Cleopatra

By Anthony Muchoki , originally published 2005.

Like other women in the room, Cleopatra swung her hips to the rhythm of the erotic song on the DVD music system the Ugandan had bought for her. Her spirit was high, and she felt the tides of life flowing through her as she danced to the tune. 

There were more than twenty women in the room, stark naked, singing and dancing as Warauu culture demanded of them. Tomorrow would be D-day, and this was the last kitchen party before Cleopatra would be married-off.

Men were not allowed in the house tonight. It was a time for her elder sisters, and other married female relatives to symbolically strip off her virginity, as from the following night a man would “break her knees,” as the elders would say.

Cleopatra was happy, and when two of the younger women were chosen to caress her and show her what her husband-to-be will do to her body, she felt it was the Ugandan touching her.

She wanted him too much. She opened her mouth wide in excitement. She had waited for him for five years. Five years of longing. She felt pangs of bliss wash down her spine to every part of her body. After everything was over as culture demanded, she felt ready for her new occupation as a wife.

“I’ll make him happy,” she said in her heart. Every time she saw the Ugandan it was like a dream come true.  He was the man of her life, the roots of marina the tree of each person’s life. She could not wait for the day to break.

The day came. The food was ready and the air was full of music. The whole family was waiting for the bridegroom and his team to come to take his bride. Nothing would go wrong, the bird had told her. As a sign, it had rained in the morning. That was a sure omen that the angels were with her.

By 5.00 pm, the team had not arrived. Everybody became apprehensive. She had tried to reach him on her cellphone.  It rang, but nobody was answering the call.

She was inside her room. Traditions demanded that this day, she should be carried out of the room by her prospective in-laws after paying the final dowry, which after all was just sh10,000/-. By 6.00 pm friends and relatives had grown weary of waiting, and some took their food and left. A number of close friends and relatives remained as some young men were sent to go and search for the groom.

Cleopatra was crying. When it reached 8 o’clock at night, she knew that her angels had lied to her. She washed her wedding gown with tears, when a message was relayed to her that the priest who was to conduct the ceremony at a nearby church had given up. The priest said in his written message that no matter what, he would not help such a disorganized couple after they had wasted his whole day.

The Ugandan was such a handsome man. But now, he was making her feel a mountainous heap of pain in her back. Her stomach was rolling inside as if a snake was coiled there. She was sweating, and no words could console her.

“Life must go on, my child,” her mother told her.

“No, no, even death can go on,” she told herself. All she could see was the shame she had put herself in.  She had preserved her virginity, and waited for the Ugandan for five years. She did not care any longer what had gone wrong. She could never love him. Never, she vowed.

She removed the wedding gown. With a penknife, she tore it into pieces in a bout of mad rage.

“I divorce you. I divorce you,” she shouted as her mother desperately tried to calm her. A few moments later, she changed clothes and ran out of the house.

Everyone thought she had run amok. It was dark and no one was able to trace the route she had followed. As if in a trance, she found herself going to the Ugandan’s house.

When she reached his residence, she saw him calmly watching TV.  She wanted to kick him to hell. She wanted to murder him. No words came out of her mouth as she went inside and grabbed him.

But love is strange.  A few minutes later they found themselves in the Ugandan’s massive bed. They were making love. Cleopatra felt she had flown to another world.  A world where neither divorce, nor death, nor any creature could take him away from her. This pleasure was her very life. It was the missing link in her former life. No words were uttered as they walked a thousand miles of lovemaking for the next two hours.

To Cleopatra, nothing mattered anymore. All her pain was gone with the wind. She was a new person, just as she had been told at the kitchen party. She felt nothing else could be better than living with the Ugandan.

Her mother, and the other people at home in panic decided to go to Randiera City Police Station II, which was nearby. They reported the matter. An officer on duty suggested they check her lover’s house. When they reached the house, which was only 30 minutes drive from the station, they were surprised to see the Ugandan open the door clothed with only a towel around his waist.

Cleopatra’s Mama wanted to swallow him. She wanted to grab him and reduce him to dust for causing so much pain to her daughter, and embarrassment to the whole family. Only the strong hand of one of the three police officers accompanying them, restrained her.

