INDEED, NOWHERE COOL

London frolicked from one slippery beach-rock to the other, donning a retro "grandfather's hat" to shield her already sun-burned face. "The devil must be on duty today", she thought, as she struggled to take her mind off her frustrations with men. London had been around a bit, trying to find every girl's dream; a good man, happy family and comfortable home.

Nairobi was London's first love and idea of an ideal husband; funny, well established, ok-looking, lover of kids, just perfect! She even had a mental image of their home situation; like "Tubani" for lunch on Saturday afternoons and "abro ne nkati3 for snacks". Even though Nairobi had messed up and subsequently lost interest in their relationship, London just couldn't place a finger on what exactly it was about him that had her trying countless times to reignite their dead past. Maybe his sense of humor and job security did it for him, otherwise, the Sex was a grade "E", Care and Attention- F, Gifts and Compliments - F, Looks - E, Temper - the least said the better.

Whilst struggling to figure Nairobi out, London met Kuwait; a sweet, gentle, loving and affectionate soul. They'd talk on the phone for hours, fantasizing and musing about their lives together. Their thoughts and minds were in complete sync; before he'd think up something to say, she'd blurt it out. He made her his mission in life, even of the most trivial of matters, like when he realized she was naturally hairless on the legs. He researched it, lectured her and got her the kinds of moisturizers prescribed by dermatologists to stay hydrated. Even though their love had generated so much controversies when it came to light, they nonetheless fell deeply and uncontrollably in love, growing stronger by the passing of each controversy. However, their beautiful fairy tale love story came to an abrupt end when Kuwait found London to be six years older. He was visibly shaken and devastated by the discovery, yet he allowed his pride, arrogance and myopic mindedness get the better part of him, just like Donald Trump and Kim Jong-un does.

Then there was Kuala Lumpur; my goodness! Kal, like she affectionately called him, loved her unconditionally! He was the true definition of "find you a man that loves you more than you love him". He loved her so much that, he risked his life on several occasions for her. Like when she taught she was being followed home one night by an unknown driver and he made sure to get to her place before she did. However, when London's reaction to Kal getting another woman pregnant was opposite his predictions of aggression, hostility and threats, Kal began to have second thoughts about London's loyalty to him. Believing she had her feelings invested in another man, his delusions developed into an over-possessive and compulsive attitude of stalking, spying and verbal abuse. That was London's cue to break Usian Bolt's professional running record and save her life!  

Thereafter, there was Brazzaville. Everything surrounding their meeting and eventual relationship was directly opposite London's ideologies; an initial blind date and a controlling, domineering and judgmental attitude. London had planned to have him as a distraction from her previous interwoven love chronicles for a while. But before she knew it, she was smitten-ed. She'd often remind herself it was just a transfer of emotions from her previous experiences; but the emotions just kept intensifying like the "one corner" song and dance of the day. Now, as Azza's male chauvinistic attitude keeps interfering with their blossoming relationship, with Azza making comments like "Madam, you better not be trying to argue with me", London is saddled with dozens of questions. Is she just being an overbearing modern "I-Know-My-Rights" woman? Or is this her cue to leave? But leave to who? What baggage does he also come with?

True, there really is no perfect man or woman out there, just a bunch of 21st century descendants of Adam and Eve, struggling to survive in a highly competitive and technologically advanced ecosystem. But is this reason enough to allow one's self to be turned into a domestic punch and kick bag for aspiring Bukom boxers?