Happily Ever After
Sometimes, you just want to read a good story about a happy marriage that beats the odds to make it to the ever-elusive happily ever after.
Because every marriage should be happy. It’s not all about the man cheating and the wife, feeling betrayed by the cheating, whining to death about the betrayal. Or picking a fight with the husband’s Mpango Wa Kando. Or finding herself a boy toy to do for her what her husband neglects to do. Marriage should be fulfilling. It shouldn’t just be about the cheating, the violence, the divorce hearings and child support cases punctuated with insults and collection of evidence to slander each other in court. Marriages, miserable as most of them are, come with its fair share of happily, not ever after, but now and then. We like to read a story of a marriage that beat the odds to remain standing in the wake of staggering divorce rates all around.
We would like to dwell on the happily part of the story sometimes. The part where the man falls in love with the woman, the woman realizes that she too harbors romantic feelings for the young man, and, consequently, both fall hopelessly in love with each other.
Nothing wrong with such a story. In fact, nothing thwarts the monopoly enjoyed by crappy marriages like a story about a happy marriage. You’d like to read such a story, wouldn’t you? A story where the man and the woman, having reconciled their feelings for each other, decide to get married? Where bride and groom have a big, beautiful and overly emotional wedding? Where both the bride and groom show up to their wedding and none of them chooses to bail because they happen to fancy some woman they just met? Where the priest or pastor or reverend or rabbi or imam asks if there is anyone who objects to the union of one soon-to-be, say, Mr. and Mrs. Yego, and the said Mr. and Mrs. Yego do not panic that someone from the congregation might stand up to respond to the question asked by the man of God? Wouldn’t you like to hear the man of God’s question answered with pin-drop silence instead? Music to your ears, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you prefer that nobody holds their breath or looks around expectantly to see who will get up, going to show how Mr. Yego is a trusted man and his soon-to-be wife a trusted woman? Wouldn’t you love the idea that everyone present will not be worried that a woman called Nyokabi might approach the altar with a small boy or girl in tow and claim that the Mr. Yego standing over there, next to the man of God, all suited up and ready to recite some vows to his chosen Mrs, is the same man responsible for the child whose hand she’d be holding? Wouldn’t you remind yourself to be happy that there is no Nyokabi shouting at the top of her voice, “This man promised to marry me after impregnating me and I had to drop out of high school,” while pointing an accusing finger at Mr. Yego? And parading the small boy or girl for people not to miss his or her resemblance to his or her father?
I’m sure you’d like such a story very much. I know you’d want not just to read about a happy wedding, but also a happy marriage where the wife loves her husband dedicatedly and the husband, in turn, adores his wife.
You wouldn’t, of course, want to miss the part where this particular wife has to deal with gnawing trust issues. Where the husband encourages her to bare herself to him, convincing her that she can trust him. You’ll love the part where the wife sheds her fears and allows herself to be vulnerable with her husband. The bond that will develop after she sheds her perfection and allows her husband to see her imperfections will sure get to you. A bond so deep will develop between husband and wife and this will blossom into a connection that will be hard to break. This story will read well only if the husband keeps his word and the wife convinces him to open up to her as well. We will by now have discovered that this marriage thing is a two-way street.
So you’ll have a couple whose lives are full of love for each other and who trust each other unreservedly. It will impress you how they are able to be vulnerable with one another. It’s a good story when a man like Mr. Yego encourages his Mrs. to open up to him because he wants to know her better. It’s even a better story when he goes out of his way to earn her trust.
It is a good story when a wife like Mrs. Yego, feels comfortable enough to shed her perfect parts and is willing to bare her raw self to her husband. It is an even better story when the husband, seeing that it wasn’t easy for the wife to trust him, works hard each day to ensure he never betrays the trust bestowed upon him. It’s a good story when the husband knows that his wife needs him to protect her vulnerability, and makes it his mission not to hurt her.
You’d like such a story to include a part where the couple have a child or a few children, I bet. The perfect number of children would be two for you maybe? A boy and a girl? And when the children come, the couple’s sex life would not be affected? And even if it was, the husband would be so understanding about having to go for weeks without his conjugal rights. And he would look the other way when temptation knocks in the form of slay queens batting their eyelids, winking at him and stroking his arm while complementing his strength with questions like, “Do you gym?”
In this story, your Mr. Yego would not mind his wife’s neglected appearance because, and he’d reiterate, he’d love her for her brains and inner beauty. Looks wouldn’t matter much to him, and that’s why when he’d be attacked by winks and unwarranted blown kisses, he would not be wishing that the Mrs still had some fire in her.
They’d be happy with each other. Putting up with each other’s quirks uncomplainingly. Asking nothing more of each other than what they already have.
Sometimes, in spite of yourself, you just want to read, and write, that they lived happily ever after.