Before the Cake

Allow me to say something before I speak. I was born in a little town right on the edge of the south border of Mugirango. Back then there were no ways to tell people everything about your life over the internet like there are now with the facebooks and the like. We had to find inventive ways to do things. Your father, who was just a little boy at the time, once wanted to warn me about your grandfather. Now, let me tell you something about your Socoro.

He was a stern man.

And your father was a cheeky boy. So this day I came into the house and your dad was seated on the couch across from socoro. I could tell, just by looking, that he had done something. Immediately he saw me…. You know how when the one thing you’ve been dreading happening happens and you can’t help but stare? No? Or like, remember in Game of Thrones when the big guy was about to kill the little guy then the bigger guy came? What was his name again?

Yeah, like that.

So your dad gives me that look and I think, shit. Socoro on the other hand looks like he has won the lottery. He turns his head slowly (he was never in a hurry for anyone) and then he asks umetoka wapi? And your dad, this is priceless really, he is mouthing out as eloquently as he can something or the other. I’m trying to figure out what he is saying but also trying not to look at your grandfather in the eye. After all, it won’t help your dad if he figured out that I was trying too collude. So there are three or four seconds of awkward silence and I’m about to blurt something out. Your dad can clearly see that I have not understood what has been said so he gets and dashes out the front door laughing. Mind you, he knows that he will be thoroughly whooped when he comes back home – but he didn’t care.

Those are the genes that you are marrying into. The genes of a man who can always think of a third option. Of men who notice danger and laugh, not because the danger will go away but because you might as well die happy.

But more importantly, those are the genes of a man who will not jeopardise you to save himself. As soon as he was out that door I said shule, shrugged and went to my room. Turns out I was meant to say something else but that would have led to more questions that I would not have been able to answer and I’d have been in trouble too. Your dad saw that and, ran off – attracting attention to himself rather that to the fact that I had tried to collude with him (which was quite the major offence too).

You had told me not to embarrass you at your wedding and I promised you I’d do something better – I embarrassed your dad. I wish you both happiness, love and prosperity wherever you go.

Thank you.

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