I know the festivities are behind us but I just resumed "life" and I'd like to talk about what happened. Now, parts of this may be exaggerated, but all events happened as narrated here. 

I don't know about y'all, but I dread the Christmas holidays. It could be the thought of meeting the aunt who wants to remind me that I never responded to their Whatsapp message back in June (the "forward to 10 people" kind), or the uncle who sent me a job posting because what I currently do is unconventional and not a "real job." Then there's my mother who asks about what I have been to (even though we talk every other day for at least an hour). She, like my other relatives, doesn't believe that I have a real job (for context, I claim to be a Virtual Assistant, been doing that for the past two years or so). Then there's always that prying aunt who'll always ask about a suitor. The same aunt who chastised me for having a boyfriend back in University. 

Anyway, this year, I got lucky. Lucky because my cousin decided to introduce his soon-to-be wifey to the family. Now, this is no extraordinary occurrence. But, a little context is necessary. Afuande, my cousin, brought Wanjiru to meet the family. Soon as they stepped within my grandmother's compound, their little relationship became family business. The lady was light skinned, as is common among Murima ladies. She had shaved the sides of her head and plaited blue braids in the middle. Thick mascara lined her eyes. What shook the family was that, next to Afuande, this lady seemed domineering. Her confidence proved them right. 

As is customary, the family got to know (read: interrogated) Wanjiku. We discovered she had a teenage son from a previous marriage. My cousin had a previous situation and has two sons, both under 10. When Afuande's father asked Afuande what they thought about where their relationship was heading, and if he had considered his previous complicated relationship, Miss Wanjiru confidently said, "Tumeamua kusettle pamoja. Tutaraise watoto pamoja."

Like I said, her confidence shook the family. To them, mtoto wao angekanyagiwa. Anyway, after the guests left, the discussions began, because this was family business. 

"So hii maneno ya Afuande unaona tufanyeje?" was one aunt's question.

"He's a grown man. He can handle his business," quipped one of the older cousins present. (We were all having lunch outside).

"No, no. Hapa tukona wazee and he needs to listen to their advice. They've experienced this before. They can't watch him ruin his life," retorted yet another family member. 

Me: It's his life and he's 35. You can't keep controlling everything he does in the name of experience. 

My mother: That is poor thinking. Leave the matter to your uncles to handle it. 

What should have been an introductory ceremony became a family debate about whether the lady was good for Afuande or if he was ruining his life (whatever that means).

Yet, that's my family for you. Any event quickly becomes family business and people will sit down to discuss how best the family can proceed. Be it as personal as heartbreak to life-changing like losing your job, the family will be there to discuss this business, as long as they get a whiff of it. Another cousin secretly attended her spouse's mother's burial. She hadn't introduced the man to the family yet. Unfortunately for her, one of my aunts was also in attendance and happened to know that the man was a widower. You can imagine how the discussion went before the official introductions happened. 

We could be building empires out here but what's juicier than meddling in each other's lives, eh?