The Ugandan asked them what they were after. They said they were checking to see if Cleopatra was with him. She emerged from the bedroom, clad in a khanga. All hell broke loose when she calmly told her mama to go back home, as she was safe.

“I cannot leave my love tonight,” she told her Mama.

On hearing those words, the 50 years old mother with her 80 kilos body weight, jumped on her daughter like a wounded African leopard. The Ugandan, in the knick of time, saved Cleopatra by forcibly moving her out of range of the enraged mother.  Her mother hit the wall with a thud and fell down.  She quickly got up, and left the house without uttering a word.

One by one, the other people in the room left, and Cleopatra and the Ugandan were alone once more.

Cleopatra felt extremely exhausted and did not want to think about the events of the past five hours, apart from the fact that she had reached another world. She went back to bed without talking to the Ugandan, and fell fast asleep.

Long ago before she fell in love with the Ugandan, her mother and auntie had tried to persuade her to get married to a lame teacher, who adored her very much, and always called her “my wife.” She had rejected the man, not because of his disability, but because he was 15 years older than she was.

“If you don’t take my advice, one day you will regret it. Young men will just ravage your beauty. They are too hot blooded and unmannered. An older person will take care of you better,” her auntie had told her.

When she woke up the following day, the Ugandan was nowhere to be seen. On the table there was a note:

You are too much for me. Your beauty and the magical love you posses are not natural. I have gone back to my country, but I know you will always haunt me. I am running away from you.

You can take everything in the house, as I will not come back ever again to your country. All my relatives who had come for the wedding have gone back home. I wish you the best in life.

 I can’t have you, and I can never stop loving you. Last word. My angels told me that if I ever married you, that day would have been my last on earth, and the wedding vows would have turned into the epitaph on my grave. Forgive me, and bye.

After reading the note, she wanted to scream. Instead, only the hollow wail of a defeated creature came out of her dry mouth.

Two years had passed since the first wedding-to-be flopped, when Ken approached Cleopatra for a relationship. She was wary of men after her first shattering experience.

Every night, the images of the Ugandan filled her heart, and no matter how much she wanted to hate him, she found herself loving him more and more.

Ken was a nice, handsome guy, barely thirty, with a good four-wheel drive car, and all the trappings of wealth.  Every other woman would have given him a big yes, when he proposed marriage, but not Cleopatra.

For about three months, he kept pestering her. Finally out of his wits, he promised never to disturb her again, if she told him why she had turned him down.

Cleopatra decided to tell him the story of her life, and how she was still in love with the Ugandan, despite the evil he had done her. Ken, with his endless love would make her forget the Ugandan. She believed him. And a seed of love was born.

Cleopatra was the kind of a girl who loved with all her heart when she meant to. Ken had never been loved like that before.  He felt Cleopatra was created for him.  Nothing was ever going to separate them.  Many were the days they would spend at Ken’s house. She was beginning to forget the Ugandan. And Ken was pressuring her to take him to her parents. She was hesitant. She had learnt her lesson from the previous disappointment and felony by the Ugandan. She was afraid of another embarrassment.

Then one day, it just happened. A woman and a kid came to Ken’s house when she was alone.  She introduced herself as Mrs Ken. She could not believe it. She called him and told him a woman claiming to be his wife was waiting for him.

Her whole body felt numb and cold. This was going to be another nightmare. She wanted to disappear in the thick clouds. She looked at the young boy with the mother. He   was a young replica of his father. He was just like a young, compressed Ken. He could not deny it.

Cleopatra went to the bedroom. Mrs Ken was enraged, and asked her what she was doing in her husband’s room. She calmly told her she did not know that Ken was married.

“Ken proposed marriage to me. He never informed me that he had any other relationship. Now, that I know the truth, I’m leaving this house.  I don’t want to ever see him again in my life,” she told Mrs Ken. Cleopatra packed her belongings.  She wrote a note to Ken:

May you live your lie forever. You are the second man to cheat my heart out of me.  Never ever try to get in touch with me. Thank you.

She gave the note to Mrs. Ken and took her leave. When a few minutes, Ken arrived to calm a storm of his own making, Cleopatra was nowhere to be seen. Ken’s son was happy to see his dad. The last time he had seen him was five months ago. He jumped into his arms. The mother was quiet. When he finally enquired what had happened to the lady who was in the house, the wife gave him the note. He read it.

