Monday marked the start of yet another school term and save for the privileged few, many parents didn’t exactly jubilate. School fees and all those other school requirements are not something many people smile about and that includes Jane. Money is a touchy subject in our household and we cry more for the lack of it than we celebrate having it. My money (salary) is far spent and so is Jane’s, or so she claims.

And since we’re the only two people who work around here, I guess that means we’re headed for tough times. Jane gets cranky when broke and this week hasn’t been any different. She will pick on anything and anyone and will make a big deal out of the smallest issue. I remember on Saturday, a neighbour sent Dennis to buy sugar at a shop a few meters away, a simple task if you ask me.

A few minutes later, Jane wanted Dennis; I’m not sure for what, only to be told he had gone to the shops. She went off, asking how a neighbour could have the guts to send her son.

When Dennis returned, she called him to her room and beat him up for close to 10 minutes, telling him he should go live with the neighbours if he loved them enough to run errands for them. I found that strange and felt she should have talked to the said neighbour and told him she doesn’t like her son being sent around, instead of beating the poor boy for what I believe is something many children in Africa do, given our culture where it is widely held that a child belongs to the community.

Then there’s also my sleeping arrangement which Jane doesn’t seem to like. A few weeks ago, I decided to sleep on the couch, (which is really more an old drab stretch chair than a couch). I did this because, one, our bedroom is congested, with up to five people at a time so I really couldn’t take the stuffy air and lack of privacy any more.

Secondly, there’re all sorts of creepy insects, bedbugs, cockroaches and what must be the biggest rats in the world. I happen to "fear” rats and cockroaches and the bedbugs couldn’t let me get a good night’s sleep.

So I decided to move to the couch. When Jane learnt I was sleeping there, she asked why and I gave her my reasons. Of course I didn’t say anything about the many people in the room because she would then suggest I move out, which I’m not ready to do now. I just mentioned the bedbugs and she scoffed, though she didn’t ask me to go back to the room, thankfully.

The biggest challenge is that I can’t sleep late, say over the weekend or on a public holiday, and I can only go to bed after everyone else has left the living room.

The one time I overslept, I heard Jane’s unmistakable sigh that seemed to say "get your sleepy self off my couch.” From that time, I’ve made sure I get up early before everyone else. The other challenge to my sleeping arrangement is when we get visitors late at night.

They will stay up talking for hours, which means I can’t sleep until they’ve left. Spencer also chooses the oddest hours to visit and he too likes to stay long. Recently, he bought (or borrowed) a laptop and comes along with it.

He then proceeds to play movies and music at the highest volume and after 12 or so hours at the restaurant, the last thing I need is noise. But I can’t say anything, so I sit through it until he decides we’ve heard enough and goes to his own house. What a life? What a struggle?

To be continued…