The Second Wife

"Whaaaaaack!" I jumped like a dog that had been poked with a stick at the nether region, a primitive yelp that would chase away any interested suitor escaping my lips. I didn't have to turn around to know that mother was there fuming probably preparing to land another electric strike. Only my mother would whack you with a cooking stick that still has hot ugali clinging on it.

With the speed of lightening, I took off towards a communial tea plantation praying that the village steeplechase champion would trip on something, saving me from the receiving end of the unforgiving cooking stick. I would have made it to my safe haven were it not for a certain loyal dog that had joined the chase probably out of spite for being poked. The Boerboel tackled me to the ground and pinned my scrawny self there untill it's equally wicked owner caught up.

"Stupid dog, can't you just let it go? Still holding a grudge ten years later eiish!'' I yelled at the annoying beast trying in vain to shake off the dead weight. After praising and patting the dog to the point of making me jelouse, mother dearest helped me up by the ears then proceeded to do a rediculous number on me. I couldn't even lie my way out 'cause this time around, I had no clue of what I had done wrong. Knowing my mother, the accusation would come after the unceremonious beating. Luckily, I had managed to steer her away from possible spectators, meaning my romantic relationship with the future world marathon champion Kiplagat, wasn't jeopardized. Phew!

"Next time, Chelimo..." she stoped to give me a threatening look holding up her index finger, "...next time you allow that boy with chicken legs access to your-your secret garden,....." she stoped to swallow saliva "....make sure I don't find out."

"Mscheeeeeew!" I jeered stumping my feet in anger like a brat that I was. "They are beautiful legs of a long distance runner, mother. He-"

"Whaaaack!"

"Who are you jeering at and what nonsence are you spewing? Disappear or I- " I didn't have to wait for another whacking. I ran back home hoping to put everything in order by the time she arrived. When my mother tells you to disappear, she means to find you at home with all chores done and school books opened or else.....

Damn, of all days, this had to happen on the night I had planned to sneak out to a local dance with my future gold medallist.

I knew Kiplagat wouldn't take kindly being stood up, especialy behind the bugs infested acacia tree where we had agreed to meet at. With his ego the size of Turkana county, I was sure he would dump me before cockcrow. I tried sneaking a letter to him through my younger brother Kipchoge but it was intercepted by father who had given himself a boarder patrol duty to prevent the ''hungry hyenas'' attending the infamous local dance from trying to get their paws on his only daughter. The stupid letter prompted another endless family meeting which was generally me being yelled at and another one week of house arrest with mother's hawk eyes on me throughout.

It was on a Saturday when I was finally allowed to leave my father's compound to go to a youth's meeting at our local church, being that I needed the 'sex after marriage' talk more than any other youth in the village. Of course, my mother who kept reminding me that I can never ever outwit her because like she said 'has been there and done that', escorted me to the meeting and promised to pick me up as soon as it was over.

Rumours had it that in three days, my Kiplagat would be participating in the Safaricom Marathon in Nairobi. I guessed that would be when the wicked woman would set me free. Anyway, who did I meet singing praises in the house of the Lord? KIPLAGAT.

Beside him, seated in a chair that was supposed to be mine, was an annoyingly happy Chepkoech. I decided to take a seat two raws behind them just so I could gauge what kind of a relationship they were in. I was about to dismiss it as innocent when I saw my Kiplagat stealthy snaking his long thin arm around Chepkoech's tiny waist. I hate to admit that at that moment, I noticed that unlike me, the woman was endowed in all the right places.

"What did you do?" asked the kind portly doctor wearing a white dust coat and an old stethescope hanging on his neck . He had that smile that you wouldn't see in many people. The kind that draws you in and instil trust. The kind that encourages you to continue spilling tea, promising you that it would never be repeated to another soul.

"Nothing. I couldn't do anything," I said blinking back tears that wanted to embarrass me. "I wanted to go there to explain to him what had happened the night we were supposed to meet but it was like the wonderful arms of the Lord that we were singing about, held me in place. I couldn't even walk out. I stayed glued onto my chair until the time mother came to pick me up," the stupid tears ran down my face and I wiped them furiously. I remembered mother asking me what was wrong and I had lied that I was touched by the teaching about purity drawing from her a smile that I hadn't seen on her face ever since I turned thirteen.

