Don’t ask me about getting hitched

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STEAMING IT OFF

THE past few weeks have been rather hectic for yours truly.

First I had to grapple with the idea of getting old, then the rest just snowballed from there and, as they say, all hell broke loose.

I recently celebrated an age that makes me quite near being the calendar’s mate and that is rather scary and annoying too.

I personally can deal with emotions.

You see, at this age you get asked some really annoying and very irritating questions (I know there are a lot of folks out there who are in the same boat): “U nyala/nyaloa neng?

First of all, who gave you the idea that I might actually want to get married ey?

What am I doing that makes you feel that I am now “ripe” for the picking by some suitor?

What if my goal is to — when I have been there, done that and . . . —  take an entirely different route and become a nun?

This question is asked by all “nosy-parkers”, family, friends and bo-ntŝunyakhare – married, single and otherwise.

Honestly, there is absolutely nothing wrong with thinking about getting hitched.

Visualising and imagining yourself on your wedding day with your “soul mate”, all glowing and happy, is not wrong at all!

It actually shows a healthy mind — looking into a blissful, bright future (though we all know that some people marry for entirely different reasons and under different circumstances).

However, making it THE sole priority is indeed SICK!

Look, I know that marriage and kids (which is another frequently asked question) are very vital and important, but really, now, STOP bugging me about them!

There is a joke I really like about a guy who got tired of being asked over and over again at family weddings when it would be his turn.

The questions stopped really fast when he came up with a novel idea of asking “when is your turn?” at family funerals!

I think I will start doing that to get some folks off my back once and for all.

This is for me and the rest of those who do realise marriage (and kids) may be important but does not define the person I turn out to be and should not be made the sole purpose of my existence.

Being a lifeboat does not mean a person is terminally ill with some incurable disease; it is rectifiable, if the individual wants to rectify it.

We stand up right now and demand you stop the incessant interrogation.

Time may or may not come. Let nature take her course and let us breathe! Bathong!

 That got my whisker rigid for a while.

Then I scared myself boneless with thoughts about death.

Old age = death, right? (No offence intended to my elders).

Truth be told, I am not scared of closing my eyes to eternal darkness, neither am I scared of the “afterlife”.

The notion of my sins pitching me into a pit of eternal, raging flames or my good deeds affording me the blessing and soothing warmth of Our Lord’s embrace do not faze me as much.

I am terrified of being forgotten. There,I said it!

Then as if this was all planned, the King of Pop moonwalked out of this millennium with much fanfare involved.

His death was and still is big news. Rest in Peace Michael Jackson.

Eish, that got the panic button going and the shrilly sirens started screaming, with the backlight in flashing red!

We all know a few millennia from now Wacko Jacko’s name will still somehow get mentioned.

And I am realistic enough to accept and know as a fact that it is next to impossible that it could ever happen like that for little-ol-me — so I stress about those surrounding me, not the world!

The questions that fill my head scare me and my heartbeat is constantly very fast. Things like how is everyone going to remember me? As a girl/woman who . . . (fill in the blanks).

I realised I was actually killing myself with all this worrying. And finally came to an important conclusion: do not take life (yours and others) for granted. Live a fulfilling life which will leave worthy memories for those you will one day leave behind.

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