Chapter 3: The girl child has seen days

This is how every mess is made, be it in traffic jams, debt, politics, marriage… but let’s focus on this story. In this story we are not talking about a messy marriage, but a literal mess in the marriage.

It was morning. When Mabel woke up and rolled to the side of the bed to reach her phone something in the bed pinched her. It was the wrapping paper of some biscuits.

She sneered, of course, and tossed it out of the bed. Then something scratched her. It was a crisp. She sneered again, of course, then sniffed and ate it. Then she stepped out of the bed and began to head to the bathroom. She had to pause on the way because there was a pile of clothes blocking the path. She sneered and kicked it out of the way and into another pile growing in another way and finally made it to the loo. She sat down. None of your business followed, and then she realised that there was no TP.

And that was the breaking point.

Mabel shouted: DUDE!

Papso woke up.

Mabel: DUDE!

Papso: I don’t want. I’m sleeping.

Mabel: DUUUUUUUUDE!

Papso: What!!!!!! AH!

For the next one, the tone softened a bit. This meant, ironically, that things were serious.

Mabel: Dude?

Papso: Grunt.

Mabel’s voice, soft and pleading, wafted from the bathroom.

Mabel: Okay, you know I love you, yeah? For many reasons. One of them is that I always know I can turn to you whenever I need help.

Papso: Eh heh?

He was trying to decide whether to be worried or suspicious.

Mabel: Like, no matter what I am going through I can always talk to you?

Papso: Uhh huh?

Mabel: That is what I thought, but apparently, there are times when I can’t tell you what is going on.

Papso: What is happening?

Mabel: I just told you, I can’t tell you what I am going through. But I need your help desperately.

Papso: Mebz.

Mabel: DON’T COME IN HERE!

Papso: Oooooooh.

Now he got it. They often tell you that the secret to a solid relationship is being good at clear communication. But did you know that the other secret to a solid relationship is being good at unclear communication? Papso understood what was happening. So he also stumbled out of his side of the bed. There were crisps in his sandals, and a stain from strawberry squash was dry but smelling. Once he made it out, he started to look around for a pair of trousers. He stepped over scattered pizza boxes and takeaway bags to the cupboard. When he opened it, the cupboard was empty. But there was a pile of crumpled clothes all around the laundry basket. That’s where all the trousers were.

Papso figured that, since they were the only ones in the house, he could freely walk around in his boxers.

He stepped outside and climbed down the stairs to the dining table where half a pack of napkins sat, amidst a sprawling pile of chicken buckets, beer cans, tomato sauce packs and plastic forks. He could see their diet for the weeks since the kids had left, but he could not see the table underneath it. There was so much junk that the table was invisible.

The sitting room was a warzone. The bedroom was chaos. And he did not even want to think of the kitchen. He just grabbed the napkins and turned back to go upstairs to rescue his wife.

Papso: Here. Brought napkins.

Mabel: Leave them at the door and exit the room. I don’t want you to see me like this.

Papso: What are you talking about? Woman, I was in the delivery room whe…

Mabel: I said EXIT THE ROOM! NO STUTTER!

And When she doesn’t stutter, you have to do what she says.

An hour later they were downstairs, having crisps and soda for breakfast. Someone had to say it. 

Mabel: We need a new maid.

Papso: But we agreed. With the kids out of the house, we don't need a maid. We can clean up after ourselves. It’s just the two of us.

Mabel could see that he didn’t realise how dire things had become.

Mabel: Dude, I saw a rat. It is going to call its girlfriend and this…

She waved at the chaos covering their dining room,

Mabel:... is about to be full of rats. They will breed, and next thing you know, fifteen rats. And fifteen rats in one room, that’s rat Nyege Nyege. You don’t know rats. If you ever see two rats of different gender and you can’t kill both, kill one at least, because otherwise, you will come back and find a clan. We have to act now to save ourselves.

Papso: Nawe, we are mature adults. We can clean up after ourselves.

Mabel: We have been saying we will clean up for weeks. What have we cleaned? Isn’t that a biscuit under the carpet? Why is it turning black?

Papso: Okay, this weekend, we will clean. Kama mbaya mbaya.

Mabel: Do you know the rate at which rats multiply? Dude, give the rat I saw one chance to get a girlfriend-- or maybe a boyfriend; let me not assume genders. But it looked male. It looked like, you know that Andrew Tate you men like? Like him.

Papso: Who said I like Andrew Tate?

Mabel: If you don’t follow Andrew Tate, how do you know who he is? And see you cutting women off in the middle of them still talking. That’s proof that you follow Andrew Tate!

Papso: If I don’t cut you off you are going to continue and continue until you have imagined a whole rat nation in our house and even given it a name.

Mabel: Ratislavia.

Papso: Mebzy-Babesy, we will clean over the weekend.

Mabel: The rat was in the shower, dude. Who has a rat in their shower?

Papso: Then, what we need is an exterminator, not a maid.

Mabel realised that it was time to refocus the picture. These are things she learned from her vast experience in comms, how to stay on message and remove distractions.

Mabel: Dude, the plan was that we were supposed to have our free, fun bachelor days, right? No need to answer. It’s Right. But clearly we did not consider that bachelors live in squalor. I can't live like a squalid bachelor, Chweedie. I can't live a life of rats in the shower.

Papso: I know. I thought bachelor life was free, irresponsible, reckless and independent fun times. I had not considered the by-products. So we get a maid?

Mabel: We can be bachelors with a maid. 

Papso got up. He slooooorrped the last bubble of soda from his bottle. But she had made a point and he had seen it.

Papso: I have to go to work.

Mabel: Come back with a maid.

Papso: I don't even know where they find maids these days. Mpozzi where did we find Zabeti? Zabeti came to us twenty four years ago. Where did we find her?

Mabel: Your mum sent her from the village to help me when I was pregnant. Can we get Zabeti to come back?

Papso: No chance. You saw how happy she was when we kick... when we set the children free? She is enjoying retirement too much.

Mabel had an idea.

Mabel: You know the speakers on the stick in the trading centre? On your way to work, stop and tell the guy to announce, ‘Maid wanted. Opportunities for the Girl Child. Hashtag Fight Youth Unemployment. Tunoonya mukozi. Details inside.’ That is how those of Kasozis got the carpenter who fixed their cupboard. Got to use the speaker.

Papso had to go. There are a few hidden, extra prices to pay if you chose to live in a neighbourhood like Bweyogerere. There is the traffic jam, there is the need to leave early so that you don’t spend too much time in the traffic jam, there is the need to not spend so much time in traffic that you are late for work, lose your job, and now can’t afford the maid you have to hire. He got up and started to hustle out.

He tip-toed through the sitting room which was as trash-filled as the dining room, kicking a wine box out of the way. It knocked the remote control under the sofa, and he didn't notice that this was why they always spent more time looking for the remote than using it. As he exited the door he could hear Mabel shout from the corridors. “Mmesse gwe lekelawo okummanyiira. Ddayo mu kinaabiro. Waaaaah! Nooo! Help!”*

“You rat or mouse, desist from your audacious trespass within my domicile. Return to the bathroom.”