Dear BMW,
I think it is matters of the heart that can really kill you. How do you explain a situation where the man I had fallen head over heels in love with gets engaged to some obscure lady after dating me for more than a year?
BMW, our love was something that both sets of parents knew about and at one stage I was actually forced to beat up some overzealous lady who wanted to steal my man from me. I thought I had secured my territory.
Sadly, BMW, I learnt over the weekend that there was some flashy engagement ceremony my man held with this lady from nowhere and there are pictures to prove it. This former man of mine has not at once called it quits because he found love somewhere. I am bitter, angry and confused, but I think I have lost here. Is this how men ought to treat some of us? Akupangiranji zimenezi? BMW, I don’t know what to do, but currently I have resigned to my fate.
Magai, Chilobwe.
Dear Magai,
Let us start with the fistfights. You are here boasting that you once beat up a rival to “secure your territory.” My sister, when you have to physically defend a man from being stolen, you are not protecting a boyfriend, but guarding a loose goat that has a habit of breaking its tether.
You beat up the first thief, but you forgot that a thief who wants to be stolen will always find a more creative burglar. This new lady didn’t try to fight you in the dusty streets of Chilobwe; she simply organised a flashy engagement ceremony with high-definition pictures to prove it. While you were busy deploying localised tactical violence, she was busy buying matching zitenje and booking a photographer. You brought fists to a chess match.
You are asking, “Akupangiranji zimenezi?” (Why is he doing this to me?) and complaining he never formally called it quits. My sister, a man who organises a whole engagement ceremony with catering, decorations and Facebook-ready photos has not just called it quits—he has issued a national press release. He didn’t send you a breakup text because he assumed the glamorous pictures circulating on WhatsApp would serve as his resignation letter.
You say both sets of parents knew about your relationship. In modern dating, parental introduction is no longer a binding legal contract. Parents will smile, eat your khwasu-khwasu chicken and bless your relationship on a Tuesday, then gladly attend a completely different engagement party for their son on a Saturday if the new candidate brings a better financial profile or a more respectable family name.
You say you have resigned to your fate. That is the first sensible thing you have written. Do not go to Chilobwe market looking for the new bride to extend your boxing record. Nkhondo yapa mudzi saimenyera pa khonde la mwana wa masiye. You have lost the match.
Delete the pictures from your phone, nurse your bruised ego and next time, look for a man who doesn’t require a security guard to keep him faithful.
Yours in eternal wisdom,
Big Man Wamkulu
