Why we have many pregnancies

“That woman still loves you Dre,” said Madam Ruth. “In fact she chose this school because of you.” Everyone jeered at me as she said this and although I tried not to, I couldn’t avoid blushing. ILLUSTRATION | JOHN NYAGAH

What you need to know:

  • Although he had not paid, we allowed Saphire to join us for lunch that day, as Kuya and Bensouda were not around. The other reason we allowed him was because only he could ask the expectant teachers some tough questions.
  • “It is true Saph,” said Madam Ruth, smiling cheekily. “We never planned anything and until last week, I thought I was the only one expectant.” Sella also chipped in, sheepishly smiling. “Getting a baby was one of my New Year’s resolutions,” she said.
  • “And you will agree that with Wafula, my life will be much better than if I had fallen for Saphire or Kuya.” “Maybe Sapphire,” said Lena. “Kuya ni wa Nzomo. And I think she is also expecting! She told me yesterday”

With a majority of the teachers here expectant, one would expect the staffroom not to be full on most days, and to be generally quiet. I, therefore, hoped that there would be plenty of lunch left for some of us, as one would expect the appetite of the few expectant teachers who show up to be low.

Well, that is almost happening. Except on two days: Terrific Tuesday ad Sumptuous Thursdays. On these days, the staffroom is as full as always, and on those two days, our expectant teachers are always in the staffroom quite early, eagerly waiting for food, which they take with astonishing dedication.

As you may remember, two weeks ago, I had pulled out of the staffroom lunch club and decided to start taking lunch as an independent. In protest, I had also “lefted” all staffroom WhatsApp groups. I had been sure that would be a great loss to the staffroom as I am usually the source of all jokes on the groups; jokes that are usually sent to me while still hot by my brother Pius from Nairobi.

As such, a few days later, Bensouda held reconciliatory talks with me asking me to consider my stance on doing things independently. After much soul searching, internal deliberations and consultations with my friends and particularly my mentor, I decided to get back to the WhatsApp groups, and also rejoined the lunch club.

I officially rejoined the lunch last Monday, but as you know, there is nothing to write home about Ugali-Sukuma, however good a writer you are! The real day to look forward to was Terrific Tuesday. The big day of chicken. It is on this day that I expected to tawala in the staffroom given that Bensouda and Kwame were not around, and also the fact that the expectant teachers would not be interested in chicken. How wrong I was.

Half an hour to lunch time, when the aroma of chicken kicked me out of the classroom to the staffroom, I found Mrs Atika, Madam Ruth, Lena and Sella, all seated, waiting for lunch.

CONFESSION TIME

“Huyu mtoto wangu anapenda kuku sana,” said Mrs Atika. “I don’t know how the baby knew that the chicken had been slaughtered, it has been turning and kicking ever since, as if it wants to come out and eat the chicken.”

“The same is also happening to me,” said Lena. “My cravings are on chicken and beef-chapati.” She added that the new lunch club had come at an appropriate time and “while I am not a big fan of food, expect me to be in school every Tuesday and Thursday. But it’s not me. It’s the baby.”

Even Sella, who was having a difficult first “semester” was there.

“I throw up everything I eat, except chicken,” she said. “In fact, if I want anything to stay in my body, I have to ensure I accompany it with chicken, or at least chicken soup.” By now the food was being served.

She told us that even her breakfast was composed of bread and chicken soup. “If Wafula had any doubts he is the father of the baby, he can’t question anymore.” Wafula is a junior officer at the county, until recently a poor and struggling civil servant. His fortunes began to change two years ago and he has since built a good house and is on a land-buying spree. He is known to have another wife but that is not a story to bring up with Sella around.

Although he had not paid, we allowed Saphire to join us for lunch that day, as Kuya and Bensouda were not around. It was also a subtle way of inviting him to the club, and also, one needed no calculator to know that Saphire would only join if it were free. The other reason we allowed him was because only he could ask the expectant teachers some tough questions.

“But you ladies, tuseme tu ukweli,” he started. “It is not possible that you all came here and found yourselves all pregnant. I can’t buy such a story.”

“It is true Saph,” said Madam Ruth, smiling cheekily. “We never planned anything and until last week, I thought I was the only one expectant.”

Sella also chipped in, sheepishly smiling. “Getting a baby was one of my New Year’s resolutions,” she said. “The only thing that was missing was a man and since the men in this staffroom are slow, I could not say no to Wafula when he asked me,” she added, causing loud laughter.

“And you will agree that with Wafula, my life will be much better than if I had fallen for Saphire or Kuya.”

“Maybe Sapphire,” said Lena. “Kuya ni wa Nzomo. And I think she is also expecting! She told me yesterday”

“You people are not serious!” I said. “This thing was planned.”

“I don’t know if it was planned, but she told me yesterday, and please don’t tell anyone as it was a private conversation.”

HUSBANDS OF MWISHO WA LAMI

“I think I know how and where this was planned,” said Saphire, “About a month ago, I met Wafula, Kuya, Mr Atika and Juma at Cosmos Bar.” Juma is Madam Ruth’s husband.

“I do not think that meeting was a coincidence, these men were planning something and we can now see the results.”

The ladies vehemently denied this but when we asked them if their husbands knew each other they said yes.

“All of us and our husbands are in a merry-go-round and that is how our hubbies met,” said Lena.

“I am sure your husbands belong to an association called Husbands of Mwisho wa Lami School Teachers (HoMWaT),” I said, causing laughter in the staffroom.

“Let me say the truth,” said Mrs Atika, the oldest and the one most likely to be truthful. “Last term was a difficult one for us women,” she said. “Madam Catherina who was the acting headmistress hated us. She even one day called us for a meeting and said that we were all useless as she did not see what we do in this school.”

“Yes, Catherina loved only men and she thought we would snatch Dre from her,” said Sella.

“No! No!” I exclaimed. “I closed Catherina’s chapter many years ago. I have my Fiolina and I am satisfied with her very much!”

“That woman still loves you Dre,” said Madam Ruth. “In fact she chose this school because of you.” Everyone cheered at me as she said this and although I tried not to, I couldn’t avoid blushing.

“Anyway, to cut a long story short, since Catherina considered us useless, we decided to all get pregnant so that we can all go on maternity leave together and only then would she realise how useful we are!”

“But Catherina won’t be there when you people are on maternity leave,” said Erick, who had just arrived.

“That is the worst part, the punishment was meant for Catherina but it looks like Bensouda and Dre here will be the victims,” said Sella,

“And how did you convince your husbands?” I asked. “None of them said no?”

“Dre you have many jokes,” said Mrs Atika. “Do men need any convincing for that?”