I have always been fascinated by the dynamics of relationships and the thinking of couples. I came across this story n i loved it alot. I surely can't rest before i share it.
Let's say a guy named Mwangi is
attracted to a woman
named Njambi. He asks her out to a
movie, she accepts; they have a
pretty good time. A few nights later
he asks her out to dinner, and again
they enjoy themselves.
They continue to see each other
regularly, and after a while neither
one of them is seeing anybody else.
And then, one evening when they're
driving home, a thought occurs to
Njambi, and, without really thinking,
she says it aloud, "Do you
realize that, as of tonight, we've
been seeing each other for exactly
six months?"
And then there is silence in the car.
To Njambi, it seems like a very loud
silence. She thinks to herself, "Ngai!
I wonder if it bothers him that I
said that. Maybe he's been feeling
confined by our
relationship; maybe he thinks I'm
trying to push him into some kind of
obligation that he doesn't want, or
isn't sure of."
And Mwangi is thinking, "Ngoma! Six
months!"
And Njambi is thinking, "But, hey,
I'm not so sure I want this kind of
relationship, either. Sometimes I
wish I had a little more space, so
I'd have time to think about
whether I really want us to keep
going the way we are, moving
steadily toward...I mean, where are
we going?
Are we just going to keep seeing
each other at this level of
intimacy?
Are we heading toward marriage?
Toward children?
Toward a lifetime together? Am I
ready for that level of commitment?
Do I really even know this person?"
And Mwangi is thinking, "...so that
means it was...let's see...February
when we started going out, which
was right after I had the car at the
garage, which means...let me check
the odometer...Whoa!
I am way overdue for an oil change
here."
And Njambi is thinking, "He's upset.
I can see it on his face.
Maybe I'm reading this completely
wrong. Maybe he wants more from
our relationship, more intimacy, and
more commitment; maybe he has
sensed....even before I sensed
it...that I was feeling some
reservations. Yes, I bet that's it.
That's why he's so reluctant to say
anything about his own feelings.
He's afraid of being rejected."
And Mwangi is thinking, "And I'm
going to have them look at the
clutch again. I don't care what those
Nugus say, it's still not engaging
right.
And they better not try to blame it
on the cold weather this time.
What cold weather? It's 18degrees
outside, and this thing is shifting
like a chokora garbage truck, and I
paid those incompetent thieves
12,000 bob!"
And Njambi is thinking, "He's angry.
And I don't blame him. I'd be angry,
too. Ngai! I feel so guilty, putting
him through this, but I can't help
the way I feel. I'm just not sure."
And Mwangi is thinking, "They'll
probably say it's only a 90-day
warranty. That's exactly what they're
going to say, the nyangaus."
And Njambi is thinking, "Maybe I'm
just too idealistic, waiting for a
knight to come riding up on his
white horse, when I'm sitting right
next to a perfectly good person, a
person I enjoy being with, a person
I truly do care about, and a person
who seems to truly care about me.
A person who is in pain because of
my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic
fantasy."
And Mwangi is thinking, "Warranty?
They want a warranty I'll give them
a bloody warranty. I'll take their
warranty and stick it right up
their..."
"Mwangi," Njambi says aloud.
"What?" asks Mwangi, startled.
"Please don't torture yourself like
this," she says, her eyes
beginning to brim with tears.
"Maybe I should never have...Ngai, I
feel so..." She breaks down, sobbing.
"What?" says Mwangi.
"I'm such a fool," Njambi sobs. "I
mean, I know there's no knight. I
really know that. It's silly. There's
no knight, and there's no horse."
"There's no horse?" says Mwangi..
"You think I'm a fool, don't you?"
Njambi says.
"No!" says Mwangi, glad to finally
know the correct answer.
"It's just that...It's that I...I need
some time," Njambi says.
There is a 15-second pause while
Mwangi, thinking as fast as he can,
tries to come up with a safe
response. Finally he comes up with
one that he thinks might work.
"Yes," he says.
Njambi, deeply moved, touches his
hand. "Oh, Mwangi, do you really
feel that way?" she says.
"What way?" says Mwangi.
"That way about time," says Njambi.
"Oh," says Mwangi. "Yes."
Njambi turns to face him and gazes
deeply into his eyes, causing him to
become very nervous about what she
might say next, especially if it
involves a horse.
At last she speaks. "Thank you,
Mwangi," she says.
"Thank you," says Mwangi.
Then he takes her home, and she
lies on her bed, a conflicted,
tortured soul, and weeps until dawn,
whereas when Mwangi gets back to
his place, he opens a bag of crisps,
turns on the TV, and immediately
becomes deeply involved in a rerun
of a tennis match between two
Czechoslovakians he never heard of,
as he awaits the big match of the
day between MAN-U and STOKE CITY
A tiny voice in the far recesses
of his mind tells him that something
major was going on back there in
the car, but he is pretty sure there
is no way he would ever understand
what, and so he figures it's better if
he doesn't think about it... (This is
also Mwangi's policy regarding world
hunger)
The next day Njambi will call her
closest friend, or perhaps two of
them, and they will talk about this
situation for six straight hours.
In painstaking detail, they will
analyze everything she said and
everything he said, going over it
time and time again, exploring every
word, expression, and gesture for
nuances of meaning, considering
every possible ramification. They will
continue to discuss this subject, off
and on, for weeks, maybe months,
never reaching any definite
conclusions, but never getting bored
with it, either.
Meanwhile, Mwangi, while playing
Pool table one day with a mutual
friend of his and Njambi's will pause
just before serving, frown, and say,
"Kamau, did Njambi ever own a
horse??"
