Maybe

She knows her life is crap. Worse than crap actually. There is no future where she is at right now.

Her job is killing her. Call by call. Meeting by meeting. Form after form. Useless task after another. Death by work. She cries every day at work. Because what she does is neither right nor enough. Ever. That is what the big boss man tells her. He says she is an incompetent bumbling idiot and if she ever thinks she is going to get anywhere on this earth working like this, she must be a fool. She believes she must be more than an imbecile. He must be right. Look at him. He is filthy rich. The write-about-him-in-the-dailies type. Business-mogul label. Give-him-awards kind of man. Billionaire-under fifty or something like that. He sits at the right hand of the business god. Maybe she should go back to school, get her degree, another job.

Her mother is dying. She has been dying for the last 10 years. She wonders why her dad died quickly and her mother has been dying for so long. She misses her dad. Really misses him. Life was good when he was alive. He was a generous and giving man. Look at even how he died. Kindly. No fundraisings for chronic bills. No panicked hospital runs in the middle of the night. No lunchtime dashes to see if mother survived this emergency. Late returns to the office, where the big boss man docks a shilling for every minute she is late. Maybe she ought to put her mother in a convalescence home.

Jack is cheating on her. She knows he is. She just has not caught him. She needs to talk to the IT guy to find out how to put that spying thing on his phone. He complains about everything. There is always a hole in one of the paired socks. The electricity bill is high. The watchman doesn’t open the gate fast enough. The food tastes boiled. She always on FaceBook. Her chama wastes her time. The children are noisy. Maybe she needs to pay more attention to him.

Her kids are maniacs. Jack does not know the whole story. He is not home much now anyway. Last week at the kid’s birthday party, they licked the sugar from the bowls, splashed the guests with water, pummelled an adorable little girl and peed in the jumping castle. They never listen to her. Sometimes she can bribe them. Yes, it is wrong. Doctor Dobson says it’s wrong. He can feel free to come and sort them out. They broke the neighbour’s chandelier and scoured another’s car. She will have to pay for that last one. She is not paying for the chandelier. Children admitted into your houses are done at your own risk. Her wall decor is charcoal kiddie graffiti. Horrible black pictures. She has not returned their teachers calls this week. She can’t. I never went to see her last week after the red note summons in the diary. The teacher can paddle her own canoe. What happens to kids in school stays in school. Kids at home is hard enough. Maybe she needs to take them for counselling.

Her maid is stealing. The red ugly tea set her godmother gave her at the wedding is missing. How does a whole tea set walk off the shelf and out the house? And the jik and omo never last until the end of the month. Maybe she needs to get a stock book system in that house.

Thank God Jack’s parents are dead and he was an only child. At least she only has one set of inept siblings to deal with. Her sister is being evicted. She needs rent. She works. Where does she take her money? Her brother needs her to arrange the bride price thing for next week. He also has no money. Maybe she needs to put boundaries for those two.

She is overwhelmed. She wears the tiara of defeat. It’s the burden that cannot be cast onto the cross. Maybe one day, things will change. Maybe things will never change.

Maybe.

image from http://www.irlandnews.com

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