Dear Diary,

I am one pissed man. I’ve heard other people complain of bad guests, but I never thought I’d be dealing with one myself. My friend Enoch cries all the time about his mother-in-law, who likes to take long holidays in his house. She also happens to be a very picky eater, and Enoch’s wife has him running around, looking for pure lean meat, genuine Kitui honey and milk from a three-legged buffalo or something. Naturally, he’s the one I take my problem to.

We sit at The Drink, the local watering hole where we go to quench our thirst, and cry about our lives. In my case, it’s to also laugh at the woes of the married.

“Enoch,” I say, “imagine she cost me a date.”

“This is the woman staying in your house because she’s pregnant by her pastor?”

“Jenny, yes.”

He leans closer, all serious. “Tom, I know you to be many things, but chucking responsibility? That’s not like you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know that story is as believable as that of Luanda Magere, right? Why would she come to you if you’re not the father of the child?”

I’m thinking he must be getting drunk. “Are you serious? She was a virgin when she was living with me before.”

“Then she left pregnant. I get it. Your point being?”

“You know what? Let’s finish these drinks and go home. I don’t know why I thought you’d see reason.”

Just then, my other friends Azizi and Lucas show up. Azizi is laughing so hard he can hardly stand.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“I can’t believe this. I didn’t know you were all talk and no action. Perpetual bachelor my ass. You, my friend, are now a kept man.”

“I’m not. I just have a woman living in my house that I can’t get rid of.”

Now the laughter is all around the table.

Enoch asks, “And how would you describe a wife?”

“Christ!” I slap the table. “Guys, I don’t even like this woman.”

“You mean the woman in your house?” Lucas asks. “The one eating your food? Sleeping in your sheets.”

“She sleeps in the guest room!” I protest.

“Did she bring it with her?”

Now I’m beginning to get really annoyed. “Look, I only came to ask for advice on what I should do. Jenny is very vulnerable right now. I can’t just kick her out into the street.”

Enoch waves his arms to calm the others down. “Okay, okay. Guys, this is serious. Our friend needs our help and laughing at him isn’t it. Alright, Tom, I’ll tell you exactly what you need to do. You need to go and talk to her parents.”

That makes sense. “You’re right,” I say. “I hadn’t thought of that. Go on.”

“You’ll have to get them something,” Azizi adds. “You don’t go to see older folks without some sort of gift.”

“What kind of gift? I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Lucas chips in. “The most important thing is that you go in person and report their daughter.”

I sit back, a little confused. “What about Jenny? How do I make her come with me?”

“Oh, she’ll come,” Enoch assures me. “And you don’t have to hide the fact that you’re going to see her parent.”

“Actually,” Lucas adds, “I think she’ll like the idea.”

I ask, “You think so?”

“I know so. Hey, tell you what, we’ll even take you.”

I’ve never felt this much love for my buddies. “You will?”

“We’re your friends,” says Enoch. “We have to be there when you visit your future parents-in-law.”