THE LAND OF ‘MARRIED-SINGLES’

 

THE LAND OF ‘MARRIED-SINGLES’

The question of marital status appears on many official forms that we must complete occasionally. While it is a simple tick on one of the options for some people, it becomes a thoughtful as well as stressful unpleasant task for some. As may be the case for the divorced, so is it also for some in marriage whose marriages seem well sat on the fence. For them, neither ‘married’ nor ‘single’ seems fit. Perhaps an option for ‘married-single’ would fit best. The term "married singles" is today so common-place phrase in radio talk shows, social media debates, relationship forums as well as Girls Catch-up Meetings. Of her own making or not, a legally or traditionally married woman describing herself as such may be indicating a functional issue in her marriage. Chama day was last Saturday afternoon and as was usual, the meeting was in Savanna Coffee lounge in Upperhill. The Chama was now more than five years and so far, had purchased a 2-bedroom apartment on Waiyaki way, earning the chama 30K monthly. Save for investments, the women really needed the group for emotional release and support. And as they came in and sat at their favorite corner, five rings glittered on five fingers as the meeting began with growing intrigues of the stories behind their wedding bands. For Wangui, her husband hadn't worked in four years since his last contract ended and hadn’t found another job but didn’t seem so serious looking for one, yet he still demanded his shirts ironed and his ego massaged because, he was the man. That morning, Wangui had quietly paid the rent, bought the groceries, and transferred cash to his phone so he could buy drinks with his friends. Physically, she had a partner; financially, she stood entirely on her own. She anchored a home that seemed to fast lose its soul. Wangui’s was of cases where women step to fill the gap of "Absent Provider" men. Here, a woman bears 100% of the financial responsibility for the household and the children without male support. She is essentially a "married single". As Kamene walked in, her eyes seemed heavy with exhaustion. She had spent Saturday morning racing between a client meeting, a pediatrician's clinic, and an academic clinic. Unaware of their daughter’s high fever or their son’s performance at school, her husband was home nursing Friday’s hangover. He was like a guest in his own family. Kamene managed the chaos of parenting entirely alone. Kamene’s case is of men living like their fathers, completely absent from their children's lives resultantly making their wives "Married Single Mothers".  Such men often use the excuse of "hustling" or working late to completely detach from domestic and parental duties.  Kamene was a mother, she was a father, she was alone. Chao stirred her coffee, staring into the dark liquid. She lived in a sprawling four-bedroom house in Kilimani, yet she had never felt more isolated. She and her husband shared a roof, a surname, and a chore wheel, but nothing else. They hadn’t spoken a word of genuine vulnerability in five years. They moved around each other like polite strangers in a boarding house, fulfilling duties but sharing no warmth. Chao’s was a case of ‘Flatmate’ syndrome that makes a couple live like roommates experiencing a catastrophic breakdown of emotional intimacy. The women here share a roof, bills, and children with a man, but live separate emotional lives without vulnerability or companionship; the relationship operates purely on logistics and duty, unfortunately so, even their sex life.  They are simply "roommates with a marriage certificate." Nanjala adjusted her scarf, her smile tight. Her husband’s car hadn't been in their driveway since Wednesday; everyone in their social circle knew about the college girl he rented an apartment for across town. Yet, Nanjala refused to leave. The shame of a broken customary marriage and the nightmare of returning the dowry kept her anchored. She wore the ring like a shield against societal gossip, living like a widow behind closed doors. Nanjala was a victim of the booming "sponsor" and "Mpango " culture which runs alongside legalized polygamy. In Kenya today, It is common for married men to emotionally or physically desert their primary homes to live with other women or spend their weekends out, leaving their wives alone. Because the legal or customary process of divorce and returning dowry is complicated, stressful, and highly stigmatized, many women choose to stay in the marriage for the sake of societal standing or the children, while living a completely single lifestyle. Finally, Makena seemed to radiate a different kind of energy. Her wedding band sat next to a massive diamond she had bought for herself to celebrate a corporate promotion. She loved her husband, but she refused to be consumed by his shadow. She kept her own bank accounts, bought her own plots of land, and traveled with her girlfriends whenever she pleased. For Makena, the title was an option, not an identity. Her freedom and happiness were paramount beyond the marriage knot. Makena did not mind other fascinating romantic encounters occasionally just for the thrill of it and why not, she preferred to be more single than married. Makena is a case of highly empowered Kenyan women for whom marriage does not define or restrict them. They maintain their own social circles, financial assets, investments, and independent decision-making capabilities without being subsumed by their husband's authority. And so were the five rings, five marriage certificates and a common reality.  So goes the stories of the five and the conclusion that would largely blame it on the men of today, who hardly man-up. And as their Chama treasurer Wangui paid the bill, they all looked at each other, smiled through the intrigues of their stories, and toasted to the sisterhood of the married singles.

©Stephen Mungai