“So you want to marry another woman?” she asked him. Silently he took his phone and dialed Cleopatra’s cellphone. She was unreachable. Nothing was going to make him lose her.

“That woman is my angel,” he told his wife.

“She is all that I have sought for in my whole life. I cannot let her go. I never told her I was married, as I did not want to lose her. When I saw her for the first time my heart moved within me. My wife, I’m going out to look for Cleopatra, otherwise I will never find peace.”

Ken went out. He drove up to Cleopatra’s house and honked. The watchman opened the door for him. Cleopatra was inside. 

“I don’t want to see you ever again. Don’t talk to me. Please get out of my house,” she told him. Ken was knelt down seeking forgiveness.

“I will explain everything. Please Cleopatra,” he told her.

“I said get out of my house.  Never try to get in touch with me for the rest of your damn life. Listen to me!” she shouted at him. Shamefacedly, Ken left the house, and went back to his home. His enraged wife was also leaving. She told him to sort out what he wanted with his life; otherwise he was not worthy to continue being her husband.

After six months of failing to get back to Cleopatra, despite sending her more than two e-mails daily, and countless hand written messages, he gave up on life.

His suicide note read:

When my angel left me,

Life lost it’s meaning.

Cleopatra you are the one.

I pray you will forgive me.

When Cleopatra read the news the following morning that the billionaire Chief Executive of the Multinational Ken Ltd was dead, she felt nothing in her heart – no loss nor pity or a tingle of joy.

The Ugandan came back unexpectedly five days after Ken’s suicide. It was a nice evening, and after she had parked her Prado inside the compound of the new house she had bought a fortnight ago, she went out jogging at a nearby community farm.

The Ugandan appeared from nowhere. He was ragged and she could not see him well as dusk had started settling. She did not know whether to embrace him or to run away. For years in her dreams, this was the man who had been her constant companion. She had tried to exorcise his ghost by seeking both traditional and modern wisdom with no success.

The Ugandan took her hand forcefully. He led her to the thick bush.

“Why did you sleep with that Ken dog? I know you did it, let me see your womanhood,” he said as he tore her clothes off. Cleopatra was horror-struck. She tried to scream but no sound came out of her mouth. The Ugandan was gazing at her now naked body.

“Why did you?” He was mad with jealousy.

“You were mine, but the gods cheated me, you were not mine,” he rambled. Then the worst happened. He entered her forcibly.  She felt as if a Somali sword had been powerfully thrust inside her womanhood. She closed her eyes waiting for a certain death. After a few minutes she opened her eyes, and thought she had escaped death by a whisker.

The Ugandan was lying beside her exhausted and asleep. She rose up and covered herself with a khanga, the only piece of her clothing that could be salvaged. It was now completely dark. She ran away to her house. She called her doctor, who came to the house fast.

The doctor called a police officer. She narrated her story after the doctor had treated her. The following day the pain was not so bad, but she was limping. The police officers came for her so that she could lead them to the scene of crime.

When they reached the spot, the Ugandan was still asleep. One policeman tapped him hard with the butt of his gun. Startled, he woke up.

The Ugandan darted his eyes took in all sides. When he saw Cleopatra, he got up and started running away. The policeman ordered him to stop otherwise he was going to shoot him. One….Two… Three… shouted the policeman, and finally shot him in the leg. Cleopatra ran to him.

“Oh no! Why have you shot him?” She cried hugging and consoling him. They took the Ugandan to hospital under an armed guard. The following day, as his condition was stable, the police took him to court.

Cleopatra was in court. She raised her hand and the magistrate gave her a chance to speak, as she was the complainant.

“I have forgiven him,” she found herself saying. She would reconcile with the Ugandan, she thought and make the best out of their life together. He was released immediately, and everybody in the court was baffled as to how a woman could forgive a man who had raped her. The Ugandan left the dock and they went home, hand in hand.

“I have forgiven you. I don’t want you to ever leave me again,” she told him. The Ugandan could not believe his good kismet. He had never known peace since he ran away from Cleopatra. For more than four years he had been stalking Cleopatra without her knowledge. He was enraged by her relationship with Ken. He had planned to murder Ken, but the chap finished himself off. Good riddance, he said. Now, here he was in the arms of the girl who lived in his heart.  He would never leave her.

