White people fascinate me. I especially like the way they talk and I don’t how many times I’ve pictured a blonde blue-eyed Sophie. Blame the hundreds of Mill & Boon I read as a teenager that almost always portrayed these people as gods and goddesses. I do meet Whites occasionally and each time, I just can’t help noticing these little things about them. Early this week, I stopped at a friend’s house for a long overdue visit. On my way home, a car stopped but I just walked on, thinking that whoever it was had probably only stopped to answer a call. Then I heard the honking and when I looked back, a White guy was waving. Since there was no one else around, it was clear he was waving at me. I walked back to the car, against my better judgement I must say. The Mzungu lowered his window and I held my breath. When I didn’t see a gun or anything suspicious, I relaxed a little. “Hi Ma’am, sorry to bother you but I need your help,” he said. I wondered what he was really up to but soon learnt that all he wanted was to know if there were any traffic policemen along the main road.Almost immediately, I reckoned he’d been drinking and so was worried he might be arrested. I wasn’t much help though. I’m usually keen about my surroundings but that night, I just hadn’t paid attention. I told the Mzungu that much and he asked what had been distracting me. I said I’d just been caught up in my thoughts. I asked why he was drinking and driving. He must have been irked by my question because he immediately asked why I don’t drink. Sensing the sarcasm, I told him I just don’t drink. He didn’t seem to believe me but dropped the subject. Five or so minutes of stale but still funny jokes later, he asked if I drive, implying that he wanted me to drive. Since I don’t, I suggested he calls a friend. He had a faster, if not better suggestion. He would take an alternate route to avoid a run-in with the police. Our encounter ended with him urging me to loosen up a little and ‘enjoy’ life and me advising him to stop drinking, especially when he plans to drive. Then on Wednesday, while at the bank, I saw a White couple. The guy was holding the baby and just by his posture, I could bet on who wears the pants in that relationship. The wife was making all the inquiries about their accounts, transfers they were expecting etc. Don’t get me wrong, I like guys who do what they can to help their partners and spend time with their kids but something about the way this man was sitting quietly by his wife, pacifying the baby, made me wonder if he’s not doing that because it’s the wife who brings home the bacon. Later that evening, I was intrigued by yet another group of Whites. Two of them were holding hands and the third one, a lady, was walking a few steps behind them. I heard her bidding them farewell and that old adage “Three’s a crowd” came to mind. I felt bad for her as the couple seemed too caught up in each other to notice their friend’s departure. I crossed the road and got on the bus only to see the couple I’d just left on the opposite side of the road embracing and kissing passionately, right there on the street. I closed my eyes for a few seconds and re-opened them just to make sure. It was as real as it gets. Other commuters were also looking on in disbelief, with a few cheeky ones whistling and urging the couple to keep going. I’m totally against PDA and don’t even want my guy to hold my hand in public so I took my hat off for this couple. To be continued...
