Oh glory! My 10-year-old brother is getting married.
Well, yes, but no, not really. Digory turned 26 on Monday, but it doesn’t matter what his birth certificate and weight say about him. He’s still a kid in my head.
Yesterday had a meeting to prepare for his kwanjula. It was very well attended and quite successful. People were willing to empty their pockets and offer their donkeys for the child. By the time we were done, we had everything we needed to get him a wife from Maganjo.
Everything went well until the conversation turned to me.
“So, Tumwijuke, when are you inviting us to organize your wedding?”
“That guy you were dating last year, I didn’t see him in the meeting. You mean you failed to hold on to yet another man?”
“You’re like what, a decade older than Digory? Wow, this must be hard on you, no?”
“Tumwijuke, don’t wait too long. It’s true that wisdom comes with age, but children don’t.”
“Mbu you’ve adopted, Philly Bongole’s “Alone and Frightened” as your theme tune.”
Usually, I would have taken the snide comments in stride. After all, it wasn’t the first time I was hearing them. A year ago, Paulo (my other brother who is 29 going on 45) also decided to get hitched. But this time, it was different.
You see, ever month I gorge myself on The Devil’s Literature. I spend a ridiculous amount of money on glossy magazines to read about Ten Trends You Must Wear Before You Die; about How to Eat All You Want and Stay Thin; about Giving Oral Sex in Less than Three Minutes.
This month, it seems all the glossies were dedicated to youth – or the irony of it. They all boasting about how 40 is the new 20 and how you can still look as fabulous as Vanessa Williams when you are her age. There are numerous articles about being sexy during menopause and learning to date younger men.
I enjoyed reading about how Diane Keaton and Hellen Miren are among the top five sexiest women in the world. And that Candice Bergen gets hotter as she gets older. The magazines contained great pieces about how to glory in aging and how to maintain a youthful spirit.
But all that was spoilt by numerous anti-aging, anti-wrinkle, anti-spoting, anti-life ads.
How am I supposed to maintain a balanced decent existence with so much contradiction being fed to me? What am I supposed to be exactly – Gloriously Older or Preternaturally Preserved?
It doesn’t help that one of the girls I went to college with is looking absolutely fabulous on the cover of Kenya’s True Love this month. As much as I want to hate her and bitch about the shoes she wore in college, I must admit that Esther Mbondo looks divine!
Chichi (as we used to call her for some really obscure reason) is beautiful and confident. She has just won back-to-back awards for her work, has a beautiful child and a progressive husband. And she doesn’t look a day past 21.
Oh well. I figure I can’t have it all. I can’t be witty and pretty at the same time.
The really clever are never really stunning.