“I’ll make you happy,” he told her.

“I’ll do all I can to make it up to you for the rest of my life.”

Hearing those words, Cleopatra was so happy. The world was the most beautiful place. She wanted to live forever. Finally she had her man. The Ugandan. She would give him everything. No matter what people said, and despite her Mama’s opposition, they would live together for the rest of their lives, she told herself.

For one year, they were the best couple in the world. Cleopatra’s dream had come true, until one day when the gods told the Ugandan to disappear. He did not take anything from the house. Cleopatra came home one evening and found a note:

I am gone.

I will never come back again.

The gods have commanded me to leave you.

Cleopatra tore her clothes in anguish. The one-year they had been together was full of good memories. The Ugandan was the perfect man. The best man in the world, who filled her heart, and she did not want to lose him.

“Fate has conspired to deny me my dream man,” she said.

“My guardian angel must have left me a long time ago. I am on my own.” She was thinking aloud. She wanted to push time back and re-live the last one-year with the Ugandan.

“He is mine, he is mine forever,” she was crying when her Mama found her in the streets two days later. Her mind could not stomach the pain of rejection. She was not aware that she had fallen into insanity, and left her luxurious residence to live in the streets.

After a year of expensive psychiatric help, she was back on her feet. She became a born again Christian.

Her beauty, as she aged, miraculously continued to glow even the more. No one could tell she was 35 years old. Her body was like that of an eighteen-year old girl. And she was determined to let go of the past.

She would never live in the past again. For two years she took life in her stride. Her stock broking firm prospered, and was declared the best in Randiera State by the capital markets authority. Her love life could have been a mess, but she had never made a wrong business or investment decision. She prospered vastly, and became famous as a philanthropist. She helped to fund many charities. She prayed every night for a husband. A good husband comes from the Lord. The Bible told her. She believed it. 

“One day I will get the man of my life,” she convinced herself. She kept on praying. Then Leonard came into her life.

He was 10 years her junior. They loved each other passionately. He made her forget the pain of her past. They were going to get married in a big wedding. It would be so wonderful. Her pastor was so happy for her. Leonard too was walking in the clouds full of bliss. He truly loved her, not her money as his peers thought. He thought Cleopatra was the most remarkable person he had ever met.

When he told his Mama he had got a girl to marry, she too was very happy. When they met for the first time with his fiancée, her beauty impressed her too. She thought her son was very lucky.

The wedding preparations were going perfectly until Leonard’s mother heard that Cleopatra was too old for her son. She confronted them. Cleopatra told her she was in her mid thirties.  She hit the roof.

“No, no, an old woman cannot marry my son,” she said. Cleopatra was not ready to let anyone steal her newfound joy. Leonard, too, could not call off the wedding whatever his distraught mother would say.

Two days before the wedding, Leonard’s mother did not wake up from her sleep. She went to her eternal rest, as she could not stomach witnessing her son’s marriage, of which she didn’t approve.

Leonard’s eldest brother was the first person to learn about his mother’s death. He called Leonard.

“Now you can go on and marry that bitch witch of yours. Mama is dead. You killed her,” he told him. Leonard was flabbergasted.

“What is the problem dear,” Cleopatra asked him.

“My mother is dead,” he wailed.

“I must bring my mother back to life, I must.”

Cleopatra felt a cold shiver ran down her spine. She saw her marriage and long sought for happiness being blown away in the wind.

Leonard ran to his car. He said he was going to be with his mother. He was driving at 160 km per hour when ten minutes later his car hit an electricity power pole. The car burst in flames and Leonard died.

Cleopatra had followed him driving the new Mercedes Benz she had bought for Leonard the same day. Then she saw the fire where her husband-to- be had perished. She stopped the car. She got out. There was only black soot and pieces of twisted metal to be seen at the spot of the dying fire. She waited for it to die down. She was speechless.

The only thing she managed to salvage was a fireproof watch she had bought for Leonard.  When the police arrived at the scene, she was telling Leonard she would never leave him. Holding his ashes in her hands, she was saying over and over again:

 “You are the man of my life.

“I will never leave you Leonard, never,” she was saying when as if in a dream, the Ugandan appeared. She tore her clothes off. Naked, she started running away. She did not want to re-live the nightmare again. Not even for a second.