She’s a top dog. A dynamite in her industry. Her name is revered. Her presence, even more feared. She’s the kingpin in the boardroom. Her thoughts are grandiose, spectacular even, to her mates. She has a way of coming up with finesse plans, ideas and ways to execute them.

Most say, she’s the heart of the business. The Midas touch.

Things seem to move a bit slow when she’s not around. But when she steps in, even the coffee lady accelerates her service. She takes her coffee with no sugar. Something about sugar slowing down her brain. A brain all her colleagues admire and would kill to have half of it.

In a male dominated industry, she’s proven herself a valiant heroine. She’s earned her keep. When you walk into her office, you’ll see all the awards she’s scooped. They glitter in bronze, silver and gold. An evident sight that what a man can do, a woman can do better. What’s even more outstanding is the fact that she’s not even thirty-five yet. To her, the sky is the limit. Nothing she sets her mind to do seems unreachable. Through her resilience, it all gives in at some point.

Her poise is spectacular. She wakes up early every morning to jog. She has maintained a healthy lifestyle; drinks lots of water and eats a nutritious diet. Her body is gorgeous. It fits perfectly on a frame that looks majestic in her expensive dresses. Many men admire her. Many women envy her. They say; how can one person have it all? They find ways to compare themselves with her. They cast lots to reveal her disadvantages and brag about their advantages over her.

You’ll hear them gossip;

‘At least I have kids, she doesn’t.’

‘What’s the point of been so successful in your career if you don’t have a family?’

‘Is she dating?’

‘Is that hair natural?’

‘The only reason she has such a body is because she’s not given birth yet.’

And it goes on and on until they find some leverage. A tiny score to win a few marks.

But what they can’t take away from her is her spark. That’s aura, that magic spell of hers. The one that evokes her successful career, her good looks, her aloofness to what the ‘haters’ have to say about her, overwhelming flirtatious comments from her male counterparts, her undeniable wealthy and posh lifestyle. They want it all, and, she’s got it all.

Sometimes she thinks about having her own kids, her own family and all. She longs to place framed pictures of them on her desk someday. She realizes that something had to give. And in her quest for ‘all-of-it’, that bit of her social life suffered. ‘I choose not to regret anything,’ is what she tells herself when she’s alone.

Turning down men has become a constant routine for her. Not just any men, men with clout. Men who would shake the ground with their influence. They all think they can have her at first. Then they realize it’s hard to impress a woman who has as much and potentially more than they do. They leave, one at a time. Defeated. Resigned to the need to chase her. And more keep coming. The devilish secret and not so discreet admirers who keep hitting on her. Sending her flowers and shit. Only wanting to get in her pants to prove that they can get any woman they want. Even the most successful ones like her. Over and over again, she’s proved them wrong.

She’s a woman cut from a different piece of cloth. That of a goddess. But she’s human. The multiple business trips, the pressure that comes with her work, her parents and siblings, the society and life as it is gets the best of her at times. She feels drained even though she has to act all bravado to give confidence to her team. It becomes emotionally gruelling and though she gets bogged down, she rises strong and keeps moving. That grit, that power, renders her the super woman status.

Most times she’s the last one to leave the office. She’s always working hard to appease the gods. To break through to the next level. Her very few girlfriends frown at her actions. They fail to understand why she works her ass off so much while in actual sense, she doesn’t need to. They’ll offer to buy drinks and dinner every week and still get the same answer. ‘Sorry girl, I’m working late today.’

But it’s not always the case. When she needs to take a break from life, she knows where to go.

She’ll ride the elevator down to the basement. Her handbag and laptop bag on both shoulders. She’ll walk to her car – a mean-ass, angelic-white, Porshe Cayenne – and fetch her keys from her handbag. Open the door, place her bags on the co-drivers sit and start the engine. She’ll drive past the guards and say, ‘haya, kesho.’

They’ll gabble back, ‘sawa-sawa-Madam’, and act swiftly not wanting to delay her even for a second.

She’ll make the turn and join the main road then whizz the beast towards Kilimani area, her foot firmly nudging the gas pedal. At the time she left the office, traffic had died down. The road is hers to conquer as is, most of everything in her life.

She’ll make a turn off the main road and drive towards the stand-alone houses of this estate where Nthumbi, her fiancé lives. He’s expecting her tonight and as usual, he’s prepared chicken tikka with rice just as she likes it. A bottle of wine too. He loves to cook especially for her.

She’ll ring the bell to alert him she’s home, then open the door and walk in. She’ll find him standing from the couch where he’d laid down and he’ll walk towards her and hug her. Then kiss her on the forehead.

They’ll sit down on the couch and all she’ll want to do is rest in his arms. Her safe heaven.

Nthumbi is the only person who gets her, the only person who appreciates her uniqueness and doesn’t battle to prove whether he’s better than her or not. He makes her laugh and keeps her happy. He’s comfortable in his skin and makes her even more comfortable in hers. When she’s around him, she’s at peace. She completely forgets about the world out there and the demands it makes of her. In his presence, she rests easy.

In his arms, she can be, just a woman.


PS: I apologize for the delay. For running this post a day later, it’s all because…..uhm….oh well! Next Thursday I’ll make it on time and a bit earlier too. Okay? Good! (For the new Amigos in the block, I put up new posts every Thursday. Be sure to check it out. Welcome to THE Blog.)

Photo credits: New York Times

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