The sowers of discord

By Bob G. Kisiki

She may herself be the adoring, near chaste wife of a settled husband, but all the men who are having trouble in the neighbourhood would still be happily married, if this woman had never been brought to their village, by their fellow man.

For, sadly, she is the one who has ‘connected’ all their now meandering women to the men who sleep with them, every time the husbands look the other side.

I knew a woman who was the one every man who desired someone else’s wife, but could not get to her himself, approached, and it was a sure deal, she would get those women for the men.

It was said the first case was of a man who had wanted her for himself, but to get him off her case, she said, ‘Why would a man of good taste want a woman like me? Look, there is M’s wife; that’s the woman a guy like you gets and everybody says yes, he’s cheating, but you can’t blame him.’ Many men love a dare like that, and he bit into the bait.

And just like that, she had got the first man another man’s wife for a girlfriend.

At first the men didn’t know what was going on, until one by one, they realised that their women were a lot happier and more productive than they had been in the past. And you know, men do consult on certain things.

So when one man shared with another about his case, the other said why, that’s the same case with mine; and others said yes, mine too, and mine too. Then the research started, and whoever discovered what was going on, found that the trail led them to one homestead:

This particular woman’s. So when they attacked her, she could hardly find one word in her defence.

The other case was of a freelance woman who, after dating a married man for some time, decided it was time she extricated herself from him, and the trick she played was to begin planting prettier, more attractive girls in his way.

The girls would know what exactly was going on, but the guy didn’t, but because he was a committed poacher, he did not disappoint.

After he’d been with one girl for a couple of months, he would find himself with another, and another and yet another, till some men whose girlfriends the kayungirizi lass was using as bait to save her own skin got concerned and busted the cuckolding racket.

Of course nobody can say for certain why a woman  would get a string of other women for a man, or different women for different men, like she was some kind of Madame at a brothel, but like I’ve always said, it’s pointless trying to understand many things about women. If she did it for money, chances are people would say well, times are hard, what should a girl do?

But the kayungirizi women I’ve known are all cases who do it for nothing. Not that doing it for money  would make it right; no. So do these women do it for sport?

Do they feel that if men ‘play’ other women, then someone should pay them in like currency? Or are some of them women who have suffered a similar fate, and are trying to find relief in some form of vengeance?

For, ordinarily, women are not given to this sort of game, save for those who trade in their own flesh, and nobody wants to say those enjoy the sport.

The very fact that they do it under the cover of darkness is enough to tell you they would rather they dealt in something else; something they can put up on a stall in broad daylight and, in a loud and clear voice, call out to passing potential clients, saying: Come, buy and take home.

Kayungirizi women cannot do that, you know.