“Asha, I am doing laundry and cleaning up at Brian’s”, said Susan as she explained why she wouldn’t show up for one of their friend’s last funeral prayer.
Ever since Susan started seeing Brian, just weeks into the relationship, she took over house management duties at Brian’s bedsitter apartment in Juba na Bari. Doing laundry, cleaning up, shopping and cooking some meals are now synonymous with Susan’s presence at Brian’s house on weekends. She was raised with the knowledge that these are duties of a woman to a man she loves. That it is the way to prove that she is marriage material, one who cares and is prepared to be a homemaker.
Unbeknown to her, during the weekdays, Sarah is another who shows up at Brian’s as a date. Sarah spends at least two nights during weekdays but does not do anything related to house chores. In fact, when Sarah visits, Brian ensures food is delivered by his most trusted rider from Sarah’s favourite restaurants. Sarah looks polished compared to Susan and seems to come from a bourgeois background. She is well travelled. She arrives at Brian’s in her personal Toyota Harrier while Susan is almost always dropped off by a boda boda if Brian does not pick her up. She can afford a car but fears that owning one will make her less attractive to Brian.
You must be wondering where I am heading with this. Stay with me. For this is how many young men in Sub Saharan Africa benefit from unpaid labour offered in the name of love and commitment by young women who are socialised to do this in their upbringing. Most of these young men were raised in households where these duties are done by females. In these same households, the definition of wife material befits Susan, not Sarah. Yet Brian though grew up in these households, he has also as a working adult travelled the world and seen women in other places like Netherlands behave as Sarah. He admires them but is also stuck with what was hammered into his head from childhood. That a good woman must do his laundry, prepare his meals and so on.
Brian likes Susan’s ability to make his place homely in ways no hired house manager can. That he even doesn’t have to pay her for it, makes him want to keep her. No wonder, when Susan is upset and declines to show up over the weekends, Brian begs her until she shows up. Not because he really loves her and is decided about settling with her, but precisely because she provides free yet good labour that he needs for his apartment to be habitable to his taste. Poor Susan, she offers free labour in love. She truly loves him but was raised with the notion that she has to prove it through such labour.
Meanwhile, Brian enjoys Sarah’s presence. They talk about travel, work place politics, projects and current affairs. Of course there is time for that and she has no exhaustion that prevents her from indulging in conversations. Susan is often too tired to talk much. Every weekend, in addition to house chores, she affords Brian unreserved intimate access to her body. That’s the much Brian knows about her. He hardly discusses with her how work and her personal development is progressing. But he does with Sarah. Does Susan offer free Labour in love? I think yes. Will Brian marry her as she hopes?, I highly doubt. May the Susans of Juba na Bari wake up. It is 21st century and there must be an end to socialisation of acceptance of exploitation of labour in the name of love. With more Sarahs, we can see a clearer path to ending this exploitation and entitlement of young men. Susan’s is not a labour of love.
Koiti Emmily 