Tah! I never thought writing something in the lines of politics will be birthed in my writing anytime but I have realized that a few sabotaging characters in my life are stiffly pulling their strings to make sure I do not finish painting my picture of a perfect family – this pokes my rectum with displeasure. The asset or rather expense in my life has a character replica that of the own and against the own. Some time ago I promised to stay away from the 2 dollar girls but not even they come close to this one. After that period, I have kept my distance and waited for the right one to come my way. Kashipu, waiting for the perfect girl in Namibia is replica of waiting for that Joshua Doore advert to play on NBC in 2016. It’s never coming. Not anytime soon.
The one I currently have (I don’t even remember how we met or how she fell in my life) is a professional dream assassin. She reminds me of a group that existed before Harambee and Omake. From what she does, I have strong beliefs that my Kasape has Koevoet descendant. As per reference from the Harambee library, the Koevoet were one of the most successful police counterinsurgency units during the Border War in Southwest Africa. Just like their name, she is a typical crowbar and just because she is from the same pool that claims to be good women, I never know when to declare myself safe. Operation K (Kasape) has produced a series of terror in my life since the day I felt her arrival but it was too late to tell her that I wanted independence. It all started when she successfully became allies with my friends. All of a sudden she became part of my life and I even forgot how to utter the pronoun ‘I’.
It was so bad that I could no longer take a passport photo in town because she would always be in the background. She was a spy and knew everything even before I did it. Just like bubblegum stuck on clothes, that’s how close she always was. I could not cough and she would tell me what I ate for breakfast. She had all her senses on me but the strongest was that of sight. She calculated, estimated and rightly predicted every move. And even when I did wrong I needed not to apologise because she saw it coming. As per my research, the secret of Koevoet’s success is working with and relying on timely information from the local people in the operational area. What was worse it that she knew all my friends and the same was not reciprocal. My SMSes belonged to ‘us’ and the brigadier herself kept a register of my call log with names, duration and content of every call.
Besides the ‘good morning, and ‘please call me boo’ texts that where absolute orders, I had to put up with her side religious texts that are so against anything going up. In this era and she still sends me those Bushiri-born text that read – ‘God says live with your wives in an understanding way, showing honor to the woman as the weaker vessel, since they are heirs with you of the grace of life, so that your prayers may not be hindered. If you believe this, send this text to 10 people and good things will happen.’ Really God? I understand you send people in our lives for a reason but I have failed the journey of finding this one. Is this how you want us to grow strong in your faith? And you never said you were going to send a Koevoet.
Thank God I escaped this torturous relationship. I’m sharing my story because I know there are many men out there in relationships with typical koevoets. Every SMS not replied and call not returned is tantamount to fornication. I know the suffering of facing the journalist questions of WHY, WHERE, WHEN, WHO and HOW. I know your madam thinks like sperm – so many questions thrown to you but only one answer is relevant. How are you supposed to grow if all that is at question is your life and everything you are not doing right? Koevoets are the suckers of life and roadblocks to any sort of happiness. To make it even worse, even when you are no longer with them, they want you to continue praising them for positioning you on the receiving end of their sucking. These are the people who come in your life seeking for recognition but do the opposite to mess you up.
But then again, there are so many Koevoets out there such that there is almost no safe side. So choose wisely comrades and avoid bumping into a Koevoet. It will be a hard one I know. Personally, I’ve had some hairy experiences in my life but the stress of finding a proper madam is one migraine.
Facebook: The Undisciplined Child-MfK