More Than Just A Mistress
By Patience Toge
The burden and responsibility that come with the thought that you will never be anything more than just a mistress, is very huge for these women. The fact that you can only be another women’s best, that you may end up just being a plaything for someone and nothing more, can sometimes be a very difficult thought to bear. Then there is also the society, and the wives of the men these women have to deal with, which in most cases are very unforgiving, judgmental and always ready to condemn them to death, if caught.
At first the slogan that constantly reminded women that there are more women than men, thus they should learn how to share sounded like just a cheap way men wanted to justify their flirtatious and cheating habits, but these days, not only have women become addicted followers, they have actually become the promoters of this slogan.
Each time I have had the opportunity to talk to a fellow woman why she is actually playing the role of a mistress, knowing fully well that the man in question is married and possibly a father, she will simply look at me say; “Am I the first? Don’t you know that we have more women than men? Where do you think the rest of us unmarried women will go to?”
Ndolo, a 35-year-old woman says has never been married before. After three unsuccessful relationships, she decided to engage in a love affair with Kendzeh. Then after a year of dating, she found out one night that he was married and a father of four.
“It was the fourth time the phone had rung that night. So a little disturbed, Ndolo asked her lover why he wasn’t picking his call…”
“You know I love you, don’t you? “Kendzeh asked importantly.
Ndolo could see he was struggling to maintain his composure. “I know you have been through so many heartbreaks, the last thing I want is to hurt you. I don’t want us to begin this New Year with lies. I never told you this before because I was afraid to lose you. So whatever decision you take after this, I will accept it. I love you and I want to be with you.”
“What in God’s name are you talking about? You are beginning to scare me,” Ndole could feel the sweat breaking all over her body. She was shaking and he heart seemed to have dropped to the bottom of her being. Her voice trembled as she tried to form words that never made it out of mouth when the news exploded like a missile.
“I have a wife and four kids…”
Kendzeh moved away slightly from the bed, to give space to take in the news of his marriage. Like someone waking from a bad dream, Ndolo sobbed bitterly. She wanted to scream yet no sound came out. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it booming inside her ribs. She wept for her bad luck with love, she wept for all the dreams she had borne, for the time she had invested, her love, her pride as a woman, for the fact that she might never be anything more than just a mistress.
Ndolo was lost for a moment in her own small world; she was unaware of Kendzeh sitting on the bedroom floor, tears running down his cheeks. Cheeks she used to fondly caress and muse.
“Life will be hard without him,” she thought. An unknown artist was playing on the DVD stereo, singing, “There is a danger in loving somebody too much, and it is sad when you know it is your heart they can’t trust. There is a reason why people don’t stay where they are, cause baby sometimes love isn’t enough.”
