Women Who Kill #2: Pink Is The Colour of Greed
By Felly Oyuga
Marianne was a beautiful baby. Everyone agreed. So fat and so round was she, that if babies really did bounce, she would have done so perfectly. She was the first child and the apple of her father’s eye.
Her parents were well to do. Baba Marianne ran a big company, doing important things for the government, while Mama Marianne stayed at home to look after the young family. The couple later had two other children after Marianne. Marianne was the ideal daughter. She got good grades, helped with chores and barely fought with her siblings. She hardly had friends though, how could she? She spent a lot of time with her father. Even before she could construct a proper sentence, Marianne had been in boardrooms with movers and shakers. On Fridays, Baba Marianne bought his daughter pink roses. He had business to attend to in Naivasha every Friday and it always upset Marianne that he would not take her with him. This was the only business she was not included in. No amount of carrying on would make him change his mind. Pink roses was his peace offering. Marianne learnt to accept the flowers, and in fact started looking forward to them.
When it was time to go to university, Baba Marianne chose only the best university for his princess. She went to London Business School. Baba Marianne’s plans were to have her join him in business as soon as she returned from ‘the abroad’. He was so proud, he told anyone who cared to listen where his daughter had gone to study. It is in England where Marianne became close to Uncle Joe. Joe Mkubwa was Baba Marianne’s close friend and business associate. Marianne had a crush on Uncle Joe that intensified as she grew older. Joe aged well. He was well into his fifties but still quite the eye candy. He was tall and very handsome. A silver fox. Grey on the sides of his head, salt and pepper beard. He did not have the annoying potbelly most men his age had. He looked after his body well. Joe wore beautifully fitting Italian suits that showed his taut bum. Watching him walk was like listening to sensual poetry while being fed grapes! On top of his physical attributes, Uncle Joe was well read. Marianne spent hours daydreaming about him. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss his moist looking lips, or how he would feel pressed against her.
At twenty one, she was a virgin. She was not interested in experimenting, she wanted to be with an experienced man. So when her father called to say Uncle Joe would be in London for two weeks, she could hardly keep her undergarments dry. This was her chance. She met Uncle Joe for dinner at a cosy restaurant in town but things were not going as planned. She felt Joe still thought of her as a child. He asked how school was, and if she had made any friends. She wanted to talk about grown up things. Sex things. What a disappointment. She had worn new underwear and oiled her whole body, even between her toes. Not to mention the perfume she had strategically sprayed. Joe looked at Marianne and he could not help thinking that she had grown into such a sexy woman. His body reacted to her, he was uncomfortable. This was his friend’s daughter.
Joe and his boys’ club, which included Baba Marianne, had been on many adventures together including Friday trips out of town. They had bought a ranch in the middle of nowhere, and this is where the boys could let off steam. Steam being code for debauchery. They had a taste for young girls, over eighteen. That was one of the rules. As if that was something for these old geezers to be proud of. The other most important rule was never to touch each other’s daughters. I guess it was easy for them to mess with other faceless men’s daughters. Joe had noticed Marianne on her sixteenth birthday. She blossomed early. She had these round full breasts that made him weak at his knees. He had spent many an insomniac nights thinking what ifs. But the number one rule had held him off for so long. Besides, winning her over would be work, the other girls they carried to their weekend rendezvous were baited with money, and it was transactional. Why would Marianne want him? Marianne decided the dinner was a flop and as Joe walked her to her flat on that warm summer London night, she decided to move on. When they reached her door, she gave him a hug like she always did. This time he held on a little tighter, a little longer. Joe knew if he did not let go now, he would not be able to stop himself. It was as if his hands locked. She was so soft. She smelled so good, and she did not try to get away. She looked up at him, and he started kissing her. It started soft and then they were in a frenzy. She opened the door quickly and they literally fell in.
People do not just meet and start rolling on the floor, my mother Mary always used to say. It takes a series of things to lead to the romp as evident here. The next day in the morning, Joe struggled to get up. He had not had this much activity, well any activity since his first heart attack three months ago. He had not even told the boys’ club about it. He was ashamed for some reason. Last night was worth it, he thought to himself. Marianne made him feel like a man again. She wanted him for him. Not for his money, not for his connections. Just him. Joe Mkubwa. That was worth dying over, he mused. He was in town for medical attention. He had told everyone it was for business. He had to get up if he wanted to make it to the doctors office. Marianne felt she was in a fairy tale. She could not believe her dreams had come true. She went to prepare breakfast for Uncle Joe. Wait, should she still call him uncle? That was weird. She was his woman now, she had proven to him that she was a grown woman.
