(All persons engaged in sexual activity are over 18 years of age and any similarities between this story and real life are purely coincidental).
Were it not for my late father's constant exhortation that we should love each other, I think I would have had major problems with my younger sister. I have just caught her in my son's house in broad daylight. She was to fetch some maize for me to boil, but it took longer than I would have supposed. When I went out to see what the problem was, she was nowhere to be seen. Instead I heard grunts, which I soon realized were coming from my son's house. I felt hot all over, my thoughts running back some decades before.
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When we were much younger, with small children, Abigail's marriage to her high school sweetheart suddenly ended. My father tried to shore it up, so that a bad reputation did not attach itself to his family, but to no avail. She had nowhere to stay, and I talked my husband into letting her stay with us for a while. She came with her two small sons; the two elder ones were in boarding school. I immediately noticed a few things about her.
First she was very extravagant with money. She bought her children expensive sweets where my husband and I discouraged our children from eating sweets. She brought them in quantities enough that our children were also given. I tried to counsel her not to give the children so many of them at a go, and to keep some for another day. But she retorted that they had been bought to be eaten.
Secondly, she performed at her tasks at great speed, be it washing clothes, cleaning the house, or even eating. If she was sitting down, she would have her legs spread apart, and even though her dresses or skirts were not the short minis that were just then coming into fashion, she pulled hers up so that her knees and part of the thighs were uncovered. I could not understand where she had picked this bad habit of sitting. This happened even when my husband was around.
"Abigail, please stop showing your nakedness like that! What would our late father say were he to know that you sit spread-eagled like that!"
"But Salome, my sister, I am only getting my clothes out of the way as I work!" She would then remember one of the lessons drilled into us by our parents, that of respecting the one who was older than yourself. She would pull her dress to below her knees as she worked. But a short while later, she would have forgotten and exposed herself again.
At other times she worked bending forward. At such times she bent over so far that her back made a steep angle, with legs planted straight, even with a backward bend. This would cause whatever she was wearing to climb so high that the backs of her thighs were in full view. This may have been as bad, if not worse, in my opinion. I worried that if my husband were to come upon her in that position, anything might happen.
I began to notice that the two were almost of a kind. They seemed to have their own private store of jokes to share, some of which seemed to me a bit off-colour in front of the kids.
"This very white sugar is not as sweet. You have to add another teaspoon to get it to taste," Abigail once commented.
"You know, the dull-coloured type comes from the sacks that were at the top as they were transported by lorry to Nairobi," Kevin, my husband began.
"So what?" Abigail had a very naughty look on her face.
"You see, the turnboys who load and unload do not stop the driver to relieve themselves on the way..."
"Kevin, the children!" I interrupted him. By now Abigail had gotten the drift and was laughing her head off. I did not dare join them in the laughter lest all the children thought I approved of this kind of talk.
Next I caught them brushing against each other, or a fleeting touch that would have passed as being very innocent had it not been for this rapport I had already picked up on. In the car, even though I sat in the front passenger seat, he would have more to say to her than his wife. My sister did not seem to mind that my husband was giving her an unnatural level of attention. I was caught between relief that he was hardly ever at home, being a railway engineer, and missing him in bed on some nights.
Some evenings they would come home together, which I at first appreciated. Kevin would be on his way home and passed by the busstop to see if she had already left. Luckily she had not. I thought him very kind. But one evening their arrival was later than if she had actually come home by bus as usual. I decided not to let it bother me too much. How could my sister, from the same womb, snatch my husband away from me? What would be his payoff, anyway? We had four children, three of them girls, while Abigail had four, all sons. It did not look to me the kind of move that would be beneficial to him, since he would have to find brideprice to pay for all the boys, while here he stood to gain from the brideprice brought by his daughters suitors. Thus I thrust the thought from my mind.
