I was nineteen when I began writing her as my next of kin when opening bank accounts and creating Chama Accounts. It came naturally and in a way that I cannot even explain. The registration form would ask the relationship between her and me and I would write Fiancée. The bank attendant would look at me, and then look at me some more like that was something I did not qualify for.
I did not even have a beard. I am one of those guys whose beard came late, like a guest from Nairobi in a function at Murang’a. I watched my age mates use the no shave November hashtag in silence and defeat. They could have all the beard they liked, I had Harriet.