The Dynamism of My ‘Relationship Status’

It started as, “Single” at a time
when I was slim, handsome and tall. 
“Mrefu”, or “Msomali”, was what
my pupil colleagues called me
in Fort Hall Primary School back then.

That was before I graduated
to be nicknamed “Skeleton”
by my Form One class teacher
in Murang’a High School,
Father Gerald.

After College, my mind began imagining
that it was macho to put on
some few more pounds of flesh, 
and to develop some six-pack
around the chest.

The journey to fulfill my minds desire 
resulted in an eating and drinking spree;
of all the wrong things. 
The outcome was quickly evident
because I deposited fat in 
places that were distant to
the previously intended six-pack.

Buttoning up the shirt
started becoming tricky,
and a nightmare. 
My previous mosquito figure
became so distorted that
seeing supporting documents
below the waist line
became a tall order.

It is at this stage that I realized
that my relationship status
had changed to “Married”.
I had gotten a partner to cohabit with.

What was surprising was that
everyone else, except me,
knew that I was married
long before I did. 
It was also evident
to everyone else, except me, 
that my partner had continued
increasing in size
and that our relationship
seemed just right;
to their envy.

And so my partner and I 
quickly sought Mr. Mark Zuckerberg, 
and changed the relationship status
to, “It’s Complicated”.
Our relationship was turning
to be a love-hate affair;
even going to the gym
was not helping.

But this did not last very long. 
For it is at this stage that
we decided to give up
seeking to recover
the long-lost mosquito shape and size, 
and decided to
‘Kupambana na hali yetu’. 

We decided to give love one more chance, 
this time for real. 
We decided to accept
what we could not change. 
The relationship grew
from strength to strength
and became stress-free. 
And, surprisingly,
complaints from either party
became non-existent.

So today, our relationship status
has reverted back to, “Married”;
We have devised methods to make it work;
such as embracing friends to
help us to cope with our situation. 
Friends like our hands and legs
who have come to our aid
to provide a stool or a stepping stone 
so that shoes can be raised
every time laces have to be tied. 
Or friends such as the mirror, 
which has made it possible 
to inspect development projects
below the belt.

But although love in the relationship
has blossomed so, 
we still have
our arguments and disagreements,
just like all marriages have, 
especially when we are required
to perform small tasks like bending
to pick items from the floor.

But that notwithstanding,
we are now joined at the hip, 
and no man can put asunder 
what God joined together.

Nothing can separate us;
my pot belly, a.k.a katambi, and I.

This must be the “Love” that
Kwaw Ansah described in his film
as having been, “Brewed In The African Pot”;
and, my mind suspects that
even death will not make us, 
my pot belly and I, part.