Four months after 15 million bob wedding, couple wants split…what the devil?

Murugi married Sylvester four months ago in a wedding ceremony that cost at least 15 million bob. The chef was flown in from Hotel Regina Louvre, one of the finest in Paris. He brought with him vintage wines, including a 150-year-old bottle of Chateau Latife 1865 brand that cost Sh2.5 million.

Décor was done by an Italian designer who shipped in most of the materials, including helium balloons, from Turin. The wedding rings were original Jeff Cooper made out of pure silver and enhanced with diamonds.

I know all this because Murugi is my niece. She is my younger brother’s first born and I’ve always been her favourite uncle. Her father played a drunken tumble with some girl he picked from a club and nine months later, he added a ‘grand’ to our parents’ names.

They are the only ones whose noses seemed impervious to the stench manufactured by days of sour relations between my person and water.

My brother had just finished his A-levels so I fully understood why he went into hiding when the baby was brought over by the girl’s clan.

As the eldest son, I received the child on behalf of my estranged sibling before handing the responsibility of raising her to our mother. Since then, a powerful bond of father-daughter was established between the pretty baby and I.

My brother eventually got a good job at a local cooperative society and repossessed his grown sperm from our parents.

He also happened to get rich at a time raising five cents for a tin of muratina was a daily struggle for me. But he was a good brother, still is. I would go to borrow a few coins from him when thirst hit desperate levels and the little girl –and him–were, perhaps, the only people who didn’t seem to mind my worn out clothes or the torn shoes.

They are the only ones whose noses seemed impervious to the stench manufactured by days of sour relations between my person and water.

Murugi’s step-mother was something else though. She made me take off what was left of my shoes at the gate. Even the watchman looked down on me, sometimes refusing to open the gate until my brother was almost due from the office. Looking back, it convinces me that there is something really wrong with small people, but we’ll talk about that too some other time.

Here comes the groom…

My niece grew up into a lovely, intelligent woman with a heart as fine as her father’s. She got a job at a local airline after completing university, courtesy of a phone call from me. I suppose this is where she met him. He is the image of a male model. The dark, tall and handsome line I hear thrown around? That’s him. A really dashing young man. Ladies and gentlemen, meet David Sylvester…!

Catastrophically daft name, was my first impression. Fellow was actually quite mad when I pointed that fact out on our first meeting. Guess that’s why we don’t like each other much…that and the fact that I might have confessed to his mother Nyokabi that he has a daft feel around his person too.

She was not amused either. Said that is not something to tell potential in-laws. I said I was merely looking ahead in case a need to apportion blame arises when tiny bundles of daftness start streaming in. I don’t think she got my point but it really doesn’t matter.

Sylvester is so well groomed he’s almost delicate. And he looks rich. That has a lot to do with the fact that he is the son of one of the wealthiest women in the country.

She is a nice woman, his mother, I think, but her limited interaction with books sometimes radiates off her like heat off a hot iron. But she is an astounding businesswoman. I should know because I have done a few deals with her.

Loves her kids too, Sylvester and three girls. Nyokabi has given them everything that her vast wealth can acquire –apart from a father. Like many single mothers though, she has been patting her back, very loudly, that she has been a very successful father-mother to her kids.

Nothing but books

She does not shy from encouraging unmarried women to ‘not bother’ with extra baggage of a man if they can fed for their tots. She has also accelerated the deaths of a number of marriages by nudging towards the exit women too naïve to follow her counsel.

She means well, but as I said, there are some leaks of idiocy in each person that can only be plugged by books. The more pages you ingest, the tighter the plug.

DISCLAIMER: Sometimes, the screws are overwhelmed by sheer volume of ‘stupid’ one is born with –irrespective of amount of literal reinforcement.

Anyways, after a wedding that cost the same as an apartment I built in Kamangu recently, the acre piece of land included, the union between Nyokabi’s son and my niece has come to an abrupt end. I bet the tires on the plane that landed them from a two-month honeymoon in the Maldives are still smoking. I mean, four months and they are already in court seeking a legal separation!

I’m meeting my niece on Saturday and even though I have my suspicions what the matter here is, I’ll sip the cold Pilsner as I listen to her explanation. I’ll be back in a few days with the story, if it will be worth our, but especially, my while.

No idea who this Baba Mwende is? Find out here