You can’t have a female friend, let alone a female best friend. They say. It is like keeping chicken as a pet, in the long run, you are going to eat it. They say. Our forefathers even had a saying for it. A man who hangs around a beautiful girl without saying a word ends up fetching water for guests at her wedding.
Well, I have a confession. I have a female best friend. For the last 8 years.
Sometime back in 2011, towards the end of September, I joined campus. The first person I met was a senior student. I asked him for directions to my hostel, he said such a hostel didn’t exist in Maseno. I looked at him hard, and looked at the admission form in which my hostel was printed harder. Then back to him. Was he saying the administration didn’t know the university didn’t have hostels by the name New Sunrise? I became more confused.
The second person I met, by chance, was a former mate in high school. I didn’t like him much, because he wasn’t a fan of football or cartoons. Though the main reason (which came much later) I didn’t like him was because he was good at scouting big breasted women, and a lousy wingman. He kept all the big breasted women to himself! Imagine! But if I was going to survive in this jungle where people pretended that things that existed didn’t exist, then I had to do with the devil I knew. He is the one who let me know that the New Sunrise hostel I was looking for was known as Tsunami around there. He is also the one who hooked me up with a coursemate who would let me copy paste her assignment that was due the following day. I had reported three weeks late. You see? Better the devil who keeps all the big breasted women to himself…
The third person I met would turn out to be my best friend. Though she was meant to be a blind date. When I told a high school friend that I had been admitted to Maseno, he lied that he had a cousin there he could hook me up with. He texted me her number. Back then, screenshots had not been invented, and it was safe to text your crushes coz the texts wouldn’t find themselves on Kilimani Mums. So I texted her, asking if we could meet up. She replied with her room number.
Don’t hold your breath. Nothing happened. I didn’t know how to initiate peace talks. But we had something to talk about- her (real) cousin who interned at our faculty who had harassed and scared me shitless when I had gone to register for my course earlier in the day. He was dating her roommate. She had been his wingman. It was at that point that I knew I wasn’t going to ruin such a good opportunity to get a wingman who was excellent at her job. I had to choose between a girlfriend and a wingman. I chose wingman. Girlfriends come and go, but a wingman stays with you forever. It is somewhere in the good book, look it up.
If you are wondering how many lays my wingman brought my way, none. Zilch. Zero.
Instead, she was a reverse wingman. Kept the ladies away.
Which turned out to be a good thing. Because you never get decent weekend lays in campus if you aren’t dating. They are always sort of messed up- some just a little bit messed up, others Nairobi-river kind of messed up.
You would get yourself a lay, agree that she would come over during the weekend, or after class. Then best friend would turn up (she always turned up), call you “aswito” and give you those hugs that make your eyes disappear at the back of your head. The time would come, you would text your lay if she was coming over. You would wait for 30 minutes. No reply. Follow it up with a “hey”, and another “hey” before finally getting a reply… “ushachoka na Annie ama ni nini unanisumbulia?” Nothing ever prepares you for that reply. Nothing! You would sit there with your blue balls, wondering which ancestor wasn’t happy with the amount of libation you had poured.
After some time, it became useless to try and get weekend lays. Because all ladies have this database in their heads of who is dating who (both real and imaginary). You will be there shooting your shot and then boom, you have to explain who Sheryl is to you and why you were seen talking to her in 2005. That’s why most campus guys go for ‘imports.’
Moral of the story: having a female best friend will keep you from hooking up with messed up women, and sometimes, cheating on your girlfriend.
I could go on how many times she has come through in the last eight years, but it would sound like I’m bragging. And you know what happens when a Luo starts bragging.
And no, she is not subject to the “keeping chicken as a pet” theory. Rules have exceptions.
Also, I have no plans of fetching water at anybody’s wedding (coz I hate weddings and I only attend the reception, if I can’t avoid it altogether)