through the bustling dusty tuk tuks,motorbikes and overcrowded matatus. Like Accra, going home in the dark, markets litby lamplight, selling everything......our poor dark African city lives where slums aresandwiched in beween upscale apartments. I did not long to be insulated in my air

conditioned car etc...this part I loved, but realised that the non negotiable for me is aclean neat home, with as much beauty as I can have, even if I have to live in oneroom, 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 midstof next to nothing.......I could not be charmed. My inner child is fairly appalled and Ihave some serious making up to do to be at peace with her again. My saboteur hasset up her own radio channel in my head....broadcasting day and night, on why beingalone forever is totally preferable to managing with this man, living on the edge ofsubsistence. I know in my mind I should calculate his collective assets before I writehim off as poor, but the over-riding take home image for me 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 ofmy self. I am this person supoosedly committed to a life that empowersdisadvantaged communities worldwide. I claim to love the poor and hold passionatelyto projects which create wealth with dignity for poor communities worldwide. This ispart of my personal vision, mission value based system of living that I describe tomyself all the time. Just last week I told my friends about how pleased I was with

myself, for being so good so stable, so Zenlike water. Well, I am so grateful toGod for challenging this idolatos edifice I was beginning to build for myself. Who do I


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think I am? I am a child born in village to poor folks saved only by extraordinaryopportunities which their education offered them. They were also just blessed to beat the right place at the right time. This man that has been introduced into my lifehowever, was fairly middle class by Kenyan standards, his father was an architectwho worked for a large inetrnational company all his life. In many ways I am really

pleased that he can live like this because now I know that I can take him to thevillage in Nigeria to visit some of my own relatives, those who still live in mud shacks,people I love and respect deeply, but who can only be seen if you are able to lookbeyond their material possessions and the basic conditions that define rural life inAfrica.

I think I can love this manbut really not yet. First, I have to secure my incomebase and be sure that I can maintain the life I have built for myself and my children,without his help. Now I wonder whether part of the enduring attraction with Mutua isthat he is a Made man? He has consolidated his wealth and exudes that assuranceof a man of financial worth. And yet that is what repels me too, because he thinks of

everything in terms his power to possess it and cannot build a relationship whichrequires compromise and shared vulnerabilities. What is wrong with me that I do notshun and disdain a man who is closely associated with demonic and dark forces?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 donebefore I can build a life with John or any other man for that matter.

upon reaching mombasa

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