Disclaimer: In exact words, he said this to me, “please write this story about my ex, but don’t mention my name coz, if she finds out I wrote about her, she could arrange to have me killed or seriously harmed!”

I went through a cocktail of emotions when she reached out to me about meeting up back in January this year. I was kind of excited and worried at the same time. Why would she want us to meet?

You can’t blame me, though; being with her often felt like I was fidgeting with a grenade. You never know when you might accidentally unplug the pin.

Also read 7 Worrying Signs She’s A Crazy Bitch Who’ll Ruin Your Life

Related: Sad But True, Money Ruined My Relationship

I was having dinner in town with a friend when she called. She didn’t hesitate to ask if we were taking an Uber. I instinctively said, maybe we should try the bus.

I was at a point in life where I was very cautious about how much money I spent on women. Especially her being my ex. In the past, I would cheerfully give her the best of anything she wanted. Yet still, she betrayed me.

We met at the Kencom bus station and boarded a matatu en route to our neighbourhood. Yes, she lived a couple of estates away from mine. The plot was to have her drop her work laptop at home, and then go out for drinks.

On the bus, we did some catching up. The typical her complained about work, life, heat, the government, poor public transport… The typical me gave her my ears accompanied with some reassuring words.

She also couldn’t stop talking about her former host. According to her, she was not only incredibly mean but also emotionally volatile, that she felt like she was walking on landmines.

(When she was starting life in Nairobi, she was offered accommodation by a married friend. Weirdly, the friend’s husband preferred not to live with her; he only visited occasionally. I don’t claim to know much about the dynamics of that marriage, but what was apparent is that it was far from ideal…)

She could have kept at it the rest of the journey had I not interjected by saying, “I believe most men are dysfunctional because their women create a hostile environment at home. It’s the same reason some men prefer to take a detour to the pub from work to ensure they get home very late.”

Then the preacher in me added, “I think for a man to achieve his fullest potential, the home has to be a very psychologically and emotionally positive space.”

Throughout the sermon, she was uncharacteristically silent. I must have touched a nerve because she was staring blankly at the window, obviously infuriated.

“Are you okay”, I asked. It is like my words fell on deaf ears because some more loud silence greeted them.

Our relationship was riddled with such moments. Being a very inquisitive and free-thinking person and her being a staunch Christian and a bit rigid in her thinking meant that we disagreed a lot.

From politics to religion to trivial issues such as whether or not to hang the tissue paper on the toilet tissue holder. In my understanding, these are very common issues that couples fight about, but for some reason, such sparked heated arguments for us.

“Your fare please,” The bus conductor asked. That’s when it hit me that I had not carried any cash. I prefer to use mobile money, and I hardly use public transport…

“Hey, can you pay the fare for both of us since I didn’t carry any cash,” I whispered. Finally turning her away from the window towards me, she said, “Yes, I have the money, but I don’t feel like paying for you.”

Well aware of the smirk beaming on the conductor’s face, I just sat there speechless in embarrassment.

“You are such a spoilt brat, why are you not carrying any cash?” She retorted.
This was not the first though, back then, she used to scold me like a child. Sometimes without regard to who we were with or whether we were in public.

To avoid further embarrassment, I would quickly whisper an apology even if she were on the wrong. Happy wife happy life, right?

Not this time around.

Back when we were together, we had talked like a million times about how to voice issues more civilly. However, every time the rubber hit the road, there were always some ugly skid marks.

I got offended by the fact that she could dare to talk rudely to me in public just because of forty shillings.
“I no longer feel like going out with you, in fact, I don’t think we have much to talk about,” I calmly said.

As I made way for her to pass so that she could alight, she looked pretty worked up. I could care less, though. After she made like five steps, I think she got other ideas. She turned and shouted at me, “Na ulipe hio pesa nimekulipia!!”
All the eyes balls on the bus turned towards us, to catch a glimpse of the unfolding drama.

I wasn’t about to take it lying down either. Neither was I about to go on a shouting match against her – I knew I would lose ten-nil. I just made sure she read my lips that said “Sikutumii!”.

I guess I hadn’t thought everything through, because she suddenly charged at me like a wounded bull. If it were not for the other passengers who intervened, nobody knows how the altercation could have turned out.

“Your woman is crazy,” one of the passengers said when she alighted.

I got home, in a confused state; I contemplated whether or not to send her the forty shillings. Had I not spent a fortune trying to make this taking this daughter of Eve happy?

I decided to sleep on it. The next morning I had a moment of clarity. I sent her exactly fifty shillings. I didn’t want to owe her anything.

A month later she would initiate contact again.

To be continued…