Today I feel special; special enough actually to not whine about how women make life difficult for men. I actually feel like I am one in a million. Of course I know how invalid this argument would be if I were in China, where one in a million translates into roughly three thousand other ‘one in a million people’ exactly like you, but what the hell. This is Africa; Kenya to be specific, where everything is either made in China or made in Kenya- by the Chinese. I feel special not because i finally got laid by Julie Gichuru, but because for the first time in my life, I feel I made a difference in someone’s life. In fact, if anyone cares, I feel I deserve a Nobel Prize.
As you all very well know, I now realize my days to fill the Earth are numbered courtesy of the woman that scared me half to death at Kenya Cinema the yesterday. Quite frankly, I understand what the Calendar in my living room feels to have her days numbered- yes it is a she. Don’t ask why, just know it has something to do with the photo on her that I realized is the ultimate icebreaker when I bring a chic home and has consequently gotten me laid a number of times. So anyway, since my near death experience, I decided to make my remaining days on Earth count. I just didn’t know how yet. However, the more I thought about it, the more I came to the conclusion that I first had to accept the fact that everyone is entitled to their opinion and that I had to figure out how to accept people’s opinions without compromising my own. You see, opinion, like an asshole, is one of those things that everyone has. No matter how big or small or how stinky or fresh they are, at the end of the day, everyone has an opinion. It means that you are accommodative enough, but it is up to you to convince people why they should go with your opinion. It was this decision that got me to the events of today and consequently, this post.
It all started yesterday in the morning when Ken, a pal of mine and a colleague at work, told me he needed to find an excuse to skip work; somehow for the next hour, it led to a serious brain-storming session as we tried to figure out the perfect excuse that was guaranteed to work. To cut the story short, we decided to tell ‘his highness’ that my colleague’s girlfriend was pregnant and that she had just called from the hospital saying that her water broke. You see, the beauty of it was that we had been making jokes in the office about who was going to be a father before the other and my boss is one of those people who just cannot avoid listening into conversations- his secretary too, although I tend to overlook this fact because she is totally bangable. And we knew he is the sort of person that takes things a little too seriously, hence it was undoubtedly going to work. True, it worked like a charm. He fell flat for the lie and at that point, we were convinced the pair of us would have made the best defense lawyers in the land. I really have nothing against lawyers, except I always warn people, be wary when dealing with one. Many lawyers are genuinely good people… it is the other 99% of them that give the rest a bad name.
By this point, I know you must wonder how Ken skipping work turned from being a solo project to project “WE skip work” I am sure. The simple reason is that I take my friendships quite seriously. I am the sort of friend that will be beside you in jail when you get caught committing murder because I was caught as I tried to help you conceal the evidence. So in this particular instance, I wasn’t going to let Ken enjoy his freedom alone. The sad thing about karma is that it always has a way of getting back at you… it is like misfortune, which never misses either. And it did strike us when we least needed it. Murphy’s Law dictates that bad things always happen when they are least needed or expected.
The instant we got out of that office, we knew we had a whole day to ourselves to party and simply spoil ourselves. We had made a list of people to call in advance- people that were jobless enough to turn up no matter what. We were happy; happier than my friend Elvis when he discovered he could actually delete Windows to create more space for porn in his computer hard drive, and then use a Linux Ubuntu Live CD to boot the computer and access the stash. No more creating folders and subfolders like ‘Office/Documents/Important/Backup/New folder/etc…/’. (It works by the way, this is not made up.) He is way past that age now, or so he tells us. Anyway, we had just left town and we were on our way to Ken’s place when his girlfriend, Anita, called.
That single phone call changed our day. Karma. Turns out she had missed her period and she actually thought she was pregnant. It gets worse. She was just from the clinic and they confirmed it. And she wanted to keep the baby. Her father is a senior man in one of the current government’s offices. And she’s still in school. Ken wanted an abortion done as soon as possible and he had somehow convinced her it was the best way forward. I would have been okay, except, I did not agree with them. In my honest opinion as I told him, Anita’s initial decision was the right one. It was finally time for him to take responsibility for his actions and I demanded they keep the baby. This baby was the product of a sperm that had fought so hard to beat the rest of the pack to the jackpot and only God knows whether it might have been the one with the DNA of the next president of this country… Okay, on second thought, maybe even the Antichrist, but hey, just like you and me, it deserved its right to life and to see the light of day. Human life is precious, it doesn’t matter how tiny. Besides, if WE did go through with the abortion, how the hell were we supposed to drink away OUR sorrows with no money?
To cut the story short, after I had successfully sold my opinion to Ken, we spent most of the day trying to convince Anita to keep the baby and then, she spent the remaining hours trying to convince us that the best step to take was to inform Ken’s parents as well as hers. In the end, neither party’s parents have been informed yet… We are in fact nursing hangovers and I don’t see either of us making it to work or school tomorrow in Anita’s case. What does matter though is that I feel proud of myself because today I saved a life. The moral of my story or rather, what I learnt from my experience is that not all babies are made as a result of alcohol and two, that alcohol does save lives at times. I believe God finally found a use for my alcoholic tendencies. I may have been selfishly trying to save money for alcohol by preventing Ken from going through with the abortion but it has to count for something that because of me, Kenya’s population expects to increase by one, or God forbid more, in the next nine months. Now, sadly, I have to say bye. My boss is calling I know to ask why I am not in for work and I am off to apply for my Nobel Prize.