Monied bosses of the 90s, whether intentionally or through circumstance, married their house girls as second wives, often tucking them away from the “goat wife.” Frequently, a house was rented for the house girl before she was moved to a new and fully furnished family house built by the boss-turned-husband.

This situation often arose from illicit love affairs between the boss and the house girl, and by the time the wife learned of her impending deputy, it was usually too late.

A story is told of Mzee Jemithi (James), the richest man in the village and the only man who had money to buy a car—a Peugeot 505—and hire a house girl. The story goes that he had an insatiable appetite for women and did not stop even when he was once caught with the house girl in the nick of time.

Like many other village tycoons, Jemithi had all the trappings of power in the 90s, including a car, a storey house, and, most importantly, a car garage. It was a spectacle in Ndeiya village; villagers had never seen, nor could they imagine, that a car could have a room to sleep in.

Jemithi’s wife was a teacher at a nearby primary school, making the family one of the most affluent, with both parents working.

Jemithi was a bully, a well-built man who displayed his machismo by always rolling up his sleeves and unbuttoning his shirt halfway to expose his chest hairs. This, combined with his hoarse voice, terrified everyone in the village, including his wife, Prisca (Birithika).

As previously mentioned, Jemithi’s desire for Jane Nekesa, the girl from Shamakhokho village in Western Kenya, drove him to devise schemes to outmaneuver Birithika.

Nekesa was a typical Luhya girl—well-endowed, with short hair, a firm chest, and strong legs that attracted not only Jemithi but also other village wannabes.

Jemithi’s car garage was next to Nekesa’s bedroom. One day, Jemithi walked in on an early afternoon, knowing that Nekesa had completed all her day’s chores and was likely whiling away time on the couch or napping on the bed.

Jemithi crept slowly into the house, holding his breath and sizing up the moment. As expected, the hapless house girl was on the bed, catching a wink.

“Hodi hapa! Why are you sleeping during the daytime? Au umechoka sana?” Jemithi roared.

The sleepy house girl woke up, saw her macho boss standing at the door, his eyes roaming around the house, especially on her.

Caught off guard, Nekesa gazed around like an ensnared animal, unsure of what to do.

As the English say, misery loves company. Murphy’s Law states that anything that can go wrong will go wrong!

Birithika, the lioness of the house, arrived earlier than usual. The house was silent, save for a faint noise from the radio.

She stood there, puzzled by Jemithi’s car in the parking lot and the silence in the house. What Birithika didn’t know was that her philandering husband was inside, and Nekesa was on the path to becoming her co-wife.

A knock on the door brought some sanity back to the house, with Jemithi sneaking back to the garage. Nekesa opened the door and ushered in her boss, Madam Birithika.

Like any other woman, especially a teacher, Birithika could read the self-incriminating evidence on Nekesa’s face. She decided to keep calm, albeit with a heavy and painful heart.

Jemithi returned like the proverbial cat that had drunk milk, attempting to fool everyone.

“If anything has been done in darkness, it will shine in the daylight and be seen by all,” Birithika said.

A few days later, Nekesa was taken away by her boss-turned-husband to a new rented house, thereby becoming his second wife.

Nekesa was “gifted” three children by Jemithi and lived happily in a nearby town before being moved to one of Jemithi’s acquired lands.

That is how the wives of the 90s got deputies from their helpers.