My boyfriend likes playing games. He plays Chess. He plays PUBG. He plays Monopoly. He plays FIFA.
And best of all, he plays me.
Not in the cheating-kind of way.
No. His game with me is way worse to my heart.
I suspect he has me all figured out.
The good thing about all of this? He is a really good player.
The bad thing? I am not.
But that’s a story for another day. Today, I feel like talking about one particular game that I am actually good at.
You see, about twenty-something years ago, some married couple with four kids, two of them twins, decided to make me. Perhaps it was during their date night, or maybe they were just bored and there was nothing else to do with their time.
Anyway, they made me, and here I am, twenty-something years later, alive, and thinking about how I am going to win at this game called life.
I have always wanted a nice job. But who doesn’t? A nice job equals, a nice husband, equals nice children, equals a nice life.
That has been my mission in life. That is the reason I got all those good marks in Primary school, those good grades in High school and that is the reason I am currently in Juja, a to-be graduate of Computer Science.
Somewhere along the way, however, I discovered that I did not want a nice life.
You know, the kind that you have a nice paying 9-5 internship at Westy. A nice internship that would probably lead to a nice job with a nice employer (who “coincidentally” knows your mother from somewhere) and nice colleagues that pretend to like you and who you pretend to like.
The job will be nice enough, even though silently, you will hate it. The only escape will be Fridays, where you open a nice bottle of whiskey, pour it in your nice glass, hit up your best friends and go to a nice club.
It will be a nice enough night for a break, but the next morning won’t be. The Saturday hangover will set in, and you will spend the day recovering from that.
Sunday will come quick. Sunday always comes quick, and you will try tidying up your nice place, probably call Mama Fua and then, you will start preparing for your nice internship the next morning.
If you are lucky, you will meet a boy( or a girl), and you will think you are in love. His goals will line up with yours, and you will go on to have a nice relationship, void of any arguments because come on, you are rational people, aren’t you?
He will propose, probably after three uneventful nice years, and you will say yes, because, is this not what you always wanted?
He will take you back to his home, maybe in Kiambu, and you will take him to your mother in Kakamega. She will immediately like him.
You will get married at a nice Catholic Church ceremony, and all your relatives and his will say you are the best match they have ever seen.
The next year, his mother will ask where her grandkids are at, jokingly of course, but you will joke back, wishing that the missing period is an indication of good news.
You will give birth after two years, your first nice child, and you will love her. Not because she is yours, but because you have done it all.
You have a nice job, a nice husband, and now a nice child. A nice life.
But will you be happy then?
If you will be, then good for you. Go ahead and have that nice life.
For me though, for me, I want a spectacular life.
I want to actually win at this game. Not be an average player in the field, in a pool with other average players with nice lives.
I want to be the way my boyfriend is with his games, always striving to be the best, because, why play when you don’t want to be the best?
Why live a nice life when you can have a spectacular one?
Pardon me, but it doesn’t make any sense to me. Perhaps it is the romantic in me, perhaps it is the child in me.
But I want to live my life like I am actually living. I want to get drunk at eight on a Monday morning, and then work my ass off on a Friday evening.
I want to see my friends when I want to see them, not just see them during the weekend because that is the time society has set aside for us to socialize.
I want to wake up at 2 in the afternoon and sleep at four in the morning.
I want to have breakfast at midnight and supper in the morning.
I want to pick up a book on a random Tuesday afternoon and not stop till I finish it.
And best of all, I want to write.
I want to write sensational things, revolutionary things, romantic things.
I want to live a spectacularly amazing life with no regard for societal pressures.
Goddamn it, I want to actually win at this game called life.
What about you? Don’t you want the same for yourself?