Objection your honor!

“No! The law is never ‘very clear’ sweetheart. Otherwise lawyers will be jobless” I wanted to interject. But I held my tongue. No need to give her a taste of ‘objection your honour’ before she has gone through “civil procedures” or “jurisprudence”; the units I passed but can’t tell how. I just lifted my eyes from the Forbes magazine I was reading, looked at her as she continued doing her mock presentation before an imaginary courthouse audience in the mirror and smiled. She had her mother’s assertiveness, something that will prove beneficial in the legal field.
Riri had just been admitted to a law programme in one of the most prestigious universities. As a matter of fact, she had three acceptance letters, two of which were on full tuition scholarship. We chose the one nearest to home so that she couldn’t wander so far away from daddy.
They grow up so fast. Just the other day there were toddler cries within these walls and before long, an occasional moody adolescent that would throw tantrums. I vividly remember her first period. How awkward it was that I had to ‘hire’ the mama mboga down the street to come help me explain to her that its not ebola. Girls! Handling them, no matter the age should be considered in a job interview, as a person who has managed to singlehandedly bring up one is very much capable of working under high stress environment. Unlike the boys, they are physically fragile so you just can’t give them a beating as you would your son whenever they err. Yea, I yelled a couple of times, grounded her twice or thrice but never laid a finger on her in the form of punishment. However, these would be followed by hours or days of sulking that I had to bribe her with ice cream for a smile.
She seemed excited. Had plans about the moots she’ll participate, the law firm she will do her pupilage (her father’s of course…where she will be a partner as soon as possible), what she would specialize in and even the year she will finish her Phd and if possible be a senior counsel or a chief justice. I just laughed inwardly. I had long learnt this was better than trying to extinguish that blaze.
I wish she could know finishing your undergrad is at the mercy of student leaders who can call strike anytime, the senate who might repeal some acts in the student’s handbook that may adversely affect their school calendar or the ministry that is not so keen in higher learning. She ought to know we are in a country where to be a senior council, the head of state would most probably look at her age, gender and political alignment rather than her contributions to the legal field. Then there is the Kenya school of law where passing your exam is at the mercy of the person marking your scripts. The place where there’s no definite answer to a question as all can be answered by “IT DEPENDS…..”
The telephone rung jostling the both of us. It was “the one that got away”. Surprisingly, we are good friends and a godmother to Riri. I forgave her for crushing my then fragile heart and even attended her wedding. However, her parents never hide the fact they would have preferred me being their in-law. I always feel she’s the one that influenced her choice of career, not me. “My learned fool…” Riri shouted into the mouthpiece. (If you’re oblivious, lawyers greet each other as “my learned friend…”. I went to prepare dinner to let them have some private girltalk.



“No one is immune to heartbreaks bro!” she told me that when I got dumped a few months ago. Immediately, that feeling of being a failure vanishago. I owe you an akoho of your choosing in your next heartbreak (which I pray it doesn’t happen)


I have a younger cousin that frequently calls to ask for advice on matters of the heart. I don’t know when I graduated from Dr Cupid school of relationship psychology and counselling but I can confidently say that I am good at it, if the feedback reports he gives me are anything to go by. That’s probably why he comes back for more. Anyway, someone (I also don’t know his/her name) said that the best relationship advice is from single brats like son of man. Even in my church, the celibate priest gives marriage advice to spouses. That aside, due to public demand, I decided to publish my lecture notes. It is a limited edition go to manual for the green heads. Those who want advanced level lessons can register for it at a little fee. That aside, here is the “shit”

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If you are the type of guy that announces to the squad every encounter you have had, you are still a baby that runs to the mother to snitch on Brayo from next door for calling you a dog. If you smash, she has given you something so special yet private. Don’t go around insulting her, telling others about that intimate session.


It’s one thing to visit the loo for a short call and not wash your hands and another walking around with a dirty boxer, with the latter being sacrilege. Don’t leave the house with remains of last night’s meal in your teeth. If you constantly have bad breath, chew some Orbit. Ladies will definitely appreciate it if you wore some cologne to tackle your bad body odor. Don’t be a clean freak though that you walk with a sanitizer in your pocket to disinfect your hands after greeting people. You will be losing your roots.


After the unfortunate event of a breakup, don’t be the bastard that hold grudges for eternity. Woe unto you if you air her dirty laundry for the whole universe to see for Abraham, Isaac and Jacob will curse your lineage. To those who post statuses alluding to the “happier now than when we were together” persona, you are only confirming to us that you still got feelings. According to Freud, “the instinct of love toward an object demands a mastery to obtain it, and if a person feels they can’t control the object, or feel threatened by it, they act negatively toward it. Like an eighth-grade boy punching a girl.” only that you don’t know how to express them or can’t.


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the internet never forgets

Ok, I am guilty of surviving on my neighbour’s WIFI hence minimal if not zero budget on a data plan. But that doesn’t mean when I go to the WhatsApp statuses or Facebook all I want to see is your lovey dovey pictures and quotes. I would really appreciate if you kept it private (not secret, I hope you get the difference), only occasionally marking your territories e.g on Valentine’s Day and on her birthday. I also don’t expect her in your profile picture throughout. Halafu, the man that posts everything they do ‘AKO NA UMAMA’ and the chic ‘AWACHE UTOTO’. Please keep in mind that the internet never forgets. Your in-laws and job interviewers may access some of them.


You are your own definition of a man. F**k societal norms and expectations. You want to dress like Young Thug, the degenerate artist from Wakanda just because everyone is doing so… remember you are in Africa where voodoo is real. A person will look at your bare chest and pap, your stomach swells. Listen to your guardians, friends etc but also have a reasoning of your own. Most people will only tell you to do what will benefit them not what will make you happy. They hate her, ok, but since when did they become shareholders in your love life?


Remember that you knew your buddies long before she came into your life. It’s to them that you will definitely run after a breakup, the ones you call when you become a guest of the state or the bill at Altona café (where you took her for a date) is beyond your wallet’s upper limit. Bros before whores they say, but remember she is not the whore. She’s your girl. Just try to strike a balance.


To the pathological hyena, go dribble your d**k elsewhere. Her relatives and friends are a NO GO ZONE. Consider them a heavily guarded military installation where any intruder is shot to be killed. If you play here and she finds out, she’ll not only lose her boyfriend but also faith in those close to her.


Be the man. Don’t make her plan and do everything. Initiate a conversation, make the phone calls, buy her ice-cream, pull the chair for her etc. Make her feel special, and she will be your number 1 fan in everything you do.


We all have a past. Don’t peel the scabs that conceal her wounds even when the argument is heated. It probably took years for the pain or shame to fade but with just one word you can bring it all back in a fraction of a second. Try to walk out till both of you calm down


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Know her calendar. I repeat, know her calendar and thank me later. Forget Valentine’s Day and she won’t look you in the eye, forget her birthday and LO! 3 months dry spell for boychild.