Said the happily married man to the reader dragged here by clickbait and nosiness. Your intentions notwithstanding, I am glad you're here. Pull up a chair.
I have always been a romantic. I always dreamed of having a beautiful wife, beautiful children, and a big house with a dog. I am halfway there, even though the dog thing is not looking too good. Take a second to cross your fingers with me and pray for the fulfillment of my dreams and yours.
As I got older and reached reproductive age, I enjoyed being single. I remember the first time I learned that the girls in school were just as nervous about social functions as the guys were. It changed my life. This realization took all the pressure out of social situations for me and allowed me to kill the career in stand-up comedy I pursued when I spoke to girls. I didn't have to be funny. I could just be myself.
With renewed confidence and patriarchy on my side, I indulged myself in my 20s. I went on dates, squandered my savings on trips I'll never forget, and experiences I can hardly put in words. And I wouldn't take any of it back, even though that money could have enabled me to tussle it out with the Kampala mafia for slices of Kololo (for my non-Ugandan readers, Kololo is where Selling Sunset Uganda would be filmed) in my early 30s. Instead, the electrician brought us an inverter that doesn't work and UMEME is making me google how to get away with murder on a Sunday afternoon. But don't worry, Kololo, my darling. I am coming.
When I returned to Uganda in 2016, I felt like I needed to make up for lost time. Ugandan women are top 2 and not 2 and this young virile man had returned with muscles and illusions of grandeur. People just assume summers have money. So why let the truth get in the way of a good story?
I told myself I would get married at 35 because my male privilege permits marital clairvoyance. With the marriage card shelved, I played the field like prime Ronaldo (the original one) and won the Champion's League a few times. While moving mad in the streets, I met my future wife. After several long text messages, I was upset. F#*K!!! This was not part of the plan. My lease was not up on the streets. I bought as much time as I could and even tried to self-sabotage a couple of times. However, I soon realized this woman was sent by God, not the streets.
She quietened my anxieties about adulting and recalibrated my future plans. I remember when she asked me when I wanted to get married: "2022?" I said—half question, half answer. She replied: "Who do you think is going to wait for you until then?" This year, we celebrated 3 years of marriage.
I am not a marriage evangelist because I feel like I lucked out. This thing doesn't happen fwa (just anyhow, for my non-Ugandan readers). My gratitude to God and the fates make me cringe when unhappily married aunties badger women about marriage. I cannot think of many things worse than marrying the wrong person, so as much as society and Netflix have you by the neck, wait. Be careful who you say "I do" to.
I know we would like our lives to go exactly as we plan them but in my limited experience, the things that take us by surprise can lead us to a better place than we ever imagined.
So, don't get married...until you are sure. And yes, you'll know when you know (I think).
Have a good week ✌🏾
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That’s when I wear my mischievous smile. Rating this ’good’ would land me in hell’s fire so the best is to tell the truth, you write so well.