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I did not know how to begin my conversation with Mitchelle. It’s not a common thing for a man to claim that another woman has stolen his wife. It’s also not very common for the “stolen woman” to ask for a right of reply – albeit in confidence. Guys, I was walking in unchartered territory here.
“Why did you leave your son?” That was the first question that came to my mind. As a parent I could not imagine leaving my kid behind without putting up a proper fight should a situation that calls for ‘man to put asunder what God had put together’ arise.
“It’s not that I abandoned him,” she started. Her gaze firmly on my face. Her eyes are a bit teary. Her hands were both placed on the table. Her cup of tea untouched, almost five minutes since the amazing waitress called Grace of Victoria Comfort Inn brought it to our table. We were seated at ‘Tado Lounge’ on the rooftop of the hotel’s new wing.
Mitchelle is definitely one of those complicated city women. She must have gone to those private schools where they teach girls how to cross their legs, hold their necks and what to do with their hands when having difficult conversations – being a lady. No wonder she works at a bank. I have a feeling she is in sales.
I have held a sales position in my company in an acting capacity and I tell you she looks like someone I would hire to work for me if I could afford her. You know they say ‘sales is an emotional activity’ and not a rational one. Most of the times we buy things because we like whoever is selling them and not necessarily because we like what they are selling. I can’t help but imagine the number of men who have opened bank accounts they don’t need, take up loans or mortgages they can’t afford just because Mitchelle was selling.
From up here you can see almost see three-quarters of Kisumu. From where I sat I was facing Obunga – one of Kisumu’s largest informal settlement. To my left was parts of Tom Mboya estate that fade away into USAID estate and farther in the horizon I could see what’s left of the water hyacinth on the lake. This thing seems to be moving away before the multimillion equipment that was bought to deal with it even gets here – this is Kenya. A place where we lose billions of shillings and call it “only.” Also, a place where women steal men’s wives.
Mitchelle’s back was turned towards Obunga. If her estranged husband was a residential estate in Kisumu, he would be Obunga. She also turned her back against the leafy suburbs of Riat Hills where their matrimonial home is. Her glowing face that’s now focused on my direction once in a while drifting further to stare at the Tomb Mboya estate buildings beyond and farther into the direction of Milimani where her current life revolves around.
“Both my children are now with me where I live. It was difficult to leave with both of them together so I left with the one I knew he had no claims over and when the time was right I took the younger one too,” she explained.
“How did things get here?” I asked.
“You see Daniel,” she began explaining. It’s very rare that I get people referring to me with my first name. At times I even forget that I am called Daniel. Nobody calls me that even in the office, but I guess because Mitchelle and I have not crossed paths before It was very proper to be that formal.
“I was a loyal wife to my husband. I had had a life before we met but the moment we decided to get married and raise a family I went all in. I gave up a lot of things for the sake of this relationship, but Dave did not see that as good enough”, she continued.
Mitchelle says that her husband started cheating soon after the birth of their son. There are weekends he claimed he could not come home but would be seen with young college girls in town. She had even on several occasions caught him with other girls when he was pretending to be out of town.
She says Dave would always apologize and swear never to do it again. He would shower her with gifts and pay for trips to Dubai for her and the kids. His apologies would most of the time work – I mean which woman would not want to go shopping in Dubai?
Mitchelle, however, felt that she was being taken for a ride because Dave did not change his ways.
“I already had two children from different men. Where was I going to leave and go with these children?”
Mitchelle says she talked to her friends about it. They asked her to stay put, mostly because Dave was taking care of all their bills. He wasn’t physically abusive either. One of her close friends became much closer during this time, and she would confide in her for everything.
“She had a broken marriage. She had had these experiences, and I benefited a lot from the wisdom that came with her age and experience. She was also very understanding and caring. The sort of person I was free enough to cry in her arms,” she explains.
“One thing led to another and we just naturally found ourselves entangled in a romantic situation. I had kissed girls before – in my campus day. They say ‘women know their way around the bodies of women better’ and here I was sacrificing my pleasure for a guy who treated me like trash when there was someone who could really make me happy in every way I would imagine.”
I ask her if she still thought Dave and she had a future.
“The only future between us is as co-parents. I do not intend to keep our son away from him. As far as our marriage is concerned, it’s a done deal. He should blame himself for it because it’s him who drove me into another woman’s arms.’
When they have to meet, they do not do it where she lives with her kids.
Cover image courtesy of pexels.com.
