The Rogue man!

 

Rogue is definitely the right word to use here. First, because this story should have been written six months ago. Today is right to write¹ nevertheless, the "rogueness'"  (You know what? I can be sorry to English later) continued. I think I am just rogue. Absolutely abnormal in my own terms.

Today, we got back from the church as usual. My man started the disturbance spree right from church. He didn't wanna sleep, murmurs, screams, squishes, joyful and sad sounds. That's B for you when he wants. He slept for a bit but woke up once we got to the house.

My week was long. I traveled to Nairobi on Wednesday and didn't sleep or rest. Went for an event on Thursday and traveled back that same evening. I got to Mtwapa on Friday, rested for a few hours, and went to Kilifi. Merime (www.merimespace.co.ke) needed me. It's been a week! I am still tired by the way and all I wanted after church was to sleep. It's not that obvious or easy these days. The Man B is around. Before he showed up, we would sleep the entire afternoon.
Now, I tried to sleep but a few minutes later, my man was crying. I love that man. I went to check and her mother had left him to go and ease herself. B would make you think he's abandoned. I took the space and we started fighting over a kipepeo (I have no idea what it is in English. Shall I call it a hand fan?)

I figured Eve was tired too and needed to rest so I decided we were not staying on that bed. We need to go out. Usually, my hands would do all the job but I remembered my mother's lessons raising my nephews. My back had missed it and B is probably not ready but my side can do this job. Mongoni, gweke! (That's Greek for " I threw B to my back) I couldn't remember much though. I had to wake Eve to help me tie that note. Off we went for a walk. B on my back (side, under my armpit for understanding, and I am clean, don't start me😛)

It was better than the normal carrying him in my hands. The problem was people's eyes. It's not a usual thing here for a man to carry his own son the way I did. It is womanish. It is ladysh. It is feminine. Imagine, I had a little magic today. It caused people to roll their eyes, giggle, and laugh. Some would look at me openly and start laughing by the way. And just to make it clear, I didn't care, I don't care. They should know how fulfilling it is, to have and carry this man.

Let's get to the real story. This is gonna be a long one. Today reminded me of six months ago when this very man was due. Ours was a long labor. Consistent contractions started on a Thursday
We didn't sleep so well, Eve kept turning and tossing. Imagine a pregnant turning and tossing. On Friday, the intensity increased and I started feeling it for her. My wife is in pain, pain to bring our guy into the world and I can't do anything about it. It was humbling. These are those times I wish I could take her pain. I could not. It's not possible.
On Saturday morning, it was too much so we decided to get ourselves to the hospital. Glory to God! We were just in time, she had dilated five centimeters already.

I went home to pick up the stuff we needed. Came back and sat there with her. The miracles started in the waiting room, even the doctors/nurses wanted me to leave her alone. Disclaimer! The Lord had added to my reserves of stubbornness. Just for the season. I didn't leave. Leave where? Leave who? Me? No! The attendants suggested that we break the water so it hurries the process
By now, we are at eight centimeters. We prepared and walked into the labour room. There's noise and wailing in that place. I understood why looking at my wife. It's a different experience.

So they broke her water and it was like the pain switch had been adjusted to maximum. I have never seen someone in such pain. And for a blessing like a baby? How could pain be so beautiful and yet that hurting? That's some real paradox, I would ask to go back to Eden but I can't fight the man above. He's above all. My patience had a boost too, thanks to the Man above! I stayed there. Other women were wailing alone or with attendants, mine had me by her side. I hope it made it easier.

In no time (I am sure Eve will tell you about a millennium here. If any less, a century) we started pushing. I almost snapped when the nurses thought she wasn't ready to push when she was. I was scared too, I have to admit. But then, that did not match the roles I had to play. A husband, a father, an encourager, a motivator, a pain soother, a cheerer. Can you add any if you have been in that position?
We pushed hard. We pushed with breaks and special breathing. We finally made it. Bethuel Imani showed up: tiny, small, handsome, beautiful, innocent. For the very first time, he came to planet Earth. They laid him on his mother's bosom and then to that thing they put them in.

I didn't go to him immediately. I checked to make sure Eve was okay first and then went to him. I introduced myself to him, prayed for him, told him his name, and expressed how joyful and grateful I was to see and have him. I quickly went back to the mother who was complaining about being hungry. Who would not after bringing an entire human being to the world? We had planned for this so I got her food and helped her eat. Those nurses and "deliverers" looked at me as they talked amongst themselves. We could even hear them. Ooh, I am treating her too well. Ooh, I am too caring. Ooh, she's okay. Ooh, she should have come with a lady. Showing up and being there for my wife was that unwanted of a deal? Even for women?

The story continues. I helped my wife, of course with the attendants, to move her to the maternity ward. I carried my own baby, yes I did. We got a bed and settled. People were shocked that I was the only one helping her. Men and women alike. Women? They didn't expect and almost didn't want me there. It was worse when I went to wash the leso and dress my wife was in. The one she had when delivering. It was full of clotted blood and things. Even, I shocked myself (laughing). I had a woman guard take me to the ward bathrooms to wash these. Whoever saw me had the same look that expressed: What are you doing? Are you stupid? Can't someone else do that? Are you out of your mind? Wacha umama! Umekaliwa chapati! When I went to hang the clothes, I became an attraction. It's a wonder how I didn't find myself on TikTok or social media. I should have remembered to charge people for looking at me.

I stayed with my wife in that ward for two nights. It was unavailable and people almost didn't want me there. They didn't say it. But do they have to? It was a beautiful experience that left me wondering why things are the way they are. They can be better. Men, we can do and make things better. Women, you can support making things better and not support the status quo.

I guess most of you want that kind of support. Show it then.

Well, we are six months today,  look at us having an evening walk, and I continue to be the father and husband I want. No one will define that for me.