I Love Three Women… And They Are Cool About It


Today, I was listening to South African rapper Proverb’s song “women” from his 2005 “Book of Proverb” album. It evoked a feeling in me that I can’t really put my finger on. I started to ponder who I really love in my life and realized I love more than one woman. See, I’m a man, a very progressive and proud man but it’s official I love women, three for that matter who are cool about me loving them all. So I just want to take this time and tell you how I feel about them individually.

I love the first woman for what she represents. Though I’ve known her the shortest among the three, she gives me an idea of what life is all about. I know I cannot call her a woman yet because she’s only 7 but in my eyes I’ve already envisioned the kind of woman she’ll be (you know, product of an environment and all that stuff). Looking at her gracefully laugh reminds one of all the time I was happy and how those are moments I want to live in. She reminds me; no actually she shows me what it’s like to love. I see her play, and when she smiles everything that is sad in me is suddenly joyous (Of course I see her cry sometimes, and this is usually painful to see). But when happy she jumps on my shoulders. She pushes me around, playfully blocks my way on the door, and I look down at her all this while thinking I can do this all the time. I can do anything to make her happy. I want to protect her from all the bad things of this world, be the one she turns to when the world etches and her life needs scratching. She’s the future leader, president (mind you even first lady has crossed my mind, not like the one we had but the Dr Kaseba kind). She’ll guide her young ones I know because she’s already a great sister to another guy who’ll equally do wonders in future – but that’s another story. She’s the next Marsha Moyo, Mizinga Melu, Catherine Namugala and well, Dora Siliya (I mean, before RB was president..). Overall, they say nobody knows the future. Okay. But at least I’ve got the right to predict right? Well get it from me I see this inquisitive Lozi girl, doing great things. I see her changing this family, this country, this world with her thoughts, ideas, and character. If I were you I’d watch out for my niece Mubiana Ilukena and stand in awe of her awesome and impeccable dreams.

The second woman I love is my comrade, my inspiration, and my “enemy” all rolled into one. She’s my from-day-one woman, my best friend. I have seen her pull through some of the worst family neglect, condemnation, and distrust ever. They all thought she was going to fail. Actually, they wished she failed so they could rub it in our faces and say “yep, we knew she wouldn’t make it” but as a goddess and fighter I’ve known her to be, she showed them why there is no one like her. Why all the criticism didn’t break her, why in the midst of all the hate she managed to have a family of her own; a wonderful husband and two beautiful children that in my opinion are high on the most wonderful of God’s creation. And I love them, way more than an addict loves the addiction. I love her for believing in me when others are reluctant to do so. As a young boy when I was suspended from school, I went to see her first and asked her to go home with me for support. Though she reclined, her advice on what I had to do was more than I could ask for. I love her for scrutinizing my girlfriends, telling me when she likes them, and reprimanding me when she doesn’t. I love her for constantly reminding me what’s important in life, for every bar conversation about my family that apparently I can only have with her, and for hating most family members that I hate too. I love her for enlightening me that“money loves money” (if you don’t get it, don’t worry it’s a little joke she and I share). Most importantly I love her for respecting me, even when I make it so difficult for her; she still treats me as an equal. I love my sister, Loveness Ndiyase Ilukena because when we argue she always finds the fun side of it and before we know it we’d be laughing together about it later.

The third woman I love is the one I’ve known the longest, in fact she happens to be the first woman I knew. She loves me unconditionally. It’s so unlike how anybody else loves me; when I’m broke, when I’m sick, when I need any other especial help she’s the first person I go to, and the one woman who welcomes me willingly. I have to admit though, sometimes when things are great for me I tend to forget just how important she is to me. I don’t spend enough time and energy to show her how I really feel, how much I appreciate her. She’s the strongest, most resilient, most intelligent, most enduring, most “everything that is good”. And for the sake of honesty I have to admit I don’t know just how she does it. Because I know for a fact given her shoes, they wouldn’t fit me. She lost the love of her life (and basically half her comfortable life) over twenty years ago. Most of them gave up on her. They thought she couldn’t do it; they took the house, the cars, and everything material but they never took her soul, or her will, her dedication to raise four beautiful children on her own. Looking back and I see it was actually way more than four people she managed to bring up. She took us to some of the best schools on a meager salary. And just when things couldn’t get worse, she was fired at some milling company I can’t mention (they can become big headed). Did that stop her? NO! It inspired her to transform herself into the most powerful woman in the family who took care of her sisters, brothers, and sometimes people not even related to her. She has a heart for people, and through her laborious attempts she found a job in the public service and hasn’t looked back since. So prejudice a man all you want, call me a momma’s boy and I’ll accept it, wear it on my forehead for everybody to see because truth be told I love this woman, my mother Patricia Jeanie Manunga (PJ) more than any other woman in this world. And I like to think, she’s the only woman I know who loves me more.

God, I love these three women!

 

(My Intellect Is Loud And Noisy-MILAN)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s