"Where is Kiplagat now?" he asked giving me a sympathetic look.

"Nairobi. I saw him on TV a month or so ago. He won the the Safaricom marathon and went on to win the standard chartered marathon too. He has money now and I hear he's planning his traditional wedding with Chepkoech. Come to think of it, he mus-"

"Wait! He's getting married? How old is he and why didn't you try to find him before he left?" He was becoming annoying now. That kind smile that I had explained earlier had disappeared and was replaced by a curious look and something else that made me think that maybe it wasn't a good idea sharing like I did but I need his help so...

"Before I was rudely interrupted," he crinched at that, "I was going to tell you that he must have cheated on me when we were together. Otherwise that marriage wouldn't be happening this fast. To answer your second question, he's twenty three and she's nineteen."

"And you are seventeen, right?" he asked raising an eyebrow at me.

"Yea, yea but that's not import right now. I'm sure you understand now why I cant keep this baby. My mother will kill me and Kiplagat is someone else's now. Please, please help me. I dont have money right now but I'll pay you somehow. I promise," I pleaded. I was still a high school student and wasn't ready to become a single parent. Knowing my mother, there was a possibility of me being a crippled or retarded single parent if the good doctor refused to help.

"Please Sir?"

"It's illigal, Chelimo and as a parent myself, I am obligated to inform your parents. In fact they are already at the waiting area. I had the nurse call them," the treacherous doctor informed me. I could do nothing but scowl and mentally strangle him to death.

"In case you are wondering how I got their number, your father is the village elder, stupid girl," said the annoying idiot. I was about to give him a piece of my mind for calling me stupid when a nurse peeked in.

"The elder's wife seems a bit impatient, doctor." She had an annoyed expression that could only mean that mother was pestering her.

"Please show them in."

I fainted.

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I woke up in a very familiar room, lying in a very familiar bed. A bed I had played bedminton in with a certain tall athlete. How did I even end up in Kiplagat's bedroom? What happened to my parents and doctor Traitor?

"Oh you are awake. You must be hungry. I'll go get you some milk, sweetheart." In my state of confusion, I hadn't realised that someone else was in the room until they spoke. I glanced up to meet a smilling face of Mrs. Kurgat.

"Why am I here?" I asked panicking. I was expecting my mother to walk in any moment holding the unforgiving cooking stick. Maybe they had decided to punish me from where the abominable act took place.

"Your parents brought you here," she responded without losing the kind smile.

"Why? Where are they?" I had to know just in case I needed to prepare for a quick get away.

"Because you are carrying my grandchild, sweetheart. Don't worry about your parents. You are ours now. Now, can I go get that glass of milk?"

'Your are ours now.' What did she mean by that? Did my parents give me away while I was unconcious? Did they not love me anymore? Were they getting rid of me? Did they not even want to see me? Were they ashamed of me? Was I that bad?

"Wait please. Does Kiplagat know? Is he still getting married?" I guess I looked so pitiful asking those questions 'cause she came and sat on the bed and pulled me into a tight embrace rocking me back and forth while rubbing my back soothingly.

"Yes dear. He knows. He's not happy about it but he'll come around. Their wedding will be on friday next week then yours on your eighteenth birthday." She didn't break the embrance 'cause now I was involuntarily trembling.

"It's not that bad, honey. It gets lonely sometimes but you'll get used to it. I know because I'm also a second wife. Now harsh child. I'll go get you that glass of milk." She kissed my forehead and walked out of the room. I slumped back on the bed bawling my eyes out.

How could I be a second wife? I was supposed to be the only wife. Loved, wanted, old enough, educated, independent and happy. The one to be showed to the public, escort my husband to his athletic games, host his colleagues, friends and etcetera. I knew what I would be and I hated it with passion. I would be the accidental wife of my husband. The one whose unloving husband would only remember when denied his conjugal rights by the first wife.

I should have listened to my mother.

I should have listened to all the purity teachings at the youth's meetings.

I should have understood why my parents were so strict 'cause in the society that I was born in, you only marry the parent of your child.

On 18th of october 1984, I, Chelimo Bett became the official second wife of Kiplagat Arap Towet.

The End.

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