I got married one year ago - in the middle of the pandemic.
That means I have spent most of my married life trying to beat curfew - at least to be home early enough to see the little lad kick Anita in the stomach.
My wife often jokes that the baby is taking a free kick against Arsenal. Anita knows that I love Arsenal and football - and that I have enough thick skin to withstand trauma.
Anita is eight months pregnant - and is currently on maternity leave.
As for me - I have had to juggle between office work, insane traffic (on my way to work), receiving sweet phone calls from Anita, making phone calls to Anita, more traffic (on my way back home), and spending time with Anita - and of course football on Saturday and Sunday.
All this was taking a toll on me until I met my sister-in-law. Janet.
It happened last weekend. I had stepped out of the house to watch a football match with a group of friends when my phone rang.
It was my wife Anita - and the baby – calling.
It wasn't the first time I was joining my friends to watch a match on a weekend - especially since I lost control of the remote to Anita and my seven-year-old nephew Ronnie.
I often drew consolation from the fact that times have changed especially having grown up at a time when the TV belonged to your father. The children had to watch the 14-inch box from a safe distance - quietly. Ronnie owns the TV.
The little lad spends most of his time hugging and kissing cartoon figures on TV - and leaving his stained fingerprints and lip-marks all over the screen. Imagine.
Such ineptitude would qualify for an abomination back in the day when subscriptions was still a distant rumor. In fact, the word had not even been invented.
And the remote control was still an idea sitting somewhere in the brain waiting to be unearthed.
Sometime I wonder how young Ronnie would have survived back in the 1980s and early 1990s - when the TV was meant to spend most of its years inside this wooden structure that doubled up as a little home for delicate utensils; cups and plates.
The utensils belonged to the visitors.
It was always off - because only your dad, or mum - had the keys to the cupboard. The kids had to make a special request - backed with very good proof that homework had been done – to watch TV.
And whenever it was switched on – the viewers had the daunting task of picking individuals in a sea of waves - which we popularly called ‘mchele’ - kiswahili word for rice.
That was then.
So - here I was with my friends trying to get a place to watch football before early signs of the curfew started manifesting. It was 7:30pm - not a very good time to step out in the name of finding a place to watch a game.
A good football match - will take a whole 3 hours. Anita has never believed that a football match lasts that long.
Three hours is a long time to be away from Anita (and the baby) - and then I would have to abandon the game midway to rush home before 10pm. Such a crime.
Anyway, all of us settled down (in a restaurant) to watch the match - it was Southampton lining up to get a whooping from Chelsea.
That’s when beautiful Anita called - I guess to find out if I had arrived safely.
She does that a lot - and it’s beautiful. Such important calls keep me sane as a man, a father and an Arsenal fan.
I picked the phone and waited. Anita was quiet on the other end. I could hear her heavy breathing. That’s not a good sign.
“Hello! Hello!” I shouted into the earpiece, loud enough to attract the attention of the waitress.
The waitress ran to my side - ready to serve me. Her name was Rose. Anita had had me mention her name a few times.
That’s a story for another day.
I threw one rushed look at my phone just to be sure that Anita was still on the line. The seconds were moving, and slowly graduating into minutes. I gestured to the waitress trying to inform her that I needed no service as I was about to speak to my Anita.
“It’s okay sir. Let me know if you need anything!” Rose the waitress said and walked away.
“Babe,” Anita’s voice came through the speaker.
“Hello!” I replied, sounding relieved.
“Goooaaal! Goooaaal! Goooaaal!”
“Babe…”
The two words; ‘goal’ and ‘babe’ competed for attention in my mind. I chose ‘Babe’ – and I felt my heart landed in the pit of my stomach with a thud. I could hear my good friends cheering - one of the teams had scored, Chelsea or Southampton. I had no idea which one - and I couldn’t wait to find out.
Of course there were those moments when she would call me ‘Babe’ - but I doubt this was one of those moments.
It must be that lad in there who felt it was time to pay earth a visit. I decided to call Anita - again. The call wasn’t going through, network issues. So, I broke into one hell of running headed towards the house.
I ran the entire 300 metres to the house. I felt my lungs break into a thousand pieces before collapsing in my chest cavity. I tripped on a stone - but siku anguka.
I arrived home and the first thing I noticed were nice stiletto shoes outside the door. So, I took time to compose myself - I didn’t want to be seen panting like a goat. I get in and I see this lady. So, I composed myself – again. That’s what decent men do in such circumstance.
“Tom, please meet my elder sister,” my wife said as I extended my hand - before changing my mind and giving her the elbow.
“Hi Tom, it’s nice to finally meet you. Sorry Anita interrupted your match,” she said, and smiled.
“It’s okay Janet, nice to meet you too,” I said and took a seat next to her.
Janet had her phone in her hand - she was watching a football match. I threw a searching look at the phone screen - carefully not to embarrass myself. And she was wearing a Manchester United Jersey. I didn’t need to ask which team she supported. I was wearing Arsenal.
“Babe, Janet is here briefly, and she didn’t want to leave without meeting you,” Anita said, forcing me to lift my overworked eyes from the game.
“Sorry you had to leave the game midway, but you can still finish watching it here - it’s live on Showmax. That’s what I am watching currently,” Janet offered.
How was that even possible - watching English Premier League in the house - on the phone!
“It’s all on Showmax.You know it, don’t you? They have this beautiful offer, you only need to subscribe for one month and you get two months for free. It’s called 3 in 1. That’s how I get to watch football games, and many other sporting events.
I could see Anita (and the baby) smiling - she knew I was going to spend more time with the family now that I had learned about Showmax.
Janet showed me how to subscribe to Showmax and get to enjoy a wide range of games from a number of leagues in the world.
I could watch La Liga where Barcelona are lagging behind in league standings as Atletico Madrid continues to lead.
The same package allows one to watch Italy’s Serie A games - and get to see how Juventus is faring even as Inter Milan continues to do just fine.
Most of all, I get to spend time with Anita (and the baby) - and Ronnie and while at it, enjoy the sports package courtesy of Showmax.
Did I mention that Anita has since begun supporting Arsenal? Well, now I do.
She says I have transformed. She is right.