I am forty-four years of age, with a good job having risen from an office assistant to the regional administrator, an old system sixth form drop-out. I am the first born in a family of six siblings all whom have ‘settled’. I am single and unattached, with no children of my own.
I am here today because I need help from you ladies and gentlemen of this site. I want to love and be loved in return. So, no fancy English or clichés; I will say it as it is therefore buckle up for it is going to be a bumpy ride.
I have had about ten relationships since I turned eighteen but all have ended, some acrimoniously, but most by mutual agreement and consent. In that regard, I have written down the main reasons that, in my opinion, led to the parting of ways and hope that out there somewhere, there could be an angel who meets the character traits that I am looking for.
Hair. Yes ladies. Hair. I hate those, may I call them things, which women put on over their hair. Nothing disgusts me more than a woman patting her head trying to reach an itch under the “thing.”
Scent. I have a very sensitive nose. Body odor, certain sprays, perfume, roll on, et al drive me right up the wall if not to my liking. Many are the occasions I have had to send underlings home to have a bath and change the perfume they are wearing for I simply could not work. It at some point even became an excuse for the women who wanted a morning or afternoon off to look up and put on a spray that they would know I would not like.
Music. I have a weakness for Michael Joseph Jackson and music of the eighties and early nineties. I can stand only a few local musicians like Czars, the Boomba train kid, E-Sir (RIP) and Kikuyu artists who did their thing in the sixties and early seventies. The result is that if you play any other music in my presence, I become restless and will most probably let off steam in a manner that might offend one.
FM stations. If it is not Classic105, Kiss100, EasyFM or BBC World Service, do not switch on the radio in my presence. I hate those local tribal FM stations with a passion. Many a time I have walked out at home, even back in the village for these are the main stations played.
I love action movies and legal series. I mean those with few if any mushy mushy scenes. Examples are 24, Suits, Strike Back, Boston Legal, 007 and so on. While other men go out and drink or do drugs for entertainment or simply as a way to relax, I put these on and can watch them all night or a whole weekend.
Dress code. I am very open with that. Wear anything you feel comfortable in, just not that stocking on the head. At least not in public and please, change night dresses once a year. What drives me crazy is a lovely woman going to the shop early in the morning to buy breakfast items wearing a stocking over her thing over her hair and a tattered nightdress.
Children. I do not want children of my own. However, I can play daddy for your daughter with ease. During the days of wars by a known and ‘banned criminal organization’ in Kirinyaga, one old man advised me not to join a group that was then a white-collar arm of the local organization. This saved me from being delivered to the “Hague” like the rest of them. He passed away later but before he did, he used to entrust his young daughter to me.
I soon discovered I like playing daddy where she was concerned. Babie, a delightful sixteen year girl is now so dear to me that I can kill for her. Babie’s mom and I had a brief affair but it did not work out although on discovering my entrusted relationship with Babie, she lets me visit and allows Babie to visit during holidays, mid-term breaks and I am also registered as her step father at her school.
Status. I do not mind your level of education or how much you make every month. I am also a spend thrift so I feel that we should have a joint account where all my income goes into and I feel that for our future’s sake, you ought to strictly control every shilling spent.
Meals. A decent meal once a day is all I ask for.
Figure. Again I do not mind but if you look like Rihanna, slender, small breasts, long legs, the better.
So, that’s me. However, to get some sort of balance, I did call up some of my past enamors and asked them what in their respective opinion was the good and the bad in me that led to our parting ways.
The good. The entire lot of them loved my dress code although old fashioned. Always in neatly pressed suits and especially shirts. Always in highly polished leather shoes no matter how old they were.
Ambition. Most gave me credit for having a highly ambitious mind especially where my job is concerned.
One at a time. I did not have another relationship while having one with each one. I never two-timed and always concentrated on one woman at a time. I also seemed to genuinely like children especially the girls but would go to any length to prevent having children of my own.
I do not drink, smoke, or do drugs. I did do cannabis sativa in the late eighties but this was because I repeated in a bush high school where this was compulsory.
The sex. The fact that I have a fetish for going down on my enamors is what came out clearly from all; I also love caressing and messaging women skin. It is so soft and delightful to touch. This seems to be the major thing they miss in their respective relationships after we parted ways. Otherwise I am just an average one-round-per-night-then-roll-over-and-sleep-in-a-snoring-fit-bloke to paraphrase Ms. Mutoko where matters sex are concerned.
The bad. They all accused me of being a snob. This came out in my choice of music and television stations. I cannot stand Naija movies, tribal FM stations, the Royal Media Group stations, Mexican and Asian soaps and the likes. The worst part was that I would develop an instant dislike for people who professed to enjoy the stations and therefore the snob tag.
Again, in as far as snobbery is concerned, I seem to be the only person each lady knew that did not like being at home – back in the village or ‘gichagi’ as is known in Kenya. Most would question me closely and it turns out as young boy, I never got over moving from town to gichagi. I therefore developed a disliking for anything ‘gichagi’ including the people and their respective habits and characteristics. The result is that I do not even have a cube or house in my father’s homestead.
Moody. I was accused of being a loner. So close yet so distant and would often disappear into myself and my movies. Any time I put on 24 or any action movie or television series, the lady would immediately know that I was no longer in the house – physical presence notwithstanding.
Spendthrift. I have very little power in holding and investing my hard-earned cash. A very impulsive spender was another recurring accusation.
Children. Nobody seems to understand the reason why I do not want to have children of my own yet I seem to be so good with children, even to the extent of being a very good step-father.
The general dislike involved being a workaholic or using my job as an excuse to a function where I was not having fun. Many a day I would leave the house or home on the pretext that I was going to work even on Sundays, public holidays or during family get together functions.
My relationship with God does not also seem to come out clearly. I cannot stand local but like American and British Gospel music. I even bought a Women of Faith VCD once. I also cannot stand local preachers but I remember having fun listening to a Briton Reverend who visited our local Anglican Church. I also attend church when my step-daughter asks me to accompany her. The rest of the time I simply cannot be bothered. It is usually so boring and I find myself looking at the women and the dress code for the men.
There you have it. That is Mahe Goat for you. Do not feel constrained to comment. Let me have it all and if there is someone out there who can stand me, give me a call and I will promise heaven.
By Mahe Goat – Guest Writer