Operation "Amani Ya Ghafla"

This is going to be short, as short a story as it can possibly be since the moral should not be lost in the details. I will start with the moral of this story if I may, peace in the house. The best gift you can give a man is peace in his house; the sacrifices he makes to accommodate a woman in his house should be reciprocated with peace at home.

This is a true story.

Sometime back, a policewoman was relieved off her duties for wearing the inner wears on the outer and vice versa. You see, in a broader sense, it would be her fault but we can credit a little fault in her mans pursuit of peace at home. This lady, let’s call her Joyce* was married to a very nice fella, let’s call him Paul*. Paul and Joyce had been married for a couple of years and Paul did his level best to keep his woman happy. He had come to accept that he was never right, he did not own the house or his pay slip, if he had a better day than his wife he never bragged about it and he had learnt to shut up even when he was right. He was a perfect husband in his opinion, and if I may throw in my two cents, I believe he gave up too much.

Joyce on the other hand loved chaos, she loved her tantrums so much and a day gone without one was considered a day lost in her books. She would complain whenever Paul went out for a drink with his boys and stayed out late, but staying in never guaranteed peace anyway. She would still find a reason to break glasses. Paul tried his level best to keep his cool, love his woman for better or for worse but peace he craved for, he dreamt big, dreamt because peace in his house was more of a dream and being the good husband that he was, he accepted that. At least until one day, that one day his need for peace overshadowed all else.

Paul was a social drinker, he consulted Mary Jane every once in a while. Those who knew him believed he stayed around for that long because even though they fought a lot, he was allowed to attend the sessions at Mary Jane’s therapy and spa. One Friday evening, he asked in group therapy for advice, peace mission in his house. Stoned heads come together in pursuit of peace.

“Operation Amani Ya Ghafla”

Come Saturday morning, Paul woke up earlier than the norm. He was not going to work, his wife was home too. He decided to make her breakfast in bed, a very noble idea. At this point, he wasn’t really sure if his idea was a mistake but the consequences at this point were outweighed by the benefits. Peace mission it was. He scrambled some eggs, threw in some bacon, spread some bread and made some coffee. The coffee was good, he knew it, he had made it some time back and liked it. The coffee had to work. He laced it with some wisdom, a little peace element, and a whole lot of love. Breakfast in bed it is.

Joyce loved the coffee, she loved it so much that he took a second cup, and a third too. It was relaxing, therapeutic too I must add. She was peaceful, smiling all morning, walking around the house with only her T-shirt on. She didn’t know what was happening but she liked the feeling, a sudden feel of peace had engulfed her.

10:00 a.m., a call on her cell came through, emergency at work. She took a quick shower, changed to her work clothes and rushed to the office. On arrival, her boss summoned her to the office.

Boss: Is everything okay ma’am?

Joyce: Yes Sir.

Boss: Are you sure?

Joyce: Yes sir.

Boss: Any trouble at home, or at work?

Joyce: No Sir.

Boss: Why is your petticoat worn on your skirt?

Joyce: (frozen, she checks herself out) Huh?

Joyce was the self conscious kind. She never made such kind of mistakes; she cared a lot about her appearances and was able, on a normal day, to talk herself out of most situations. But this was not a normal day, and this was not part of most situations.

Boss: Take some time off, and see a doctor. The good kind off doctor.