False msafiri FICTION 128 M ove closer,’ I told her. It was a cold June night, probably the coldest in the two years Eranive and I had been in matrimony. The thick blanket did not seem enough to block the cold air that seemed to penetrate to one’s bone marrow. To the contrary, she drifted away and faced the other side. ‘ Did you hear me?’ I asked. ‘ I am not deaf!’ she answered curtly. She let a good part of the blanket fall between us, creating a wall between her warm body and my cold self. I was surprised, very surprised. In the seven hundred and thirty days we had been together, I had never heard her speak in the tone she had just used tonight. ‘ Is this the best way we can celebrate our wedding anniversary?’ I spoke, shivering. I tried to double over, my knees almost touching my chin, to keep warm, but this did not seem to help. ‘ How else?’ she answered me with a question, her voice carrying the same tone which I was not sure was anger or defiance. I had been away the whole day, looking for a good market for maize. I left her sleeping early morning, having carefully tiptoed from the room. She appeared to be so deep in sleep that I found it unwise to disturb her. After hunting all over Chipiri, with the sad result that I just could not find a buyer willing to take my maize at a good price, I came back home late in the evening. I found her already in the blanket. I joined her immediately after taking my supper, hoping, as usual, to hold each other in our arms and drift to sleep in warmth and comfort. Only to have a rude awakening. ‘ Is anything wrong?’ I wanted to find out. ‘ Of course, everything is wrong, can’t you see that for yourself?’ she spat out. ‘ Everything is very wrong. We are “ celebrating” the second anniversary of our marriage with no fruit to look at. Tiwonge, who got married the same day as I did, is pregnant again.’ A chill crept up my spine. I took the blanket off my head and sat up. I was tempted to look for a box of matches to light a match so that I could have a look at her. What, exactly, was the matter? We had spoken about this so many times, but it had always been in a friendlier, reasonable way, always concluding the subject by banking our hopes on prayer. Come to think of it, I had even considered her the most understanding woman in the world! Had I been mistaken? I groped for the box of matches beside the mat, but I could not find it. Frustrated, I lay down on the mat once more. ‘ How can you talk about our problem like this tonight?’ I asked her calmly. for honour Kenya Airways is proud of its association with The Caine Prize for African Writing, awarded for a short story by an African writer published in English. Stanley Onjezani Kenani was shortlisted in the 2008- 9 competition for his story For Honour. ‘

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