For women out there thinking of getting capital from your boyfriends or husband, I salute you. You are the reason the women’s movement lost its cause.
You meet this angelic girl with an innocent face and a body package that makes men drop their jaws. You befriend her, thinking she could make a good companion. You dine and wine in places your pocket can afford. You have been on 12 dates and she hasn’t even teased about her paying the bill. She takes that coffee for granted. “Find me at Café Pap,” Aisha often suggests. You turn up and pick the bill.
During your getting-to-know-each other sessions, you told her about your work place, the car you ordered from Japan, and told her about your plot in Mbalwa, Namugongo.
In return, she told you about her pending tuition, sick mother, rent dues, and a friend’s wedding that she will miss because she has no dress. She calls that opening up to you.
When it is not her snags, she talks about women emancipation, independence, woman of substance, and how well she wants to live her life.
So Aisha asks that you take her to your place, apparently you do not love her enough if you have not showed her your crib. But then, she forgets her lip balm in your bedroom the first day. Next time it is the wig, or her shoes. She starts dropping by without calling you.
Then, she tells you about the ugly old landlord who hates her because she “refused” him and how he wants to throw her out of the house to embarrass her because of that.
“Can we pay the landlord for a month as we sort the problem out?” you ask. She swears she never wants to see the stupid landlord again, because he even attempted to rape her. Girls, where do you get such glossy lies from?
As a man, you look for options to stop the drama. You think about getting her another house, but you settle for her spending some time with you as you resolve the impasse. (This has usually turned out into marriage).
After Aisha moves in, you fear she would bring all her property to congest your house. Fortunately, she only comes with two bags of her belongings, explaining that her things are safe with her best friend somewhere in Ntinda. You are happy with that.
A week turns into months. Soon, a baby arrives. The “things” at the friend’s place never come – after all you have now bought everything she wants. Then one day, she picks a small fight. “Why do you return home late?” How do you prefer watching World Cup with friends and not your “wife”? Yes, she refers to herself as your wife now. Never mind that you watched the entire season of the Champions League without her, but she had just moved in.
Well, she tells you that she is fed up and wants out. You plead with her, but she does not relent. To stop the debate, you reluctantly tell her: “If you want, it is okay to go”. Again, she is more hurt that you can dare tell her to go and do not get on your knees to beg her to stay. The next morning, the fight is not on your mind, so you leave for work.
Aisha, however, calls in a Fuso truck to pack her belongings. And instead of the two bags she came with, she packs everything in the house.
In the evening when you return home with pizza because that is what your Aisha craves whenever she is in a bad mood, you instead find the door ajar. You have been robbed! She is gone! Either Aisha went with your property, or, she stole your property.
So, if she is not a thief, why go with the property? Your property!
Feminists and women rights advocates may call it something else, but a woman who packs property she found in a house, property she has no receipts for, is a thief. A thief with a well thought-out strategy!