UPON REACHING MOMBASA

I tool the bus to Mombasa on Wednesday night and he met me on Thursday morning
and took me to his home.....suffice to say that I was seriously disappointed and
shocked 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 sense
of self..

The problem for me is that he lives in a half finished house in the poorer side of
Mombasa, called Likoni, bricked and walled and roofed etc, but still no piped water or
electricity and no decorative touches. Not a romantic campsite kind of structure but a
bare walled three bedroom house, the floors of the sitting room just finished but the
other rooms not completed, no kitchen or en suite bathroom yet. His own house is
encased within a closed kind of courtyard complex with three other one bedroom
structures and central bathrooms and toilets (two each) serving the enclosure. I can
imagine that it could be lovely when it is finished.....but then I have a very good
imagination. What tempers my own view is that the other structures in sleepy
impoverished 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 the
divorce six years ago, rather than renting a new home in Nairobi. His self worth was
so 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 his
lack of material possessions, as he was judged in Nairobi. He tells me that he has
other houses in Nairobi and Mombasa that are rented out or beng used by family
members. He tells me that he demolished part of the existing old houses on the land
in Mombasa, rebuilt part and rented it out. The final part he is building for himself and
using all his money as it comes in to build piecemeal. Fair enough maybe........

I also understand, though more from deductions, rather than his own clear
admission, that his strong drive to find meaning for his life, led him to spend most of
his earning in different kinds of organised religoius groups that further impoevrished
him. He started out as a Catholic and he became a missionary for many years in
Tanzania working for a charity with street kids and getting them scholarships through
achievements in sports, mostly football. Then he became a Scientologist because it
exposed him to international networks and gave him a narrative of enhacing his
natural abilities through positive thinking and other such mind over matter
exercises. Then he went to work in Oman and whilst living with a family became
enchanted by Islam (this part I sympathized with) and learned arabic and even
started going to the Mosque. He was in love with a muslim girl and considered
conversions. 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..........

So he decided that because he sees the potential for a life with me as his wife, he
decided that it was important for me to share this experience in his half built house,
with him rather than staying in a hotel.
It is lovely that I should be considered so noble and generous of heart and in many
instances I am and have been very happy to live in villages and break bread with
people I love. But now I realise suddenly that I am not that saintly character that I
believed I am, I am really not that good when faced with the thought of living like this
with a future spouse even in the short-term.
My own poverty is not romantic and I am terrified that I will not find a means of
escape. I cannot find any part of my inner being acquiesing to this standard of life
and certainly when I am not anthesisized by that kind of delusional love that you can
only maintain in your 20s. So.I was not happy by the standards of my
accomodation during this first visit. But kept my peace because he must be very very
brave to make such a move with someone he clearly does not know very well, more
especially with someone who he can see clearly lives a very middle class lifestyle.
Anyway, I was ready to turn round on the spot and to tell him outright that this
relationship cannot work because of the economic disparity between us. I suddenly
felt totally OK about going back to settle into a long term of celibate, solitary living.
End of dreams, full stop!
What stopped me was that, although I am appalled by his frugality and poor living
conditions, I cannot yet find fault with his character or his personality. He is a sober,
sweet, gentleman, kind, thoughtful and extremely loving. I could not bear to humiliate
him and since I can now clearly see why he has remained single all these
years....which upwardly mobile city woman wants to live the village life again?..........I
did not want to add to his long list of what I can only imagine were fairly abrupt,
maybe brutal rejections, like the one I was rehearsing in my mind.
So I drew breath and just sent a horrified text to Mmy sister. She said, well, since the
man has bought his own land and is building we should not disdain him, especially
since we do not even have our own homes. Secondly, since he is well travelled and
educated and exposed in other ways I should also reconsider my view of his
apparent poverty now. Thirdly, she said maybe it's an opportunity to base our
relationship on a strong foundation, where I can be his support now that he so clearly
needs me. Finally (and this is the only thing that actually trickled down from my head
to my heart), that I should just think of it as a challenging camping trip, tell him I have
a work thing that is forcing me to come home early. Which is what I did. But told him
we must come back to Nairobi on Saturday morning, since I have to go to church on
Sunday, you have to book the bus tickets a day in advanceso I was stuck there
on Friday).
He reluctantly agreed but now decided to come with me on a reciprocal visit to
Nairobi for a week to follow-up on business and spend more time together. Well, I
was just happy to know I would be leaving soon and decided to just grit my teeth and
survive two nights in his shack, focus on the fact that he turned out to me a really
passionate and more than decent lover.

AFTER THE ORGASMS

So we made love all day and all night on Thursday and then went to his office in
Mombasa Town on Friday. Here the story is that he joined forces with three friends to
buy a large office complex. The four of them can therefore offer full property
development 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 stores
and at the back the four of them partitioned the area to individual offices. His own
office 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 here
resemble those ramshackle, colonial structures you see in Accra or small towns like
Alexandria or Ishmailia. Hmmmm........
After working on several job applications all day which cheered me up, because I
could again imagine a "clean", urban future elsewhere, sipping Cappucinos, reading
good 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 rushing
to board morning and night and shuffling through the bustling dusty tuk tuks,
motorbikes and overcrowded matatus. Like Accra, going home in the dark, markets lit
by lamplight, selling everything......our poor dark African city lives where slums are
sandwiched 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 a
clean neat home, with as much beauty as I can have, even if I have to live in one
room, 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 midst
of next to nothing.......I could not be charmed. My inner child is fairly appalled and I
have some serious making up to do to be at peace with her again. My saboteur has
set up her own radio channel in my head....broadcasting day and night, on why being
alone forever is totally preferable to managing with this man, living on the edge of
subsistence. I know in my mind I should calculate his collective assets before I write
him 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 of
my self. I am this person supoosedly committed to a life that empowers
disadvantaged communities worldwide. I claim to love the poor and hold passionately
to projects which create wealth with dignity for poor communities worldwide. This is
part of my personal vision, mission value based system of living that I describe to
myself 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 to
God for challenging this idolatos edifice I was beginning to build for myself. Who do I

think I am? I am a child born in village to poor folks saved only by extraordinary
opportunities which their education offered them. They were also just blessed to be
at the right place at the right time. This man that has been introduced into my life
however, was fairly middle class by Kenyan standards, his father was an architect
who 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 the
village 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 look
beyond their material possessions and the basic conditions that define rural life in
Africa.
I think I can love this manbut really not yet. First, I have to secure my income
base 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 is
that he is a Made man? He has consolidated his wealth and exudes that assurance
of 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 which
requires compromise and shared vulnerabilities. What is wrong with me that I do not
shun 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 done
before I can build a life with John or any other man for that matter.