She had wanted to go again, but Uncle… Joe. Joe looked tired. Must be jet lag, she thought. After breakfast he should be good to go again, she hoped. Joe walked into her small kitchen fully dressed. She was a bit surprised. “I have a business meeting my darling, I can’t be late. Let us have dinner tomorrow. I will pick you up”, he said as he gave her a kiss on her forehead and walked out. No room for negotiation. He just made an announcement and was out. The next evening, he picked her up as promised and they ended up at her flat. This time Joe’s body did not respond as quickly as it had done before. They spent some time trying to jump start things. It shocked Joe that Marianne was patient with him. He loved her so much, but she was his friend’s child. He needed to stop this madness or Baba Marianne would surely cut off his head. Over the next week Joe and Marianne spent a lot of time together. Marianne googled erectile dysfunction. At Joe’s age, that must be his problem. She did not dare talk to him about it. She did not want to embarrass him further.
On his last day in England, he brought her pink roses. “How did you know I loved pink roses”? She was genuinely impressed by the gesture. How could he not know? He had been to all her birthdays. All her dresses and cakes had been pink. And, he was almost always with her father when he ordered her pink roses all those Fridays. “I have got to go now love, see you next week when you come to Nairobi on holiday?” Joe asked as he stood up, his taxi to the airport was already there. Marianne hugged him goodbye as she nodded. She was going to be in Nairobi for three weeks and had a grand time planned for them while there. All the secrecy made it more exciting. They met three days after she landed in the country. Marianne could hardly wait to see him. She had done a bit of research the past week and bought some blue pills which she had planned to discreetly slip into his drink to help him with his issue. She figured if he thought his body was working on its own, then maybe along the way it might just start doing so without assistance.
Joe on the other hand, had also had a talk with his doctor who recommended viagra. With his heart medication, he needed to take them strictly as directed by his physician. He could not wait to see Marianne and hold her in his arms and make love to her like he knew she deserved. The anticipated meeting was at Joe’s office. His playboy years had prepared him well. His office had a cosy self contained extra room that his friends nicknamed ‘The Slaughter House’. It was tastefully furnished and sound proof. Marianne would be there at 5pm. He made sure to let his secretary go home early that day. He could not risk anyone recognizing Marianne, or it would be off with his head. He took one look at the room to make sure everything was in place. He hid his bottle of Viagra, he had taken his one pill two hours earlier. He just wanted to go straight for the kill when Marianne got there. Today he was going to prove to her that he was still a stud. Marianne kept time, she walked into the office in a black trench coat and nothing else. Joe’s heart literally skipped a beat. The pill was working too. Marianne sat on the couch revealing her endless shimmering legs. Joe literally had to wipe saliva from his chin. He poured their drinks and went to join her on the couch. Marianne wanted some ice, so he stood up to get some from the small refrigerator.
This was her chance to put the crushed blue pill into his drink. Actually she had crushed two. She was feeling very feisty that evening. She handed him his drink when he came back and watched him lustfully as he knocked back the drink in one gulp. He pulled her close, his hand went up her leg as he kissed her. This was heaven he thought. Suddenly he was sweating, his heart beating fast. His member was as he had never felt it before. He lay Maryanne on the couch and climbed on top of her with urgency. He felt like he would just burst. He opened his eyes to look at her and she looked just like an angel. He unzipped his pants and entered paradise.
Marianne woke up in her bed, head pounding and her eyes almost swollen shut. She had cried almost all night. Joe had betrayed her, now he was dead. She could still see his face when Mama Marianne walked in on them. “You can’t have me and my daughter!” she hissed. Joe stood up quickly, as if from a bad dream and started moving towards Mama Marianne. Suddenly he stopped and clutched his arm and fell to the floor. Marianne stood up wanting to help him. “Leave him!”, her mother commanded. Her words were so cold. She picked Marianne’s lipstick stained glass from the floor near the couch. “Let’s go”, she ordered her daughter. Marianne hesitated as Joe pleaded for help. “Now!”, Mama Marianne screeched. They went home in silence.
There was a soft knock on her door. “Marianne”?It was her father. He peeked in and came to sit on the edge of her bed, “I have some bad news dear, Uncle Joe died of a heart attack”.